Page 49 of Run Game
Just as I’m about to drift off, my phone dings on the bedside table, lighting up the room. I pick it up, seeing a notification from the security camera system I had installed in the new house. I pull up the app, seeing Dia as she places her finger on the lock to the front door and pushes it open. The camera switches to the one in the entryway, triggered by her movement. I should stop watching. I should be thankful she has somewhere safe to stay and give her some privacy. But my eyes stay glued to the screen as she walks around the house. And when she heads toward the basement, that she didn’t get a chance to see earlier, I know there’s nothing that could drag me away.
THIRTY-THREE
DIA
I drovearound for hours trying to make sense of things. I half expected to be pulled over and arrested for driving a stolen car. Or at the very least, I figured he’d call or text, telling me to bring it back. But, as always, Dalton knew what I needed. There’s way too much going on in my head to talk about any of it right now.
That’s why, instead of going to Mads’ house, I find myself punching1123into the keypad next to the same gate I drove out of earlier today. I’m relieved when I see that everything has been locked up and all the lights are off, indicating that Dalton has probably left. I walk up to the door, pressing my finger to the lock, waiting for it to blink green before I turn the doorknob and let myself in. The contents of my bag have been picked up from the floor and set carefully on the table in the entryway. I walk over slowly, going through it, noticing immediately that there’s one thing missing.
I had the divorce papers drawn up the day after our six-week period was up. I reminded myself that this was the plan all along. I had a good job now, dancing for Bella.I wouldn’t have to worry about mooching off of Dalton anymore. I could start my new life in Boston, standing on my own two feet and relying on myself like I have since I was a kid. That’s what I wanted.
But with every hour that passed, and me still not giving Dalton the papers, things just got more confusing in my mind. I promised myself every morning when I woke up that I’d do it, but we’d fall into our normal daily routine, and I just couldn’t. I didn’t want to let it go. And that, right there, scares the shit out of me.
I’ve spent my whole life relying on the wrong people for my own happiness. My parents would reel me in, acting like they loved and cared for me, just to let me down again. It was the same way with Josh. As long as I was giving him what he wanted, it was good. But as soon as I voiced my hope for our future, he threw me away like I wasn’t worth wasting his life on. By the time Dalton found me, I was damaged beyond repair. I was afraid that the moment I let him in, even a little bit, he’d leave. But he didn’t. He just kept trying to get me to see that I could trust him.
He's shown me so many times over that he isn’t like them. But here I am, still struggling to believe that I can have it all. That I can have a life with someone who loves me while keeping my strength and independence. I know I have to figure this out, because being stuck in limbo like this is hurting us both. I just need some time to work through it.
I take another walk around the house, this time appreciating the way it fits every single part of the dream I had for my future home. I can see myself enjoying a girls’ night in with Mads and Bella in the kitchen, drinking wine and laughing obnoxiously until our guys had to drag us tobed. I let myself imagine Dalton pulling me in to dance while we cook breakfast, looking at me in that adoring way he always does. I walk up the stairs, swinging open the bedroom door, thinking of the way he’d press me against the mattress as he made love to me. Every part of this hurts. But it’s not until I make my way down to the basement that I get overwhelmed with emotion.
I flip on the light switch, illuminating a completely finished dance studio. The light-colored maple flooring under my feet shines brightly as I step further into the room. Mirrors stretch along the length of the front and back walls, with a barre installed the entire way across. In the front corner, there’s a high-tech stereo system, with speakers mounted around the room. And in the back, there’s a purple velvet couch with a large coffee table. In the center of it lays a white box with a big silver bow decorating the top. I can’t stop myself from walking over and plucking the small envelope from it. Pulling out the card, tears fill my eyes as I recognize his handwriting.
Dia,
The last eight weeks have been more than I could’ve ever imagined. I’ve won a Heisman trophy and a Super Bowl ring, but my greatest accomplishment in life is you. Thank you for making all my dreams come true. Hopefully, I can do the same for you. Starting with this.
I love you.
Your husband,
Dalton
Tears blur my vision as I pull the lid from the box, finding several pairs of brand-new dance shoes, all in my size. I sit on the couch, trying to keep myself from falling apart as I remove my sneakers and pull on the pink canvas ballet shoes. I look down, realizing that it’s been a long time since I was able to own a new pair like this. The padding in the bottom feels like a cloud on the soles of my feet compared to the old, worn-out pair that I have.
I stand, walking over to the stereo system, pairing it to my phone. I’ve never felt more at home than I do in this studio, and if I never get a chance to come here again, I want to know what it’s like to have danced in a place that was made just for me. I don’t even look at the song I’m choosing. I just hitShuffleand set my phone down, moving to the center of the room.
Unstable by Justin Bieber and The Kid LAROI comes from the speakers as I move, closing my eyes and letting myself go wherever the music takes me. The melody flows through me, carrying me around the floor effortlessly. I spin and jump, covering the entirety of the room with my steps. I imagine Dalton watching in the mirror as he looks on from the couch, mesmerized by me.
I dance for him. Trying my hardest to apologize for all the ways I’ve hurt him in the only way I know how. And when the lyrics hit too close to home, making me feel too much, I fall to my knees. I let the tears I’ve been fighting flow freely as every emotion I’ve been avoiding crashes into me. I cry for what seems like hours, until I can barely breathe, and my eyes are almost swollen shut. I scream into the empty room and plead for forgiveness, even though I know nobody can hear me. I curse my parents out loud for turning me into a scared, weak woman who can’t accept love from a man who has done everything hecan to prove that he’s not going anywhere. And I cry for the little girl who deserved better than the life she was given.
Then, I make a promise to myself to do some serious soul searching. To find a way to let go of my past for good and take the future I deserve.
THIRTY-FOUR
DALTON
I wakeup alone in my bed, my head pounding violently. I’m hungover as fuck and probably in need of about two gallons of water. But after Mads stopped by to get Dia’s clothes yesterday, I had to get shitfaced. I honestly don’t think I can get through this any other way. At least not right now.
I miss my wife. This apartment feels like a prison without her here. I wander around like I’m lost, going from room to room, trying to feel her. To smell her. Anything to remind me that she was real, and that she was mine. The first night I stayed here without her, I fell asleep on the living room floor, wrapped in her favorite cashmere blanket. I woke up stiff and aching, still clinging to the soft fabric as if she were inside it. But she wasn’t. She was gone, and I was alone. I almost caved and called her so many times, but I’m trying to honor the promise we made. She used her safe word, and I need to give her time.
It’s been three days since she took off in my car, leaving me to consider that her future may not include me. Mads drove it here, planning to leave it and have Blaze pick herup, but I told her to take the Audi back to Dia for now. Even if it’s not for long, she’s still my wife and I don’t want her walking around Boston when she doesn’t have to.
I couldn’t hold back from asking how she’s doing, now that she’s staying with Mads and Blaze. I know she needs time, but I’d give anything to hold her hand through this. Part of me hoped that Mads would tell me Dia was doing okay, but the other part of me was hoping she’s been as miserable as I have. She told me she hasn’t talked much, but that her usual M.O. is to shut down while she processes her feelings. Mads promised me that she’d be there when Dia was ready to talk or be comforted. If it can’t be me with her, her best friend is the only other person I’d trust to make sure she isn’t going through this alone.
It killed me to watch her break down in the dance studio the other night. The security cameras don’t have sound, but the image of her in so much pain had me up and out of bed, pacing the floors in Tanner’s guest suite, fighting the overwhelming urge to go to her. But I know my wife. And I know that she needs to do this without me. When she figures it out and is ready to talk, I’ll be waiting. I just hope the answers she finds don’t mean the end for us.
My phone rings from next to me on the bed, the sound making the pounding in my head even worse. My instinct is to ignore it, but what if it’s Dia? That has me sitting up, trying to focus my burning eyes on the caller ID.
Fuck.
