Page 29 of Promise

The gallop of my heart is so strong, I swear he can hear it racing.

Mirabelle is so tiny in his hands, and he’s holding her like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever held.

It’s too much. It’s just too much. My eyes begin to burn again, and I blink repeatedly.

“Why don’t you let me hold her so you can eat?” Dart says quietly, offering me a moment. Not just for lunch but for my thoughts.

“I don’t think I could eat,” I admit, my stomach twisting once more.

“Just try,” he says in a hushed tone.

There is so much more in that simple request. More than I dare consider.

Like a second chance at loving him.

A second chance for both of us.

10

[Trinity]

To my dismay, Dart remains.

After lunch, he said he was going to work on stripping more of the roof, and I decided I needed to get away from the house I’d learned was still his, despite only my name being on the title.

I go to my mom’s, whom I tell I need a nap. “Just an hour break.”

Despite Dart’s sweet display with Mirabelle and half a sandwich for sustenance, my anger returns in a flash.

How dare he keep from me that we are still married? How dare he not sign those divorce papers? The sheer audacity that he’d kept this from me.

Not to mention, I could have unintentionally cheated. Not that I’d had any real interest in anyone else, but still . . . it could have happened.

He was unbelievable. Irresponsible. Downright deceptive even.

I’ve done years of personal work trying to heal myself. Grieve the ache of not having children. Mourn the loss of my marriage and Dart’s disappearance. I’m in a better place than I once was because of these past three years, and now this blast of information.

I can practically feel the anger bubbling in my veins. He had no right.

And in many ways, I feel betrayed once again. Disappointed. Let down. Alone.

Dammit, Dart.

As I lie awake on the double bed in my childhood room, I stare up at the ceiling, flipping through the stages of my life.

I’m not that thirteen-year-old girl anymore with Dart Rivers living down the hall.

I’m not the seventeen-year-old young lady who witnessed a friend have a miscarriage in a high school bathroom and decided right then and there I wanted to be a nurse.

That seventeen-year-old who finally took notice of Dart, my older brother’s best friend. Felt the way my belly stirred when I looked at him.

But I had big plans for me.

I went to nursing school, and after two years at another hospital, I took a job with County General and returned to my hometown for a while.

Dart Rivers was still here. Still friends with Tate. Working with Clint. A favorite of Dad’s.

When a much younger Dart left our house, he moved into a trailer outside of town for a few years, raising trouble that worried my parents he’d head down a similar path as his parents.