Page 127 of A Chance for Us
No, I am following my ex-fiancé’s advice and giving it time.
Who cares that it’s been four days of absolute hell? What does time matter when your heart feels as though it’s been ripped from your chest? Wounds heal, scars fade, and you learn to move on.
I just need that part to kick in.
I throw my clothes into the dryer, go to slam the door, and close the door on my freaking fingers.
“Damn it!” I scream, clutching my hand as I bounce around. “Great. This is just what I needed. Thank you universe!”
After I grab the ice and wrap it around my possibly broken finger, I sit out on the back deck.
“If I get stung by a bee, I’m seriously going to lose it.” I speak directly to nature, hoping it heeds my threat and stays far away from me.
I rest in the swing, letting the rustling of leaves and the faint sounds of the ocean a few blocks away be my companion.
The throbbing in my hand keeps me from falling asleep, but it does give me a reprieve from the ache in my heart.
“Maren?”
I hear Oliver’s voice, but I know that’s not possible. I wonder if pain can make you hallucinate.
“Maren, are you here?” I hear him again. I sit up so quickly that I fall off the swing.
“Ouch!” I complain, rubbing my tailbone. That freaking hurt too.
There’s a banging on the door.
Hallucinations don’t knock, do they?
Probably not, so it seems he’s here. I push to my feet and limp to the door while I cradle my hand and the ice pack.
When I open it and see him, I can’t breathe. He looks better than I remember. His dark hair is falling slightly over his eye, and the stubble on his chin is now a full beard. He looks worn, miserable, and broken, which is probably what I look like.
He looks at my hand. “What happened?”
“I closed it in the dryer door and then I fell off the swing when I heard your voice. If you’re here to tell me how much you don’t love me, could you just finish me off?”
Oliver shakes his head. “I’m not here for that.”
“Here to tell me how much of a liar I am?”
“I deserve that.”
Yeah, he does. “Why are you here?”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of green notebook paper similar to the kind I use when I’m writing my lists.
“I came to go over this with you, but I’m not as good at this as you are.” He steps closer. “I could use some help.”
Words escape me so I just nod.
“Reasons not to sign the annulment,” he reads. “Pro: I love her. I want to kiss her. I want to give her my heart and soul. I don’t want an annulment. I want to spend my life with her. I need her.”
Tears fill my eyes as he glances at me and then keeps reading.
“Con: Blank.”
My lip trembles.
