Clearing my throat, I get to the point of this conversation. “I called to tell you that I’m moving out of the house, so it’s all yours after this weekend.”
Silence.
“Why?” he chokes out.
“Because we’re separated.” I have no idea what else to say. I thought it was pretty obvious.
“I told you I’d take care of you though.”
This is the problem. He thinks taking care of me in the financial sense is all I need. It’s why we’re in the position we’re in. “I know, and I appreciate it, but I can’t let you do that.”
“You’re really going to go through with this?” The hope from moments ago when he answered has been obliterated, crushed like the sand beneath a wave.
“I want to be happy. I deserve to be happy.”
“Yes, you do,” he says sadly.
“I’ll have my things out by Sunday. I can mail you my key or leave it under the rock on the back deck.”
“It doesn’t matter. Whatever is easiest for you.” The defeat in his tone and the heartache that coats each word hits me in my soul no matter how much I try to block it out.
“Okay, bye,” I end awkwardly.
His response is a click through the line, letting me know the call has ended.
I don’t realize a tear is streaming down my face until Lydia hands me a tissue. “Are you okay?” she asks.
I nod as I wipe it away. “I will be.”
“You’re strong and we’ll be here for you while you get through this,” Paige adds.
“I know, and I love you girls for it.” I shake my head angry with myself for getting so emotional. “These boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves.” I’m hoping they take the hint and let me change the topic. Luckily, they drop all conversation about Nate and we get the rest of my things settled in my new home.
After they leave, I sit on the couch and stare at a blank wall. I didn’t take a TV, so that’ll be the first purchase I make for myself. I inhale deeply through my nose and let it out, releasing all the tension that has been coiled up within my body.
Here’s to my new start.
THE WEEKEND FLEW by way too fast, but I’m proud to say that I’m settled into my new place and ready to start the work week. After throwing a blush pink blazer over a white blouse and black skinny jeans, I slip on my heels and head out the door. My good feeling quickly fades when I get in my car and it won’t start.
Silence meets my ears as I turn the key in the ignition. Everything is still except for the hammering of my heart as it plummets to my stomach when I realize there’s a problem.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Resting my forehead on the steering wheel, I let out a frustrated sigh. I don’t have time for this. I pop the hood and get back out of my car to walk around to the front. After I feel around for a bit, I’m able to unlatch and raise the hood. I’m not sure why I’m doing this. It’s not like I have a clue as to what I’m staring at. I’m going to have to call Marcus or someone to come help me. As soon as that thought rolls through my head, a familiar voice grabs my attention.
“Car trouble?” Looking up, I see Ethan pulled up behind my car.
My shoulders sag in exaggerated defeat. “It seems that way.”
Without a word, he puts his truck in park and hops out to help me. “Alright, let’s see what we have here,” he says once he’s standing beside me. He rolls up the sleeves of his button-down shirt, and I’m transfixed by his toned forearms. I’ve never paid attention to this part of a man’s body before, but he’s got this whole sleeve rolling thing down to an art form and I can’t help but stare.
“I don’t want you to be late for work too. I can call a friend,” I tell him.
“I am a friend.” With a flash of his teeth, I find myself smiling in return. “Why don’t you get in and give it a crank?” I do as he requests, but still nothing. “It’s probably the battery. Did you leave your lights on or anything?”
“No,” I respond, but as soon as I look down at the knob that turns them on, I see my mistake. “Oh, I guess I did.” My brow furrows in confusion as I run through my weekend trying to figure out when I would’ve done this. I haven’t left since we brought all my stuff over here and that was during the day. Shaking my head, I shrug it off and realize I must be out of it.
“You know, if you keep them on auto, that wouldn’t happen,” he tells me with a grin.
“It’s habit to turn them on, but apparently not off.”
His deep chuckle hits my ears. “No worries; it’s an easy fix then. I’ve got some jumper cables in my car, but I won’t be able to reach you,” he says as he points to the two cars on each side of me. “I’ll push, you steer, okay?”
“Ethan, really, you’re going to get your clothes all dirty. I appreciate it, but I’ll feel bad if you’re late.”
He pauses and stares at me for a moment before saying, “How about this? I’ll give you a ride to work, and can fix it for you afterward.”
A grateful smile spreads across my face and I nod. “Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”
I follow him to the passenger side of his Tacoma where he opens the door for me. “It’s my pleasure,” he responds to my gratitude.
The first thing I notice when he closes the door is his cologne. It’s everywhere in here and overloads my senses, but not in a bad way. I have to resist the urge to bury my face in the seat and take a big inhale.
“We should carpool more anyway. It doesn’t make sense for us to both waste gas on days that we work the same shift,” he comments once he gets in.
“How’d you know I work the same shift as you?” I don’t even know when he’s supposed to get off tonight.
“Because you work the same hours every day.” That makes sense, but I’m a little surprised he’s paid close enough attention to notice. Nate wouldn’t have known that. He was too preoccupied with himself.
“Well, aren’t you observant,” I tease.
He just shrugs and continues watching the road. “How are you liking your new apartment?” Ethan asks.
“I like it a lot, actually. It’s nice and quiet and has everything I need, so no complaints here.”
He nods. “Good. Bought any sugar I can borrow yet?” His eyes move toward mine while a grin spreads across his face.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t been to the grocery store yet. It’s been delivery for me for the last couple of days.”
“Why don’t I give you my number, and you can call me if you ever need anything. If I wasn’t driving by, you might’ve been stuck there for a while.”
I fish my phone out of my purse and tell him to go ahead. Once I have his contact info saved, I call his number until I hear it vibrating inside his pocket, then hang up. “That was me. Now you have mine too.”
“Awesome.” There he goes flashing those perfect teeth again.
“Tell me about yourself, Ethan. I don’t know much about you, and I was always taught not to get in a car with a stranger.”
“Is that right?” he responds with a deep chuckle. I nod. “Okay, what do you want to know?”
Pursing my lips together, I think about my first question. “Did you grow up in this area?”
“Nope, I’m a transplant. Moved here from out West.”
“Where from?”
“California.”
“What brought you out this way?”
He shrugs while he adjusts in his seat. “Just needed a change.”
My eyes narrow at his vagueness, but I leave it alone. He doesn’t owe me any answers, and the last thing I want to do is piss him off when he’s helping me out.
“Is your family still out there?”
I notice the tick in his jaw. “They’re around.” Realizing this is probably a sore subject with him, I change topics.
“Favorite hobby,” I blurt out.
An appreciative grin appears on his face. “That’s random.” I shrug, not knowing what to say. “Well, that’s easy; driving
pretty girls around.” He winks, and it does the strangest thing to me. I’m not used to having any other reaction except annoyance, disappointment, and hurt in regards to a man. So when my stomach flutters, it’s a foreign feeling and I’m not sure what to think of it. My mind goes back to my conversation with Paige and I try to relax. I’m only feeling this way because it’s new and nice; that’s all.
“If I want to hang out with you, I need to bring some pretty girls with me to ride with you. Noted,” I tease.
“What are you talking about? You are the pretty girl.” We stop at a red light and he looks me dead in the eye. There’s no laughter in his expression and it takes me by surprise. This went from lighthearted to serious in half a second, and I wasn’t ready for it.
“You have to stop doing that,” I whisper.
“Doing what?” He searches my face for answers I’m sure are written all over me like a book. I’m not emotionally available.
“Saying things like that to me.”
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
He looks deep into my eyes, and I swear he can see every crack and crevice that has yet to be healed from the failure of my marriage. The sound of honking breaks the moment and Ethan turns his attention to the road where we see the light has turned green.
Neither of us says anything until we pull up to work. “Thanks again, and I’ll see you at five, right?”
“Yep, I’ll be ready,” he responds.
With a tight smile, I grab my purse and walk into the office to clock in.
This is too soon, right? I’ve only been separated from my husband for a little under three months. I should swear off men for a while and figure out who I am as a single woman, but despite telling myself this, I can’t help the pull I have toward Ethan even if it doesn’t make sense. I’ve only known him for a month, so I know what I’m going through is more infatuation than anything, but it’s still alarming and has me slightly freaked out.
“Thanks again, Ethan. You saved the day.” When we got back to the apartment complex, the spot beside my car was empty, so he was able to pull up next to me and jump my battery. Voila, it’s fixed.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and actually looks embarrassed by the praise. It seems so at odds with the usual confidence he displays, and I find it endearing.
“No problem.”
“Let me make it up to you,” I offer. He did me a huge favor and kept me from having to bother one of my friends to come out this way.
“Okay . . . How about dinner?” he suggests. Dinner is a little more intimate than I’d like, and with the confusion going on in my head right now, I know it’s not a good idea. My hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, and he immediately switches tactics. “What about coffee?” The hopeful look on his face makes it hard to resist.
“Coffee sounds great, actually.” I hope the relief I feel isn’t clear in my tone, but I’m grateful that he already has a read on me and can tell when I’m not up for something.
“You tell me when, and I’ll pick the place.”
“How’s Saturday?” I suggest.
“I don’t go in to work until later that afternoon, so that works for me.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later then.”
He waves before telling me bye.
We each go our separate way as we head toward our apartments. I find myself smiling as I unlock my door, and for once, I don’t overanalyze the reason behind it.
Me: Are you awake?
I CHEW ON my lip as I wait for her reply; it comes through only minutes later.
Paige: Yeah, what’s up?
Instead of texting, I dial her number.
“An actual phone call this early on a Saturday? This must be good,” she says when she answers.
“What can I say? Your words of wisdom are invaluable to me.”
Her light laughter hits my ears. “In all seriousness, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m doing really well.” Looking at the clock, I see I only have about thirty more minutes until he’s here. “As a matter of fact,” I say while picking at the hem of my shirt. “I’m about to go out for coffee with someone.”
“Would that someone be Ethan?” she pries.
“Yeah.”
“That’s great, Charlotte.” Her tone perks up and I can tell she’s genuinely happy for me. Her attitude is contagious and helps lift some of the anxiety I was feeling moments ago.
“Thanks,” I reply with a shy smile.
“Why don’t you seem more excited about this? You sound like you’re headed for jury duty or something.”
I let out a sigh. “Am I rushing this?”
“Is that what you’re worried about?”
“Sort of,” I admit. It’s the one question that replays in my mind over and over again. The one question that no matter how often I ask, I’m unable to answer.
“It’s been what, three months since you left Nate?”
“Yes.” Three months as of tomorrow, actually.
“Do I think you’re rushing? No, but I can’t be the one to make that decision for you. You do what you feel is right and stop worrying about everything else. Do you like Ethan?” she asks.
A small smile touches my lips. “Yeah, he’s nice.”
“Then there you go. Have fun and explore your options. You’re not walking down the aisle; you’re getting a cup of coffee. Relax and enjoy yourself.”
Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath and let it out along with my worries. This internal back and forth is giving me whiplash, and I haven’t been able to identify the source until this exact moment.
Guilt.
I feel guilty going out with another man. I’m still legally married, and in three months I’m basically saying I’ve moved on from a seven year relationship, five of which we spent married. While I know that statement isn’t accurate, it doesn’t lessen the burden my conscience places on me. Hearing Paige reassure me that I’m doing nothing wrong helps alleviate those emotions.
“Thanks, girl. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“You better.”
After we say goodbye, I hang up the phone and am startled when it immediately rings in my hand. My heart goes from rapidly beating to a complete stop as soon as I read the name on my caller ID.
Nate.
My finger hovers above the screen trying to decide if I should hit accept or decline. I haven’t talked to him since I moved out. Despite my mind telling me to let it go to voicemail, I find myself connecting the call and holding the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” he says when I don’t say anything.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Hi.”
“Hey, Charlotte. It’s, uh, Nate. How are you?”
My good mood from a second ago deflates. I close my eyes as I try to block out the image of him in my mind. The last clear picture I have of him as I told him I didn’t want to be his partner in life anymore. He’s trying to sound better off than he is. It’s in the way his voice cracks when he said my name, and the flat tone of his words. It sends a pang straight through my chest. It’s hard not to care. I may not be in love with him anymore, but that doesn’t stop me from caring. “I’m good. How are you?”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “I’ve been better. Are you settled in and liking your new place?”
I look around the room not sure how to answer him as the awkwardness makes its presence known. Does he want to hear how I love it here, or is he expecting me to be miserable? “Uh, yeah, it’s great,” I reply.
“Well, good. Um, so the reason I called was to let you know I’ve got a huge stack of mail here for you. Do you want to come get it? Or I could bring it to you.”
Crap. I keep forgetting to forward my mail. It’s not like anything important gets sent to me anyway, but still. “Sorry about that. I’ll submit a change of address this weekend. You can just stick it in the mailbox and I’ll come get it.”
“Oh, well I’ll be home all weeke
nd, so if you want to stop by . . .” He lets his offer hang in the air, and it crushes me that he’s holding on to any hope at all.
“Nate—” I’m cut off by a knock at the door. “Hold on a second.”
Opening the door, I’m greeted with a wide smile as Ethan stands there with his hands in his pockets. “You ready to go?” he asks, pointing over his shoulder toward the parking lot.
“Who’s that?” Nate asks, his whole demeanor changing. Anger coats each word as he spits them out at me. “Are you already seeing someone? Jesus Christ, that didn’t take you very long.” His hostility mixed with disgust takes me aback. I don’t think Nate has ever talked to me like that.
“He’s just a friend of mine. We’re grabbing some coffee together.” I don’t owe him an explanation, so I’m not even sure why I felt the need to clarify.
Soon, all thoughts vanish from my mind as Ethan leans in, kisses me below my ear and whispers, “Do all your friends give you goose bumps?”
I stand here with my mouth open like a gaping fish as my brain spins its wheels trying to put words together to form sentences.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have responded that way,” I hear Nate say through the phone, but the only thing I can concentrate on are piercing green eyes and a knowing grin. “I’m going to let you go. I’ll leave your mail in the mailbox for you. Bye, my love.” My breath catches and I know he realizes his slip up when he says, “Sorry, it’s a habit. Bye, Charlotte.”
“Bye.”
“Let’s go.” Ethan reaches for my hand, so I quickly grab my purse and keys off the counter before he can pull me through the door. Once we’re in his car and on our way, he asks, “Who was that on the phone?”
His eyes remain on the road as I study him for his reaction. “My husband.”
“Your soon-to-be-ex-husband,” he corrects.
Seeing his lack of a negative response relaxes me. “Yes. I forgot to forward my mail, so he was just letting me know that I have some at the house ready for pickup.”
“If you don’t feel like going back there, I could always run over and get it for you.” He glances at me for a brief second before he concentrates on the road again.
Risk and Reward Page 4
