Beware Falling Rocks

by Tymber Dalton

  “Go on, Mom.”

  “You really make me feel old when you call me that, you know.”

  “You love it.”

  “Yeah, I do.” After one last hug, Terrie headed out the door, finally.

  Lynn forced herself not to do anything, just in case Terrie had forgotten something, or turned around to tell her something else, or…anything.

  She waited a good thirty minutes before jumping up and changing clothes, jeans and a blouse, putting her shoes back on, and packing her laptop and iPad. Not bothering with makeup because it wasn’t worth the aggravation. Tears were likely in her future.

  Tissues.

  She snatched a handful of them from the dispenser on the vanity counter and stuck them in her purse.

  With the Waze app on her phone, she made it to the airport in under twenty minutes.

  And still nearly an hour until his flight landed.

  * * * *

  Paul’s gut pretty much stayed clenched from the second he awakened at his first alarm going off, after not getting more than an hour or two of sleep total, to the moment the plane’s wheels lifted off the tarmac.

  Then it only unclenched slightly, no longer excruciatingly painful and now hovering around severely aching. At this point, if something happened to the flight, it was beyond his control and hopefully wouldn’t bork whatever chance he might have with Lynn.

  He kept his eyes closed and tried to tune out the sounds around him in the cabin.

  All he wanted to think about was Lynn. About what he wanted to say to her.

  I’m sorry topped the list.

  Repeatedly.

  If he was able to get any further than that, he would do his best to tell her what she meant to him, how she’d always been on his mind, how he knew he’d never be able to completely atone for what he’d done, but he hoped she’d give him a chance to try.

  So many things to talk about with her.

  To let her vent, rage, scream, yell—all of it. Any of it.

  Maybe if the Universe was on his side, she might give him another chance.

  Maybe.

  He wasn’t sure of that. Not at all. This might be some sadistic revenge plot on her part to fly him up there just to humiliate him and metaphorically hand him his balls on a platter before spinning him around and sending him back to Florida on the turn-around flight.

  And he’d deserve that, too.

  He’d been in a type of stasis, only he’d slowly decayed in the process. Trying to shoulder the burden of Sarah’s recovery and their marriage. Twisting himself inside out to meet her every demand.

  Losing himself.

  Growing to resent and hate himself and his own cowardice. His failure to more thoroughly confront himself and his own feelings and doubts early on in his relationship with Sarah.

  His failure to protect Lynn, someone he’d promised to take care of and defend and never, ever, break a promise to.

  One-hundred-percent failure rate so far.

  However this worked out—whether this was closure she needed to move on or, possibly, an opening door—from this point on, he needed to move forward. Alone or with Lynn. If he maintained his current state of emotional and soul-level orbital decay, he’d be dead in ten years or sooner.

  He needed to figure out a way to pull himself out of his tailspin if Lynn sent him on his way. He had to learn to live again and quit wearing the metaphorical sackcloth undershirts he’d grown so comfortable with over the past couple of years.

  He knew what he wanted.

  Who he wanted.

  Whether or not it would come to pass still lay as high up in the air as he currently was.

  * * * *

  Lynn settled into a seat in the lobby and got comfortable where she could see the passengers emerging from the airside terminal section. Fortunately, she’d brought her phone charger with her because she kept hitting refresh on the app’s map.

  As the tiny airplane on her phone’s screen inched ever closer to Sioux Falls, Lynn started second-guessing herself. Though, after the ultimatum she’d issued Paul, she knew she couldn’t not be there when he landed. Well, she could not be there, but it’d be a pretty shitty thing to do to him.

  Despite everything, she didn’t have it in her heart to be shitty to him.

  Hell, she couldn’t even hate him.

  She might not be able to help the biting snark that would probably escape her mouth, but she could try to be the better person in terms of her behavior.

  When the flight was only fifteen minutes out, she packed her stuff and hit the bathroom. She was standing in the lobby, leaning against a pillar and waiting, when the app announced that his flight had landed and was taxiing to the gate.

  Then the arrival board announced it, too.

  Lynn was afraid she might pass out or puke. Now wishing she had Xanax in her, she nervously shifted her weight back and forth from leg to leg, her arms hugged across her chest as she tried to focus on breathing.

  Her fingers constantly sought out her necklace.

  Her collar.

  Would it even matter to him that she still wore it?

  This was a mistake. A really bad mistake.

  She wasn’t ready to do this, no matter what her stupid heart said.

  After several agonizing minutes, people finally started emerging from the gate area into the main terminal lobby. The airline used assigned seats, and the one she’d booked him had been at the rear of the cabin, so she knew it’d probably be a while.

  As the minutes ticked by and more people streamed out and toward the baggage claim belts, finally, she spotted him. Even before she could clearly see him or his face, she spotted the top of his head, the familiar way he walked, his dark brown hair.

  Without hesitation he headed directly for her. When he stood before her, he set his carry-on and computer bag down, and she stared up into his eyes. Next thing she knew she was in his arms. Even the extra twenty pounds he carried didn’t change how perfectly they still fit together.

  His chin rubbed against the top of her head as they stood there, silent, their arms wrapped around each other. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and maybe not even in a couple of days, but she missed feeling the neatly trimmed goatee and mustache he’d used to have.

  Because she’d loved the way it looked.

  Part of her wanted to say fuck caution, fuck everything, and pick up exactly where they’d left off, as if the past two years had been nothing but a nightmare.

  She knew that wasn’t healthy.

  At that moment, she really didn’t care, either.

  Lynn couldn’t speak, words locked in her choked throat, and was finally relieved of having to speak by the sound of the luggage carousel starting up a few yards away.

  Stepping back, she forced herself not to look into his eyes, knowing she’d burst into tears if she did.

  They walked over to the carousel to wait for his bag, still not speaking. When he had it, they headed for the terminal’s front door. As they reached the sidewalk, he held out his hand, palm-up, and without even thinking, she dropped the keys into it.

  They both froze.

  It was only then she realized she’d also automatically fallen into step on his right, the way she used to.

  Now their gazes met. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I…” He let out a sigh that sounded like it weighed a literal ton. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was—”

  “Reflexive,” she softly said.

  He nodded.

  She didn’t take the keys back, staring at them for a moment before she reached over and closed his fingers around them.

  “I think I need you to drive, Sir,” she softly said.

  * * * *

  She’s wearing her collar. Two fucking years later, she still wears her collar.

  On the heels of that, his next thought.

  I don’t deserve her. She deserves way better than me.

  Paul was aware that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but this was Sioux
Falls, South Dakota, not Tampa International. The five people they inconvenienced by making them walk around them could suck it.

  He set his carry-on down and, with his left hand, gently tipped her chin up and forced her to meet his gaze.

  Immediately, her eyes went bright, on the verge of tears, and he pulled her in again for another hug. This time, with his lips near her ear.

  “Before I screw this up,” he whispered, “I’m sorry, pet. I am so sorry, and I know that’s not nearly enough. I was wrong. I love you, and I never stopped thinking about you.”

  Her grip around him tightened, her body trembling, hitching as she silently sobbed against his shoulder and refused to let the sounds escape her.

  As he stroked her hair he felt how thin she was, almost painfully so, compared to her former lush curves.

  Behold what I’ve created.

  He didn’t rush her, didn’t try to hurry her, didn’t move from where they stood.

  Finally, she took a long, deep breath and before stepping back. As if it’d been two days and not two years, he recognized the signs immediately and released her.

  She nodded. “The rental’s this way,” she said, barely loud enough he could hear her over the sound of an airplane’s engine winding up somewhere close by. Then she stepped off the curb and started toward the parking lot.

  He followed.

  He would always follow her, for as long as she’d let him.

  The fact that she hadn’t slapped his face, turned him around, and sent him on his way gave him hope.

  And she still wore her collar.

  Still.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paul unlocked the rental car and loaded his bags into the back, holding out a hand for her computer case. Then he walked ahead of her and opened the passenger side door.

  Painfully familiar.

  Especially how she’d automatically waited for him to do it.

  The way they’d always done things when they were together. The way he’d insisted they be done and the way she’d always happily done them before.

  Once she was safely inside, he closed her door and walked around to get behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and adjusted the AC, the seat, the mirrors, and familiarized himself with the dash before taking a deep breath and looking over at her.

  Lynn’s hands lay clasped in her lap, her gaze focused on them. He reached over and risked stroking her hair again, his heart thundering against his ribs as she leaned into his touch.

  After a few minutes, she sniffled and her gaze darted his way before focusing on her hands again. “I’m okay.” Her voice sounded tiny, dull, muted.

  Nothing like the woman he’d left.

  Saying she was a shell of her former self would be extremely generous.

  “I don’t know where we’re going,” he quietly said.

  “I don’t either, Sir. We have to talk.”

  “I agree, pet, but I meant immediately.” Her gaze finally focused on him for more than a second. “I have no clue where we’re going.”

  That sweet pink blush he’d loved and missed rushed up her throat and into her cheeks. “Oh. Um, yeah. Sorry.” She pulled out her phone and called up an app. “I…” She sighed. “Do you want to go eat somewhere?”

  “I could eat.”

  She didn’t reply, and he fought the urge to not let it sit at that, to completely take charge.

  Yes, he’d give a few of his fingers, several of his toes, and his left testicle to win her back, but he also was smart enough not to repeat the same mistakes he’d made with Sarah.

  He wouldn’t lead until he knew Lynn was really ready to follow.

  Really ready.

  And that she was following not just because she was hurting and wanted to stop hurting or because she was looking for a safety net.

  Because she really wanted him to lead.

  Because she really wanted to follow him.

  She finally filled in the silent gap. “Breakfast or lunch?”

  “Either. You pick.”

  Another hesitation, her finger hovering over the phone. “I really don’t know where to go,” she said. “I’ve never been here before. I guess let’s drive and see what we find.”

  “Regardless of where we eat,” he said, “it’s my treat.”

  She looked like she was going to argue with him before biting it back. “Yes, Sir.”

  He reached for her free hand, brought it up to his lips, and brushed a kiss over it. “Are you really okay calling me that? Even after how I fucked up?”

  “It hurts worse not to. If I find that I can’t, I’ll tell you.”

  “Fair enough. Are you all right with me calling you ‘pet,’ or would you prefer I not do that?”

  She nodded.

  He gently squeezed her hand. “Was that an okay or a no?”

  “Okay. Please.”

  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I missed you so damn much. Thank you for this. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” she said. “Don’t fucking lead me on and then wipe me out again. I can’t handle it.”

  “I won’t. I promise. And this time, I swear I’ll never make you a promise I can’t keep.”

  She nodded. “Then let’s go eat.”

  * * * *

  Lynn knew she wouldn’t be eating in a literal sense of the word. She might nibble, but between her nerves and having just eaten not that long ago, she was more wanting to go somewhere neutral and sit and stare at his face.

  Yes, he’d gained weight.

  She didn’t care.

  Worse, he looked beaten, weary, tired. Much the way she herself felt. Like she was struggling in water over her head against a racing current and about to lose the battle to stay afloat.

  Maybe they’d both just found a sandbar.

  She could only hope.

  They ended up at a family restaurant that looked like it occupied a repurposed Pizza Hut building. In that nebulous period local time between breakfast and lunch on a Friday, there weren’t many other patrons in the dining room. They were able to get a booth in the corner. Once they had their drinks in front of them and were able to look at menus, Lynn finally relaxed and tried to focus on her breathing.

  This felt…right.

  So right.

  Maybe too right, or maybe the problem was she now felt paranoid, emotionally scorched, and doubted herself and her judgment.

  Did she doubt Paul?

  No. Because to the best of her knowledge, he’d never lied to her. Being forced to break a promise by someone else wasn’t the same thing, in her mind. In a way, while she knew it made her petty, part of her was glad to see he hadn’t weathered the past two years any better than she had.

  If anything, he looked like it’d hit him just as hard.

  They didn’t speak until after the waitress took their orders and left them alone again.

  When he reached halfway across the table, she automatically reached to join hands with him.

  The way they always had.

  In fact, she’d already found herself slipping one of her shoes off, to touch his feet.

  The way she always had.

  Like a knife, thousands of memories she’d both wanted to hold on to and forget at the same time came flowing back, slicing into her heart and soul and killing her with a sweet agony she wasn’t sure she could survive.

  Everything they’d lost. Everything she’d desperately missed.

  How alone she’d felt, even when surrounded by friends she knew who loved her.

  It wasn’t the same.

  They hadn’t been Him.

  If Lynn turned in a book with this plot, her editor would likely arch an eyebrow and ask why the heroine couldn’t just get over the hero if it was a contemporary. Maybe a paranormal or sci-fi book might have a legitimate reason for her not moving on from a breakup.

  This hadn’t been a breakup. It’d been a negligent relationship homicide by a third party, as far as she wa
s concerned.

  As much as she did want to talk about everything, get answers, hear him out, she knew if they started doing that here she would be in tears, and the last thing she wanted was a very public breakdown in a restaurant, strange city or not.

  “I’ve been reading your books,” he said. “I’m all caught up. Unless you started a pen name I don’t know about.”

  “She actually let you read my books?” She realized it came out snarky. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Fair question. No, she didn’t know about it. I ordered them on my Kindle account, and it was toward the end, after I’d filed for divorce.” He let out a sigh. “But I did visit your website even before that.”

  “Does this mean we can be friends on Facebook again?”

  “Yes. Please? I already unblocked you, but I didn’t want to send you a friend request until we’d talked in person.”

  She slowly nodded, focusing on her breathing. “Thanks,” she said.

  The invisible and massively bubbling elephant sitting slap in the middle of everything was that magic ticket.

  Boom.

  The wire transfer that should hit her bank account any day now.

  The huge change her life could take, if she wanted to.

  I need an alarm system.

  Wait, focus.

  At least she had one less worry in her life. For her and Terrie. They would be free to do the things they’d talked about doing, personally and professionally, when fantasizing about having that kind of windfall.

  “You don’t have to pay for my lunch,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  “Please let me do this. You flew me up here. I know you’re not rich. I feel guilty enough as it is. I don’t want you spending money on me. I’m the one who should be taking care of you. I’m not as well off as I used to be, but I’ll figure it out somehow.”

  It took every last ounce of will she had not to explode in tearful laughter, both over the news she held back and his feelings about her finances.

  Bless his heart.

  * * * *

  When they sat down, Paul had laid his phone facedown on the table, off to the side, in case work needed him. He’d left his work cell behind, but they knew to call him on his personal cell.