Page 10 of Say Something
- 4 -
I swear I could feel his presence before he spoke a single word. My skin prickled with awareness, hairs stood on end...my blood came alive. My entire being was humming with an energy only Danny could generate. I hadn’t heard his voice—seen his face—in three years, yet the connection was still there as if it were yesterday. We’d been invisibly tethered to one another since we were sixteen years old.
Frozen in place, I was unsure of what to do. I wasn’t prepared for this…wasn’t prepared to fully consider us being in the same town again, let alone the same room—the same diner—that held so many of our young memories. They were good, innocent memories, before adult stuff got the best of us.
Well, I couldn’t exactly run away from him. Not only would that have been childish, but it was also impossible since he’d moved into my peripheral and was now blocking my escape route from the booth. It was either crash through the window, or him. Neither was an appealing option.
My wide eyes were focused on my mother, the straw from my glass of iced tea still between my puckered lips.
Mom smiled at me reassuringly and stood up. “It’s good to see you, Danny,” she said, pulling him in for a hug. My parents had always loved Danny, and I’d never begrudge them that. He’d been such a big part of our lives—our family—for so long. “I’m just going to go pay our check,” she said.
“It’s good to see you, too, Olivia,” Danny replied, watching my mom as she walked off, leaving us together at the booth. Alone.
Alone together for the first time since those four harsh words were uttered between us, shattering the tense silence of our marital home, and the front door of our townhome had slammed shut with a damning finality.
I want a divorce.
I carefully placed my glass on the table and stared down at my hands that were now resting in my lap.How did they even get there that fast?I absently wondered. This moment was so incredibly surreal.
Danny sighed before taking my mother’s vacated seat.
“You’re not even going to talk to me?” he asked, and the pain in his voice cut right into me, leaving an open, bleeding wound behind.
I closed my eyes, blinking back the tears that threatened to flow.I’m not ready for this, I thought to myself.
“Or look at me? Jesus, Jessie, I thought we meant more to each other than that. At least we used to. Do you hate me that much?”
My chin jolted up, and I locked eyes with him for the first time in years. The man of my dreams, who I’d loved—love—with all my soul. “I don’t hate you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He smiled. It was sad, a fraction of what I would have considered a true Danny smile, but it was still a smile. As his whiskey-colored eyes scanned my face, mine did the same to his. He still had that ever-present five o’clock shadow on his strong, straight jaw, only it was a bit scruffier now. His messy, straight-out-of-bed dark hair was longer now, too. He was tan, probably from spending so much time on the field, coaching his team. Definitely still gorgeous. My eyes connected with his again, and our gazes locked. I couldn’t look away, and, as it appeared, neither could he.
“You look different,” he said finally.
Under normal circumstances, I might have been offended by such a statement, but our circumstances were anything but normal. This wasDanny. I knew he hadn’t meant for it to be offensive. Besides, I did look different. Hell, the last year or so of our marriage I’d completely shut down. I hadn’t cared about anything, least of all my appearance. He was probably surprised to see me with clean hair, a touch of makeup, polished nails, and pants that didn’t have an elastic or drawstring waistband.
“So do you,” I replied. He was still as handsome as I remembered, but he looked tired, a lot less like the carefree boy I’d fallen in love with, and the easygoing man I’d been married to. He looked…weathered.
“I’m tired,” he said, punctuating the statement with a perfectly timed yawn. “When I’m not working with the team, I’m working on the house. Seems my days are never-ending.”
“Your uncle’s old place?” I hedged, remembering Melissa saying something about it yesterday.
His face lightened up at my words. “Talking about me, Jessie?”
“Melissa has a big mouth,” I grumbled. “And don’t call me that,” I added as an afterthought.
The light in his eyes went out, and I instantly felt bad. Jessie was a childhood nickname I couldn’t stand. He was the only person I ever let get away with it, mostly because he’d always follow it up with naughty things. But it was instinctual to tell whomever said the nickname not to use it; I hadn’t meant to upset him.
Those days had long since passed anyway, and we were both better off remembering that.
An awkward and uncomfortable silence rolled over the table—over the restaurant—and I glanced over my shoulder at my mom. She was sitting on a stool at the counter, quietly chatting with one of the waitresses. She’d obviously paid our tab and was now giving us what? Time alone to talk? I couldn’t believe she would do that to me. I was sure she meant well, but after a lot of therapy, I knew I needed to build up to something like this, not dive right in.
“I should probably go,” I said, looking back at Danny and sliding across the red vinyl bench seat. As I stood up, Danny did the same.
Then we were standing there, just inches from one another. I didn’t know what to say…what to do…I felt like the entire diner was looking at us. They probably were. Oak River’s golden couple, together again. But we weren’t together. Not in the sense the townspeople were probably hoping for.
“Can I see you again?” he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. It was barely a touch, but it was intimate. It burned through my blood.
“I don’t—”
