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Or maybe you’re just full of shit, Nick.
I lifted the beer bottle, tipping it back. Sure, it was still early in the afternoon, but considering how my day had started, I didn’t think anyone would blame me for getting an early start on the festivities.
On the first day of the rest of my life.
I looked at the phone screen again. I’d been putting it off for hours. The agreement was clear: call Dennis as soon as the seven days have elapsed and tell him how it went.
Relating all I’d learned this past week was something that was not going to at all fit in the space of a phone call.
Especially when all I wanted to do at that moment was throw my phone into the fucking sun.
My thumb was hovering over Dennis’ icon on my screen when the muted chime of the front doorbell sounded from somewhere in the house.
“Fuck,” I muttered, getting up from the deck chair, my beer dangling between two fingers. Probably the same nice people I’d already told twice last week that I wasn’t interested. That I’d already been “saved.”
The doorbell sounded again.
“I’m coming! Jesus!” Making my way to the door, I set the bottle down on the side table in the foyer. Wouldn’t make sense greeting those boys with a beer in hand, would it?
Whoever it was, they were impatient.
Ironic that, when you’ve now got all the time in the world.
Swinging the door wide, I was ready to curtly tell them to head off down the street…when I saw her standing there.
“Eva?”
“Hi, Nick.” She was wearing a smart pale gray business suit, slacks and jacket cut perfectly to accentuate her hips and the swells of her breasts. Her sunglasses completed the ensemble. She looked like a million bucks.
I was still wearing the t-shirt and warm-ups I’d had on when she’d walked out of my life for good.
I glanced at my watch. “Um, you were supposed to be in the air an hour ago.”
“I…I know. I was…I was in the goddamned jetway, waiting to get on the plane. And…I just realized…I had to ask you one last question. I thought the gate agents were going to have me arrested, but they let me go back. They…weren’t happy with me.” She forced a smile, her quivering hands gesturing in front of her. “I just needed to know. I couldn’t go without knowing.”
She looked back toward the street, waving at a taxi that was idling along the road. The taxi pulled slowly away, chirping its horn once as it went.
“I…have to ask you something. I should have…asked you.” She looked down. “I just need to know…for closure, I guess.”
Leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, I inclined my head. “What is it?”
I hated the way my heart was beginning to trip-hop. False hope was the worst kind of all.
“I just…I need.” She took a deep breath, her hands wringing together in front of her. Then she lifted her gaze to mine. “Do you still love me?”
I froze an instant, shocked at the question. Then I tightened my jaw.
Tell the truth, asshole.
“Yes.”
Her pretty lashes fluttered. “No, I mean. Are you still…inlove with me?”
I stared at her for a long moment, my heart twisting in my chest at having to admit it. “Yes.”
Her hand went to her mouth, and she made a tiny sound that almost sounded like a whimper. “I just… needed to know. Because of this.” She reached into her jacket… and extracted the dissolution document. Then my jaw dropped as she tore the document to shreds, flinging it behind her, the tattered remnants catching in the blades of grass as the breeze tumbled them across the lawn. “I’m not giving you a divorce, Nick.” She smiled then, holding up her hands. “Because even on the worst days. Even when I hated you? Even when we were apart—especially then—I… never stopped loving you, Nick.” She swiped the tear off her cheek. “I just… wanted you to know that.”
Incredibly, she turned away, as if she was going to walk away. I snatched at her arm, catching hold of her sleeve and spinning her around. “What are you doing?”
