Page 46 of Run Game
“How much is it going to cost me?” Dalton says in greeting.
“What?” I reply, caught off guard.
“Whatever…orwhoeveryou hit with my car.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re such an asshole. I didn’t crash,” I say with a laugh. “But guess what!”
“What, baby?” he replies.
I bounce in my seat, too excited to sit still as I wait at a red light. “Bella asked me to join her next tour as a backup dancer!”
“What?” he chokes. “That’s fucking amazing! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you.” I shake my head, still in disbelief. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Dalton. Seriously. Thank you.”
“No way, babe. You did this all by yourself. I was just lucky enough to have a front row seat to your comeback.”
This man.He’s given me so much and he doesn’t even realize it. Maybe I did do some of this on my own, but I would’ve never had the courage to break out of the life that was holding me down if it weren’t for him throwing me over his shoulder in Vegas. Although I thought it was the worst possible situation when we were told we’d need to stay married for longer than we expected, I’m truly thankful that things worked out the way they did. With Dalton behind me, I’ve had the courage to take the life I’ve always wanted.
“Hurry home, Wifey. We’ll order from Donatello’s and get naked so I can congratulate you properly.”
“Okay, be right there,” I say, still high on my good news. “I love you!” I freeze, not knowing where that just came from. I vowed I’d never say those words to a man again. But they just came out before I could stop them. “I…uhh,” I stutter, not sure how to recover.
“I love you, too,” he says. “Drive safe, baby.”
THIRTY-ONE
DALTON
I walk in the door,exhausted from a hard workout. The only thing on my mind is finding Dia and wrapping her in my arms while we lounge on the couch together. I take off my shoes, kicking them out of the way, and set my keys on the table in the entryway. The house is uncharacteristically quiet for this time of day. Usually, she’s either dancing around with the music blasting, or I’ll hear the shower running from the primary bathroom.
“Dia?” I yell, pausing to listen for a reply.
I round the corner, checking the kitchen. It’s a little late for her to be having breakfast, but not completely uncommon for her to be sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal while she scrolls on her phone. When I see that the room is empty, I turn, walking back toward the hallway. “Wifey! You home?” I try again. I check the bedroom first, pushing the door open to find it dark and quiet. The bed is made and it looks like nobody has been here in a while.
I peek into the bathroom, already knowing that it’s empty, as well. I start to panic when I think that she may have walked tothe dance studio by herself. I know my wife is a strong, independent woman, but that doesn’t mean that I want her all alone walking the busy streets of Boston. I keep telling her to take my car, but she puts up a pretty good fight every time I offer.
I get more and more anxious with every empty room I encounter. Thinking maybe I missed something, I return to the living room, but she’s still nowhere in sight. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a piece of paper on the sofa table. I guess she did leave without telling me her plans for the day, but at least there’s a note. A wave of relief washes over me as I walk over to it, picking it up and reading it.
My heart sinks in my chest as I clutch the paper in my hand. I fall to my knees, gripping my hair and letting out an agonizing cry as the signed divorce papers flutter to the floor beside me.
She’s gone.
I wakeup in a cold sweat, my pulse pounding like a drum between my ears. I reach over to Dia’s side of the bed, finding it empty and cold. I immediately sit up, panic taking over every one of my senses as I quickly move from the bed and run down the hall. Unlike in the nightmare I just had, I find my wife sitting on the couch, phone in hand, like everything is right in the world.
And it is. For now.
Today marks six weeks since we legally moved in together. We are officially allowed to file for a divorce. I know there’s no way in hell that it’ll be me making that move, because it’s the furthest thing from what I want. The time Dia and I have spent together just solidified that I want to be married to her for the rest of my life.
It’s been almost a week since her little slip up on thephone. I know she didn’t mean to say she loved me right then, but I don’t believe for a second that she didn’t mean the words when she said them. And I definitely meant them when I said them back. It felt like a million pounds had lifted off my chest when I finally got to let them out. The fact that she said them first made me feel like the luckiest man to ever walk this planet. But I know that scared her. That’s why I haven’t said them again or even addressed the situation. When she wants to talk about it, she will.
I’ve been counting down the days until today. Not because I wanted it to come, but because I was dreading it. I’ve had nightmares almost every night this week about her leaving me, and I wake up every time to her still here. But what happens now that she’s free to go?
“Morning, baby. You’re up early today,” I say, sitting down next to her and pressing my lips to her warm cheek. She smiles in response, setting her phone down so she can turn and kiss me properly. I take it in, enjoying the moment as she opens her mouth, allowing me to push my tongue inside. I swallow her desperate moans as she grips onto my t-shirt to keep me close. I love when she’s like this. It’s these moments where I can feel what she feels, even if she has trouble saying it out loud sometimes. I feel my body relax a little, because these certainly don’t seem like the actions of a woman who has her running shoes laced up and is headed out the door. As a matter of fact, she seems even more clingy this morning than she normally is.
Zero complaints out of me for that.
“Morning,” she says, pulling away. But it doesn’t feel right not having some type of physical connection to her,so I grab her by the hips and pull her so she’s straddling my lap. I’m not trying to make things sexual. I just want her as close as possible right now. I know that we’ll eventually need to talk about what’s going to happen going forward, but I’m trying to process what this could mean for us.
