Page 85 of Still The One

‘Only at night, otherwise Eve’s got me on a regular ice/heat routine and ibuprofen.’

‘Good, good.’

After what feels like an eternity, the doctor brings a stethoscope to his ears and directs me to take deep breaths as he listens to my chest from both the front and back.

Finally, he finishes with the exam and carefully repositions my arm back into its sling, securing it tightly against my chest.

‘Well,’ he says, glancing from Eve to me. ‘I’m impressed with his progress. How do you feel about going home?’

Eve’s and my gazes lock, a flurry of conflicting emotions passing between us. Uncertainty, longing, curiosity and hesitation all swirl together in an intricate dance. Our eyes are the only communication needed at that moment. Neither of us are sure how we feel about all this.

‘I do miss my bed,’ I say, but there is a small tremor in my voice. I don’t want to say the wrong thing here.

‘Are you saying he’s free to fly now?’ Eve asks.

‘I am,’ he says, watching her response.

She frowns, but catches it quickly, flashing us both a smile. ‘That’s great,’ she says. ‘You can finally get back to your friends.’

When she’s done speaking, the doctor hands me a list of doctors in the Tallahassee area that I can see once I’m back.

‘Take it easy when you get home, Foster; you’ve still got some healing to do, so no extreme sports for the time being,’ he says before exiting the room.

‘Wow,’ Eve says. ‘I expected it, but I didn’t.’

Now’s the time. If I don’t tell her now, I never will and if I put it off any longer, this ending will hurt so much more.

‘Evie, I’ve got to tell you something,’ I say, nervousness apparent in my voice.

‘Sounds serious,’ she says, sitting back in her chair.

‘Sort of. But I’m hoping that after recent revelations, it comes as good news.’

‘Uh-oh.’

‘Remember when I told you I never got over you?’

She nods.

‘Because of that, I never signed the divorce papers. And Matty found out not too long ago and did some research. We’renot divorced – in fact, we just celebrated our five-year wedding anniversary.’

She stares at me, blank-faced, suddenly pulling her phone from her back pocket and tapping at the screen frantically.

Her going straight to her phone is never good. I thought maybe she’d be excited to know we don’t have to do anything more than make our relationship work – and celebrate the anniversaries as they arrive.

She reads the screen, her shoulders dropping.

‘My God, I wondered why I’d never heard anything. Here’s why: “Howard Sweet, long-time local divorce lawyer, aged sixty-seven, died unexpectedly yet peacefully at home over the weekend” – two months after I filed for divorce. Foster, do you know what this would have done to me if Cayden and I had made it down the aisle? I’d have been humiliated. Again.’

‘In my defense, I wondered why it took so long to get the papers, but I had no idea you were getting married. All I knew was that I didn’t want to lose you officially, so I ran the papers through my shredder thinking that would stop it. I had no idea the guy was going to die and never actually file.’

‘You’ve known this the entire time you’ve been here, and you’re just telling me now?’

I nod, shame likely etched across my face like a shadow.

‘I wanted to tell you,’ I say, my voice thick with emotion, ‘to lay all my cards on the table and just get it out there. But between the pain, meds and seeing you again, then all the interruptions we were dealing with – I couldn’t find the time or the courage.’ A weighty silence hangs in the air between us.

‘Every day I’m with you, I’m reminded of how good we were together,’ I continue. ‘And I knew that telling you the truth would ruin that – so I wanted to see if anything was even still there for you before I did, and I didn’t know that until recently.’ My shoulders slump with shame.

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