Page 106 of Second Chance

“They want me to move. I may have trouble seeing, but I’m not deaf. I’ve heard them discussing what to do with me as if I need doing with.” Magnolia practically pouts like she’s a child. Her daughter Rosalyn came to the funeral minus her pastor husband and invited Magnolia to Texas.

What would I do in Texas? Magnolia snapped.

I hadn’t known Denton and Dolores wanted to move her. Since he left, I assumed the responsibility of Magnolia fell to Dolores, like it had for the last twenty plus years.

Cora’s eyes meet mine. As single women ourselves, we sympathize with Magnolia’s plight. She doesn’t want to leave her home, the only home she’s known her entire life. Cora refused to leave hers. She kicked Karl out instead. I never left mine. However, I can understand why Dolores may wish to move Magnolia closer to town, where it would be easier to keep an eye on her. From what I can see, though, Magnolia is still sharp as a tack. The stairs are her only danger zone.

“So, you’ve heard from Denton?” Cora asks, and my eyes narrow at her, finding her question insensitive. She already asked me if I’d heard from him, and I hadn’t.

“No, Denton doesn’t call me. He’s too busy being famous again.” Magnolia scoffs before reaching for her warm tea. “He’s like his father in those respects. Always wanting approval from a bigger sea than the pond.” My lips twist as I contemplate if she means Kip or Calvin. Kip certainly wanted his moment in the limelight as the town mayor, but what about the military hero? He wanted something more himself.

“Yes, he must be busy,” Cora smirks, not believing her own words. The entire drive to Magnolia’s she admonished Denton and his lack of communication with me. She’s seen the images of him on social media. He and Freya spent a week in Costa Rica. Cora believes he’s home now. I’ve given up stalking him, but she’s become a vulture for information.

Who needs men anyway? There are other ways to find pleasure in life.

Chocolate and wine are the only things that come to my mind, but I know that’s not what she means. I’m not ready for what Cora means. I’ve tasted Denton, and I’ll go back to starving myself of all things sexual. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I won’t be able to separate the physical from the emotional. Being with Denton proved this to me.

My phone pings and I excuse myself. Hollilyn is one month out from her due date, and I’m on alert for her labor. I was early with the twins. I enter the kitchen and find it’s a notification from Facebook. Did I set those up? I don’t even know how to do such a thing, but I enter the app and find the message.

Mati Harrington? I’m pretty certain I have the right woman. It’s Denton Chance. If you have a second, can you message me back?

There are so many responses I could make. I could not respond, but the message will haunt me. I could ignore it like he’s ignored me, but I know I can’t be so vengeful. I could cuss him out which is what he deserves, but instead, I decide killing him with kindness will make it all the better.

Denton Chance? I don’t know if I recall who you are. High school all-star athlete? Famous rockstar? Photographer wannabe? Cover model? Which one are you today?

Instantly I see the pop-up for a response, and I hate how I hold my breath waiting. The pop-up disappears and then returns.

Touché.

That’s it. That’s all he has to say. I spin to return to Magnolia and Cora when another response fills the screen.

He’s the one who’s sorry.

I pause in Magnolia’s wide hallway. My eyes lift to the ceiling. I sigh in frustration. I don’t want his apology. I want an explanation.

Sorry for what? There are so many words I could type to follow the question. For making my body sore and my heart ache? For giving me more than I expected in our one night together? For asking me to pretend when all of it was real to me? For leaving me behind again?

I opened Chris’s letter. My throat clogs and my eyes sting. I can’t do this. I don’t want to know what Chris told him. None of it will matter, and something takes hold of me, knocking the air out of my lungs—guilt. Guilt for giving into my attraction to Denton all these years later. Suddenly, I feel like I’ve cheated on Chris. And I know one thing for certain…

I don’t want to know what Chris told you.

The response is almost immediate.

It’s big, though. Really big.

Is he joking with me? I’m not doing this with him. I don’t want to play into his childish games of how big? I know how big he is, but his body parts aren’t the topic of this conversation.

What Chris said is between you and him.

A response takes a few seconds.

I understand. Just accept my apology, for everything.

For everything? I question but refuse to ask. I can’t hear him tell me he made a mistake. My guilty cup already overflows. Let me own my poor judgment of giving in to my lust for him.

Pretend you love me. I didn’t have to pretend. I’d been pretending my whole life that I didn’t.

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