Page 82 of Rainstorm

“Chase can go take a hike as far as I’m concerned. My desire to talk to him has disappeared as if by magic.”

“Or as if by divorce.”

Everything has vanished because of the divorce, even though it still hurts.

???

It’s late and I’m still on the couch that has become my bed, unable to sleep, turning over and over again the same thread of thoughts.

It’s all such a mess. One that I never imagined I’d end up in, but then who prepares themselves for a situation like this? And what makes it worse is that Chase is not helping to close the door on all this with his confusing and contradictory behavior.

Because even though he was the one who put the divorce papers on the table—literally—he’s also the one who won’t let go of me, won’t let me be free, even though that’s what he said he wanted. Instead he spends half his time fluttering around me, making the air dense, making it impossible for me to breathe freely, unable to open my wings and fly away from this chaos. He’s causing a black hole that’s pulling me into the depths of his darkness.

I crave having my feet planted firmly on the ground, my entire being loves stability, but the storm he’s creating is taking all that from me, taking the safe haven I’ve found refuge in, drawing me into him and his personal turmoil.

Then holy crap, is my imagination messing with me, or is there someone else in the apartment?

I’m sure it’s not Ariel, that girl sleeps like a log. She puts her head on the pillow and shows no signs of life until the next morning.

I cling to my blanket with both hands, as if that offers any kind of defense against whoever has decided to invade our space.

Breathless, I hear some heavy steps approaching.

I feel the couch sink beside me as a shadow hovers over me.

I’m about to scream, when I hear a voice I know very well whispering.

“It’s me.”

Chase.

God, what is he doing here and at this time?

“How... you...?” I murmur in disbelief.

“It’s easy enough to climb the wall to get in through the window,” he casually explains, as if breaking in like a thief in the night was the most normal thing in the world.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask, finally catching my breath.

“I really need to talk to you, and you’ve been avoiding me,” he responds, his voice like a silk wrap, caressing me softly, as the small amount of light coming through the window creates a halo effect around him, making him look more intense, more dangerous.

Especially for my heart.

“Come home with me so we can talk properly?” he asks in such a soft pleading manner. He’s looking down at me with that face that I’m incapable of saying no to.

So I nod and he helps me up from my makeshift bed and looks for a sweatshirt and some shoes for me to put on. Then we walk together in silence—I think he’s taking his time so he can plan exactly what he wants to say now that he’s finally got me to himself, while I have nothing to say to him.

At least not yet.

When we cross the threshold, a strange feeling hits me as I enter the house which I considered mine for the last however many years. It’s so intense that I start to feel dizzy, as a knot forms in my throat and expands to swallow me whole.

Because it hits me that I’m just visiting the place that used to be my beloved home, and it overwhelms me.

“White wine?” Chase asks from the kitchen, while I’m standing there frozen in the foyer, wondering how I can view all the possessions here as if I’m a complete stranger.

How?

There’s what used to be my living room, with the sofa I searched for almost two months to get, our wedding picture is still there on the coffee table, sitting beside some books we bought in Scotland. There’s the dining table that I finished that afternoon before Chase gave me those damn papers. I know that if I go farther, I will find everything just as I left it that day. My clothes still hanging in the closet, my shoes, the soap in the shower, my unfinished projects, and even the collection of mugs that we used to buy in the cities we visited on our crazy trips. Our trips when we were crazy in love.

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