Page 52 of Run Game
“I have to go, Carrie,” I blurt. “I have somewhere to be. But maybe we can get together soon and hang out.”
“Sure, honey. Take care of yourself,” she says.
“I will,” I reply, a smile blooming across my lips. “And thank you for calling.”
“Have a good day, Dia.”
I hang up the phone, immediately pulling up the text app.
DIA: Can we talk?
DALTON: Of course. Now? I can call you.
DIA: I was hoping we could do it in person. At the house, maybe? It’ll give us some privacy.
DALTON: How about tonight? 7 pm?
DIA: Yeah. Can you bring the divorce papers?
It takes a minute for him to respond, but as I’m pulling clothes out of my suitcase so I can shower, my phone dings again.
DALTON: OK
I head to the bathroom, with clarity and hope for my future for the first time in my life.
THIRTY-SIX
DALTON
I siton the couch in the new house, immediately standing again because I can’t stay still. I check my phone to see that it’s six-fifty. I continue pacing, practically wearing a hole in the area rug as I shuffle my feet across it. I’m anxious as fuck. My hands won’t stop shaking and I’ve gone over every possible scenario in my head since I got here an hour ago.
I look over to the coffee table, the divorce papers staring at me like a giant monster waiting to jump out and get me. When Dia asked me to bring them, my fucking heart sank to my stomach. I don’t know what I’ll do if she asks me to sign them tonight. I may as well take the still-beating organ out of my chest and hand it over to her if she leaves me, because I’ll never love anyone this way again. If it’s not her, it’s nobody.
I try to block out the negative thoughts just as I look out the window, watching the gate swing open slowly and the headlights of my Audi come into view. I take some deep breaths, trying to calm myself now that she’s here.
I walk to the door, pulling it open as she makes herway up the steps. My instinct is to reach for her. To pull her in and inhale her scent. To kiss her so thoroughly that she feels my love flowing out of me and into her. But I don’t know where she’s at, so I just step out of the way, letting her in.
“Hey,” I say. My body shivers with nervous energy. Fuck, this sucks. I feel like we’ve become strangers over the past few days.
“Hi,” she replies. I shouldn’t, but I take a little comfort in the way she looks so tired. Has she been unable to sleep through the night like me? She’s wearing makeup, but dark circles peek out from under her eyes.
“Want to go sit?” I ask, motioning toward the living room. She gives a small nod and I follow her, trying my best not to get caught while I breathe deeply, searching for any hint of her minty shampoo. She sits on the couch, so I mirror her, keeping enough space between us so that I’m not tempted to pull her into my arms. Butfuck. It’s hard being here with her and not touching her. She looks fucking beautiful in her simple gray crewneck and black leggings. Her long, black hair frames her flawless face as she looks at me, and I wish I could read her mind.
“Dalton, I?—”
“Hold on,” I blurt, cutting her off. “Before you say anything, I just have to get some things out. I might not be able to say them if I don’t do it now. Is that okay?”
She nods her head, allowing me to start. “I’m sorry, Dia. I pushed you so hard, even when you kept telling me you weren’t ready. I wanted so badly to gain your trust, not realizing that I was dismissing your feelings and wishes in the process.” I look up, seeing her beautiful brown eyes staring back at me, giving me the strength to continue. “I was selfish. But I swear it came from a goodplace. I just wanted to show you that I was here, no matter what. That you could fall with me and I would catch you every time. And if you decide you don’t want me anymore, I’ll still be here, loving you from afar until my last breath. I just want you to be happy.” I do my best to steel my expression as I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small blue box and opening it before handing it to her.
Her brows furrow in confusion as she locks her eyes on the large diamond. “I thought you sold it,” she whispers.
“I did,” I tell her. “I got halfway home that night and turned back around. It felt so wrong. That ring belongs to you. Even if you don’t wear it and it sits in your jewelry box forever, you’ll always have something to remind you of the time you were loved so fiercely by a man who would choose you a hundred times over, even knowing it would break him in the end.” I hope she doesn’t ask about the check I left on the counter that night. After I left the jeweler the second time, I stopped by the bank and had a hundred grand put on a traveler’s check so she wouldn’t know that it came from my account. I knew she needed the money to feel like she had the freedom to take care of herself here in Boston.
A single tear slips down her cheek as she sets the box on the table and picks up the divorce papers. My heart rate speeds up, and it takes everything in me not to get on my knees and beg her to stay. But I don’t want to stop her from whatever decision she’s about to make, so I fist my hands in my lap, waiting for her to speak.
But she doesn’t. She doesn’t take her eyes off of me as she holds the paper between us, tearing it down the middle. I’m frozen in place, unsure of how to react. Before I can ask her what this means, she puts me out of my misery.
“Since that very first night, you’ve only ever wanted to show me what being loved felt like. And I’ll admit that it was foreign…andscary. I was terrified that I’d never be able to give you the life thatyoudeserved. To be a wife that you could be proud of. That one day, you’d wake up and realize I wasn’t enough, and you’d leave me. And I wouldn’t know how to go back to the way I was before. I’ve had a lot of people come and go from my life. But I know I couldn’t survive loving you and losing you, Dalton.” Her tears flow freely as I reach out for her, unable to stay away any longer.
