Page 105 of Divorced from Number Thirty-Eight
“What the fuck?” I growl, shoving her back.
“I won’t go!” she shrieks. “I won’t leave you.”
“You don’t want me,” I say as I plant a hand in the middle of her chest and push her out the front door. “You just want to be the one who decides we’re over. But Courtney”—I bend, fix her in place with a glare—“that’s done. We’re done. I’m never going back.”
Something’s unlocked in me?—
Maybe it’s seeing her like this and feeling nothing but disgust and pity.
Maybe it’s the time I’ve had with Faye—the peace, the calm, the sense of actually being seen, of having something different.
Maybe it’s the tiny bud of hope in my heart that—no matter my part in the toxicity that was Courtney and me—this isn’t all I get to have.
Maybe…I can have more.
More that isn’t Courtney.
She opens her mouth, takes a step toward me.
And, proving I’m holding firm to my words, I shut the door and flick the lock.
My hands shake, but not from want. From what Courtney and I used to mean…and that it’s finally loosened its grip on me.
Then she starts pounding on the door and I grit my teeth, know it’s not going to be that simple.
But…tomorrow I’ll deal with that shit.
Tonight, I just need some fucking sleep.
Thrusting a hand through my hair, I sigh and turn for the stairs.
Then freeze, every cell in my body tightening as panic knots my insides.
Because in the soft illumination of the lights she left on for me…
Faye is standing on the bottom step.
Thirty-Four
Faye
“Red,” he says carefully, arms extended, palms out.
As though he’s soothing a wild, panicked animal.
As though he’s afraid I’m going to turn and run after that scene I just witnessed.
And considering that Courtney is now banging on the door, her shrieks echoing through the wood, maybe he’s not far off.
She scares me, but more, I hate that he has to deal with her shit.
I don’t love the idea of having to deal with her either.
But I want Gray. I want him in my life, in my bed, in my arms.
Because I like him.
No, I love him.
