Page 106 of Rainstorm

I replied succinctly, no and no. But the stubborn devil bought the delicious temptations anyway.

The bastard knows me well.

I’ve really been looking forward to this afternoon, to having a good time at the game, and I refuse to let him spoil it, so I do a great job of ignoring him and acting like I’m having the best time, shouting, cheering and clapping. So great in fact that I deserve a fucking Oscar.

I refuse to look at him again, but my entire being is aware of his presence. Taking notes of every movement. Every single breath I draw threatens to ignite that fire between us, to let the tension explode.

Thank heaven the game ends relatively quickly. I feel drained, like I was down there playing on the diamond too, like a gladiator after fighting in the Coliseum, sweating blood and tears.

We exit the stadium together in silence and start walking back home.

“You want to grab a bite to eat?” he asks, breaking the silence. “We can go to the wings place you love.”

Enough. No sense in prolonging this agony any longer.

“Listen, Chase. I know what you’re doing.” I keep my voice low, but firm. “But you’re wasting your time. You can force me to spend time with you, even listen to you, but there’s no point. I might still love you, but I lost faith in you weeks ago. The way you acted, the way you treated me, killed the trust I’d placed in you.”

“Rose…” he pleads. “I was wrong, I made a terrible mistake, I handled things badly, but I can explain. I need you to know…”

“No, Chase,” I cut him off. “You had your chance weeks ago. The time for talking is over. We are over.”

There you go, after weeks of denial, of anger, acceptance has arrived.

“You let me go first, so now I’m setting you free, Chase. I’m giving you what you asked for. Freedom. Go and live your life in the way you please. I’m still mourning our marriage, but I will survive, and I want to move on without the weight of hate on my shoulders. Just let me go.”

Every word comes from my soul.

He’s not even touching me but I feel the chains breaking off as I walk away from him.

I feel light, I feel free.

I feel like me.

I feel broken, but I can feel the healing process beginning to fill the blank spaces.

Not because he loves me. But because I love myself.

???

It’s Monday again, and the day is dragging by so slowly that I swear I hear the seconds passing as I wait for news.

Even Oliver has been in my office looking for an excuse to see what’s going on, and the devil in me said “I’m so glad you’re here, boss, then you can take the important call I’m waiting for.”

After giving me the stink eye, he marches off to his den, dragging his feet in those Sperry shoes he loves to wear.

There’s not enough coffee in the whole world to cheer up this gray day.

Not even the crazy amount of chocolate covered truffles—nor the beautiful watercolor card attached to them and the sweet words on it—that the delivery boy brought this morning can make this day any sweeter.

Finally, at four thirty in the afternoon, my phone chimes.

Sawyer calling, the screen announces.

Here we go.

“Hey, Rose,” he says in a cheerful voice. “I have some great news, the buyer is offering full price, plus a ten grand bonus to close the deal in the next thirty days. So it’s done.”

“Done.” I repeat that simple word like a dummy. So it’s done.

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