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He held up a hand, silencing me, and without another word, he stormed from the room. Hazel’s still sitting on the bed, looking shell-shocked. I turn to face her, pleading with my eyes, begging her to understand. “Hazel, I swear, it’s not what he thinks it is.”
“I think you’d better go,” she says softly, “I’ll go talk to him.”
“Hazel-”
“Please, Chip,” there’s a tremor in her voice, and I hate myself for upsetting her, “Just…go.”
I want to protest, to beg her to hear me out, but I also don’t want to keep pushing and upsetting her more. “Okay, I will, but Hazel, I swear to you, if you just let me explain, I can…”
I trail off, not sure how to finish the thought. What I’d been about to say was “I can fix this,” but the truth is, I have no idea how to fix this. How can I, when I don’t even know what “this” is?
She doesn’t respond, so once I’ve got my clothes back on, I quietly take my leave.
Once I’m out in the hallway, I let out a long, slow breath. My head is spinning. What the fuck just happened? One minute, I was in bed with them, the next, everything’s in pieces.
I shouldn’t care. After all, this was supposed to be a one-time thing anyway, and I’d probably already made a mistake by letting it go this far. But I couldn’t help it.
They’d gotten under my skin, in a way no one had managed to do, ever. Even when I’d been head over heels for Emma, sure that I was going to spend the rest of my life with her, I’d never felt this way.
I felt like some part of me was connected to the two of them, some spiritual tie that bonded us throughout eternity, and while it was kind of thrilling, it was also fucking terrifying.
I don’t know what the hell to do with myself, so I just start the walk back to my apartment. While I’m walking, I decide I may as well find out what Emma was calling about. If I’m going to be miserable, I might as well know why, right?
I pull my phone from my pocket and go to my call history, redialing the number. It only rings once before she picks up. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hey, sorry about earlier, is everything okay?” she asks.
I can’t help but be a little surprised by the cordial attitude. We hadn’t exactly parted on amicable terms. In fact, if I recall correctly, the last words we’d exchanged had included her calling me a “useless fucking bastard.”
“It’s fine,” I reply in a clipped, no-nonsense tone.
“Okay, good. That’s good. Um…how have you been?”
I snort. “Please, tell me you aren’t just calling to catch up and make small talk,” I say drily.
“No, I’m not,” I hear a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, “I’m sorry, this is just really awkward.”
“No kidding.”
“Well, look, Chip, I’m calling for a couple of reasons. The first of which is to tell you just how sorry I am for the horrible way I treated you. There’s no excuse for the things I did to you, and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just needed you to know that,” she says.
The words come out quickly, in a nervous flood, and I can tell that they’re genuine. It’s enough to stop me in my tracks, hovering outside the door of my apartment. “Well…thanks,” I reply, not sure what else I can say to that.
I’d never expected an apology from her, but I’m surprised by how much it actually means just to hear her acknowledge it. The entire time we’d been together, she’d denied any wrongdoing, even when I presented the proof to her face.
“You’re welcome,” she says.
Neither of us seems to know what to say after that, and the soft buzz of the silence over the phone is deafening.
Finally, I clear my throat. “Um, you said there were other reasons you called?”
“Yeah, I did. I was wondering if I could get an address for you, I’ve got some papers I need you to sign.”
“Would these be divorce papers?” I ask.
“Yeah. Figure it’s probably time after all these years, right?” she says with a nervous little laugh.
