Page 126 of A Chance for Us
“Then there’s nothing I can say other than this, if you have even a sliver of doubt that you misunderstood her motivation, then you owe it to yourself to call her and find out. Let her tell you, in no uncertain terms, that it’s over.”
Pretty sure her stance was clear the second she asked a lawyer to draw up the paperwork. That’s the part that no one seems to understand.
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
Jack chuckles. “I swear you are the most stubborn group of people I’ve ever met.”
“Maybe so, but I’d rather be that than a fool.”
“I think you’re both, but . . . no matter what, you’re still my brother.”
I walk over, and we clasp hands. “Always.”
“Sign it before you go, Oliver. Have one less thing on your mind before you start your treatment. Okay?”
He’s right. I need a clear mind and to be wholly focused on my fight and getting healthy.
“I will.”
When Jack leaves, I grab the envelope and sink onto the couch. It’s been four days since I stormed out of her house, and I’m in absolute misery.
I miss her voice. I want to ask her about her day and tell her the funny stories about the guest requests we got for next week. I want to tell her how fucking terrified I am about starting chemo, and how, despite knowing we caught it early and my prognosis is good, I’m worried treatment won’t actually work.
It’s her I want by my side, not my sister.
I pull out the papers, reading over the legal jargon that will officially end this if the judge grants it.
It lays out all the ways the marriage was formed under false pretenses, and I want to laugh.
It was a lie. All of it. The memories of us that I cherished are fabrications and worthless.
I get to the last page, seeing her signature already there, and then I hover over the signature line, hating that I will be ending what never should’ve been started.
I can’t do it. I can’t sign it. Not now.
I grab the envelope to put the paperwork back in, only to find a folded paper jammed in the bottom.
I pull it free and open it, finding a handwritten list. A list that changes everything.
A list that tells me I really am a fool, and I hurt the woman I love.
Thirty-Three
MAREN
Today sucked.
Every day sucks if I’m being totally honest.
But today was especially sucky. The mission went sideways, causing every contingency plan I had to fall to shit. I’m off my game, and it almost cost someone their life.
After a very long conversation with the two owners, I’m taking the rest of the week off to clear my head.
Only, being home—alone—isn’t really helping. Everything reminds me of Oliver.
I’m going to burn the house down and move. It’s the only option.
Since my flair for the dramatics is in high gear, I decide to do only mundane things, so I grab the phone, hover over his name for the millionth time, and then fail to actually call him.
