Page 101 of When I Had You

She swallows and looks ahead through the windshield. “I know you are.” Her eyes find me in the dark of the back seat, and she says, “My trust was broken, but I rose from that and created my own life. On my terms. I should thank you, Cash. You’re the one who opened my eyes. I’m not just an actress. I’m a business, an entity, an owner of Westcott Racing. I filled the seat I had left vacant at the table all in the name of chasing the dream. I use my voice and not only give my opinions but also have vote and veto power.”

I thought I was broken before. Now I’m shattered.

What have I done?

“You’ve got it all wrong, babe.” I rest my elbow on the door and rub the side of my face. “That stuff doesn’t matter.” Reaching across the leather seat divide, I cover her hand with mine just as the car pulls to the curb. I glance out the window, knowing this is where we end. With nothing left to lose, I say. “Just remember, I loved you more than anything.”

I pop the door open, but she pulls my arm to a stop. When I turn back, she asks, “What did it feel like?”

Holding her gaze, I study her face, memorizing the damage that only makes her more beautiful, the way life has created flaws that she’ll never appreciate, and I’ll never forget. “When I had you, I had everything.”

Her fingers fall from my jacket, her hand to the seat. I wait seconds, but nothing is going to change. I get out and shut the door behind me. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, things that needed to be said. Apologies and regrets.

The car pulls into traffic.

“Fuck.”

I scrub my hands over my face, not knowing what to do next.

Go upstairs?

No. Fuck that.

I take off running, praying to whatever saint will help me catch up to her. I’ve done something right because her car hits a red light one block ahead. I push myself harder, really needing to get back into long-distance running. My endurance sucks.

I reach the car, my hands landing hard on the window. I hear a scream from inside, but then the car takes off when the light turns green again.

Are you for fucking real right now?

Thank the heavens for heavier traffic tonight. The window rolls down as I’m running on the sidewalk parallel to the car. Sitting forward, Marina shouts, “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t say everything I needed to,” I huff, pumping my arms.

The car hits another red light. Thank God. I drop my hands to my knees, gasping for air.

She asks, “What more is there to say?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for betraying your trust. I’m sorry for putting my fears of losing my career on your shoulders to carry. But most of all, I’m sorry for letting you walk out that door. That is the biggest regret I live with every day of my life. I should have fought for you.”

The car drives forward.

“Mother fuck.”

Her eyes never leave me until she’s too far to catch up to. I have no idea where she’s staying or if she has an apartment in the city now that she’s back. I could run another ten blocks and never see that car again.

She’s been given every green light in the city to get farther away from me. I should turn back, but I can’t.

Call it a second wind, but I feel the need to start running again.

I run, knowing I’ve lost her but can’t give up on us like I stupidly did before.

I run, passing cars and searching every black sedan in hopes it’s hers.

I run, my left side burning, the few nerve endings that survived the wreck ache.

I run until it makes no sense to keep going, but still do.

My feet slow as I approach a busy street. A truck passing in front of me, and I imagine if I would have caught up to her, if this night would have played out differently. Cars are streaming while I catch my breath. I have to because I refuse to lose her again. When only cars remain, I stand there staring at the other side.

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