by Marci Bolden
“You have every right to be upset.”
“But I’m not. Not anymore. I was for a long time. New Year’s Eve was tough. We knew, or we thought—”
“We?”
“Dianna and me.”
“Dianna?”
“Yes.”
“Mitch told me you guys were together, but I didn’t believe him. I mean, what could you possibly see in her?”
Paul lifted a brow. “You mean beyond the fact that she’s kind and generous and beautiful?”
Michelle snorted. “Please, Paul. I’ve seen her.”
“Excuse me?”
“She might be kind and generous and all that, but she looks like an old pair of boots. Tired and worn down.”
Rage rolled through Paul. He clenched his jaw and took a slow breath to contain his anger. “Maybe that’s because she’s always taking care of everyone else while that worthless husband of hers was too busy screwing you to notice no one was taking care of her. Maybe if he’d put half the effort into his wife as he did his mistress, she wouldn’t look so tired and worn down. You may think I smothered you, but did you ever want for anything? Was there ever a time when I didn’t take care of you? She doesn’t have that. She’s never had that because he’s too goddamned selfish to even notice her.”
Michelle leaned back a bit but didn’t speak.
“She may not dye her hair every other week or put her makeup on with a trowel, but she is beautiful. Inside and out, which is more than I can say for you. While you’ve been living the high life with her husband, she’s taught me a thing or two about myself. All those things you hated, Michelle—the flowers and the attention—those are things that most women appreciate. The only reason you didn’t was because you wanted them on your terms. You want everything on your terms. But my terms have changed, and there’s no way in hell you can live up to what I want, so you might as well turn your ass around and leave.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
“That’s not your business.”
She rotated her jaw, and her eyes turned cold as she narrowed them to glare at him. “She’s going to take him back, you know. She’s pathetic. She has no way of surviving without him.”
“Actually, she’s been doing pretty amazing.”
She turned toward the door and then stopped. “He’s probably there right now, Paul. Crawling into her bed. Telling her all those sweet things a weakling like her needs to hear. She’s probably already forgotten about you.”
He didn’t move as Michelle walked away. But every footstep made his heart feel heavy. Not because she was leaving him but because she was right. Mitch was going to beg Dianna to take him back. And because Paul had walked away from her, because Paul had left her, she was going to listen to Mitch. She was going to take Mitch back because Paul was too stupid to recognize what everyone else could. He was in love with Dianna.
Chapter Eighteen
By the next afternoon, Dianna was tied in knots. She couldn’t even see straight. She’d spent all night thinking, re-thinking, and thinking again. The one person she wanted to talk to about all her problems was the one person she couldn’t. Paul had closed the door, at least for now, on their relationship. It didn’t help that she kept waiting for Annie to say something about her relationship, or lack thereof, with Paul.
As if they sensed that she was on the verge of breaking, her co-workers left her alone. Which, honestly, only added to her apprehension. It wasn’t like Annie to avoid her.
Dianna didn’t look up until the front door opened and a delivery man walked in carrying a vase holding a huge bouquet of brightly colored flowers. They were beautiful, but she didn’t smile when he said the delivery was for her.
She signed for it and then opened the card.
I love you! Mitch
Disappointment seized her. Had she actually thought they’d be from Paul? Yes, part of her had. Or at least had hoped. She tucked the card back in the envelope and set the vase out of the way without so much as smelling the flowers. She focused on her work, ignoring the delivery—ignoring the world until Annie tapped on the counter.
She looked at the flowers looming over Dianna’s desk, but Dianna pretended not to notice.
“They’ve come back with a really nice counteroffer. You want to talk about it?”
She nodded and followed Annie into her office. She sat across from Annie, who pushed papers across to her.
“They’ve come up three thousand and are willing to cover their closing costs. That’s a pretty good jump. I think you should accept.”
Dianna stared at the papers, and a tear rolled down the side of her nose. She swiped it away, hoping that Annie hadn’t seen it. “Can, uh, can I have some time to think about it?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yo-yo on this.”
“This is a big decision. You have to do what feels right.”
“I just wish I knew what that was.” She pushed herself up.
“Di,” Annie called. “If you need some time off—”
“I don’t. I’m fine.”
“If you do, just ask.”
“Thanks.” She left Annie’s office and collapsed behind her desk. Turning her chair, she looked at the brightly colored flowers. She wished things could be simple, that she had a sign directing her toward what she should do. Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone. She tried to sound happy as she answered. “Thank you for calling O’Connell Realty.”
“Good afternoon.”
Dianna closed her eyes at the cheery voice. “Hi, Mitch. Thank you for the flowers.”
“I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. Have you had lunch yet?”
“Um, no. Actually, I haven’t.”
“May I pick you up? We could talk some more about taking the house off the market.”
She looked at her bouquet. Was this the sign she’d been wishing for? Was this the universe’s way of telling her what she should do? “Sure,” she said weakly.
Within the hour, Dianna climbed into Mitch’s truck and fastened her seat belt.
He touched her forehead. “Are you okay? You look sick.”
She closed her eyes and pulled away. “I’m stressed.”
“Because of me?”
“Because of everything. They came back with a counteroffer. A good one. I’d be an idiot not to take it.” She looked out the window as he backed out of his parking spot. “I am so mad at you right now. I can’t believe what you are putting me through.”
“I’m sorry. I’m trying to make up for it, Di.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
They didn’t speak again until he pulled into a drive-through. She ordered a sandwich and a water and then sat back in more tense silence until he parked his truck overlooking a pond near their neighborhood. She thanked him when he handed her a foil-wrapped sandwich and unwrapped it before covering it back up and tossing it aside.
“They put mustard on it.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Of course they’d put mustard on it. She’d specifically asked them not to, and it was just her luck these days for everything that could go wrong to go wrong, including her fucking hamburger.
“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Mitch said softly. “All this stress isn’t good for you.”
She scoffed and looked out at the ice-covered water.
“Let me ease some of that for you,” he said. “I owe you that much.”
“And all I have to do is give you another chance to put me through this hell again, right?”
“If you decide to give me another chance, I know I would do better. Come on, Di. I can’t stand to see you this torn up. You look like you’re about to break.”
She laughed softly. “I think I’ve already broken. I think I broke the night…” She stopped herself from saying the night Paul left.
“I know.”
She shook her h
ead, letting him think he was the one who cut away her final bit of strength. She didn’t care enough to correct him.
“The house sold quickly this time,” he said. “It will sell quickly again if you decide to put it on the market. But at least it will be because you are ready and not because you are desperately trying to keep your head above water.”
“I don’t trust you enough to count on you for that long. What if you work things out with her and leave me high and dry again?”
“We can go to the bank right now. I’ll transfer enough to cover three months’ mortgage plus a cushion for your utilities and expenses. Three months without the financial noose around your neck would clear your mind enough to think about us and where we stand. And I’m not going back to Michelle. She was the single biggest mistake of my life. I know that now.”
Dianna closed her eyes and sank down in the passenger seat. She’d been tossing his offer around since he’d made it. Three months of not worrying about money would be heaven. It would be all she had been asking for. But at what cost? She’d feel obligated to give Mitch a chance. Was that fair to him? To her? When she was so torn over how she felt about Paul?
“Three months of not worrying. Can you really turn that down?” Mitch pressed.
“But the offer on the house—”
“There’ll be another offer if you decide to sell later. This isn’t a onetime shot, honey. There’re always people looking to buy houses, and you’ve made our home beautiful. Someone will want it.”
“I can’t imagine not living in that house,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to. At least not for the next three months.”
She looked at him, and he smiled as he started the truck.
Paul parked next to Dianna’s car and took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He probably should have called first, but he’d been working up the nerve to face her. He didn’t want to give her the chance to tell him she needed time—the very excuse he’d given her. He grabbed the bouquet of roses he’d picked up on his way and hurried into the lobby of his sister’s business.
His smile fell when Dianna wasn’t sitting behind her desk.
Annie stepped into the lobby. “She’s out to lunch.”
“Oh. Her car is still here.”
Annie shrugged. “She didn’t say who picked her up, but I’m fairly certain it was Mitch.”
Paul’s heart dropped to his stomach, and then his stomach bottomed out. “How can you be so sure?”
She nodded toward Dianna’s desk. There was a huge bouquet of flowers. “She was barely out the door before I snooped at the card. They’re from him.”
Paul sat heavily on a bench in the waiting area. “I blew it, didn’t I?”
“I don’t think so.” Annie sat next to him. “She hasn’t exactly looked happy the last few days. I don’t think she’s thrilled that he’s back in her life.”
“She isn’t thrilled about anything happening in her life right now. She all but begged me to be there for her, and I turned my back on her. I’m such an idiot.”
“No. You were trying to do what is right for everyone involved.”
“Was I? Or was I just too damn scared to go after what I wanted?”
“You’ve both been hurt. It makes sense to take your time and be sure.”
“What if doing what made sense cost me Dianna? I pushed her away, Annie. I told her to forgive him.”
“You told her to consider everything that was going on before making a choice.”
“I should’ve…I should have told her how I feel. I should have shown her all the cards before telling her to make a choice.”
Annie’s phone rang. She showed the screen to Paul. It was Dianna. “Hello?”
Paul leaned close so he could hear.
“Annie, it’s Dianna. I, um, I’m sorry, but I’m going to pull the house from the market.”
Paul’s heart dropped. There was only one way she could afford to do that—if Mitch was going home. He fell back and looked up at the ceiling.
He was too late.
Paul sat in his dark living room, nursing his second glass of vodka. His feet were propped up on the coffee table as he slouched on the sofa staring into the darkness. When he’d sat down, the sun was still shining, but he hadn’t bothered to get up once it set to turn on a light. He sighed when his phone rang. He’d ignored two calls from Annie already. He expected this one to be from Matt. But when he looked at his phone, his heart grew heavy. It was Dianna. He knew why she was calling. To tell him she was back with Mitch. He smiled slightly. At least she had enough respect for him to let him know what was going on.
His smile faded, and he ignored the call. Once the caller ID screen faded, he was met with a picture of them on his phone’s wallpaper. Her face was pressed against his as he snapped the photo on New Year’s Eve. It was taken well before midnight, well before they had kissed, before things had fallen apart. He sighed when the phone beeped to let him know he had a voice mail. He wanted to listen to it to hear her voice, but he didn’t want to hear her words.
He downed what was left in his glass and looked at the bottle of liquor tempting him to have another. Instead, he picked up his phone again. He ignored the message that he had a voice mail and opened his Facebook app. He scrolled through his history. Almost everything had something to do with Dianna—a check-in from someplace they ate, a comment about something they’d done, a photo of them together on Christmas. Milestones of the relationship that they both insisted they didn’t have. Sighing, he closed the application and called his voice mail. He put the phone to his ear and held his breath as her voice came to him.
“Hey.” She sounded nervous. “I don’t know if you want to hear from me right now or not. I kind of made a mess of things the other night. I’m sorry about that. I just wanted to let you know that I took the house off the market. Mitch is going to help me out for a few months. We’re not back together,” she added quickly. “He wants me to think about things. And to not sell the house until I decide, so…I don’t know what that means for us…Mitch and me, I mean…I just…”
Paul imagined her biting her lip in that way she did when unsure of herself.
“I can’t keep going on like this. I need things to settle down for a while, and he’s giving me that. So, I guess I’m taking the coward’s way out of this mess, at least for a few months. I hope you understand and…I guess I thought you should hear it from me. Take care of yourself, Paul.”
The message ended, and he let out the breath he’d been holding. She wasn’t the one who’d made a mess of things the other night. He was the one who screwed everything up. She sounded miserable—broken and defeated. He wanted to go to her, to hold her and tell her to forget Mitch. He’d take care of her. He’d take care of everything.
He even started to stand before the vodka rushed to his head and he fell back down. He put his elbows to his knees and held his head as the room spun around him. When it slowed, he exhaled slowly and swallowed the dread that had been clouding his heart.
He couldn’t go to her. Not now. She’d made her choice. She’d taken her house off the market, turned down the offer she had on it. Mitch had stepped in to save her, and she’d accepted him.
“What did I do?”
Chapter Nineteen
The realization that he was an idiot came over Paul yet again as he drove home Monday—Valentine’s Day. He’d called the florist and canceled the flower delivery he’d scheduled weeks ago for Dianna. They’d offered to alter the delivery address, but he’d declined. He didn’t have anyone to give them to.
And why didn’t he have someone to give them to? Because he was a chicken shit. He’d had a woman he cared about—loved—standing in front of him asking him to take her, and he’d said no.
He flipped off the radio, tired of hearing slow songs and commercials about jewelry and flowers.
“Come on,” he yelled at the car in front of him. He pressed his hand against the horn when the car didn’t move
the moment the light turned green. He cursed the drivers around him as he made his way home. Once inside, he dropped his briefcase, kicked off his shoes, and hung up his coat, but as soon as he turned around and noticed the blue walls, he was instantly reminded of Dianna. Just as he had always been reminded of Michelle when the room was that hideous red-orange color she’d loved so much. He’d hated his home for so long because it reminded him of his wife. Now he hated it because it reminded him of Dianna.
He couldn’t win for losing.
The only room untouched by Dianna, as had been with Michelle, was his office. He reheated leftover pizza while he changed into house pants and a T-shirt, and then he carried his dinner and a beer into his office and sank into the chair as he waited for his computer to boot up. He’d spent the better part of the weekend in that room and was content to spend his evening there as well, but then Annie called out to him. He dropped his pizza on the plate and set it on the desk.
“Back here!”
She walked into the office and leaned against the door, frowning at him. “Come to dinner with me.”
“No.”
“Pauly, get your ass up and come with me. I’ll be damned if I spend yet another Valentine’s Day home watching CSI reruns by myself.”
“Why don’t you have dinner with Marcus?”
Annie glared at him. “I don’t date my employees.”
“Too bad. He likes you.”
“Which proves that he’s an idiot. I don’t date those either.”
Annie actually didn’t date anyone. She had an almost twenty-year-old daughter but had never been married. She’d said she didn’t like the girl’s father enough to commit to him, and he didn’t like her enough to stick around.
Paul looked at the dried-out pizza slice on his desk. “How was she today?”
