Dylan can’t help but be pleased that apparently Myra wasn’t impressed with all that stupid shit Ray gave her for Valentine’s Day. As Dylan picks up his measuring tape, he licks his swelled lower lip and thinks that Ray might be the next motherfucker that he beats the shit out of.
* * *
Myra listens to the guys pounding away on the roof for the rest of the day, but she doesn’t see or hear from either of them. She packs up some boxes, works on her writing, and gets some much-needed laundry done.
Her stomach growls loudly and when she glances up at the clock, she realizes that she forgot to eat lunch. Walking into the kitchen, she pulls out some veggies to make a salad. As she starts to cut a tomato, she accidentally slices into her thumb.
“Ow,” she mumbles as she reaches for a paper towel.
Hearing a knock on the door, she keeps the towel wrapped around her thumb as she heads to the front door. Peeping through the window, she sees Dylan. Her heart speeds up when she opens the door.
“We’ve got the tarps down again to keep the wind out.” He looks down at her hand. “What happened?”
“Oh, nothing,” Myra mumbles.
He looks into her eyes. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Myra’s brows furrow but she nods and steps to the side. “May I see it?” he asks as he holds his hand out.
“No, seriously, it’s nothing,” she says.
“Please?” he asks in a soft voice.
She swallows hard. “Okay,” she says, barely able to get the word out.
Dylan gently takes her hand in his and pulls off the paper towel. “How’d you do this?” he asks.
“Cutting a tomato.”
She watches his face as he continues to stare down at her hand. “Do you still have the peroxide and bandages?”
“No, it’s really nothing,” she says as she tries to pull her hand away from his but he holds onto it.
“I want to help. Where are they?”
She takes in a deep breath. “In the bathroom under the sink.”
He nods. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
As Myra walks toward the kitchen, her heart pounds hard. Taking in a couple of quick, calming breaths, she sits down. Within moments, Dylan pulls up a chair next to her and puts her hand in his lap. He looks over at her when their knees touch slightly. She scoots back, trying to avoid touching him as much as she can.
He looks back down at her thumb, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. Her mouth opens, her breathing shallow, as she watches him remove the paper towel and wet a cotton ball with some peroxide. “This will probably hurt,” he says softly as he looks into her eyes. Myra nods at him.
When he touches the peroxide-soaked cotton ball to the wound, she flinches, biting on her bottom lip. He murmurs, “Sorry,” as he gently cleans the wound and puts a bandage on it. He holds her hand in his and softly rubs her palm with his thumb as he stares into her eyes.
Myra yanks her hand back quickly. “Thanks,” she mutters.
“Myra, I, um I…”
She knows what she has to do. She can’t let this go on any further. “Look, I may sound crazy here because I might just be imaging it, but if there is something going on here it can’t happen, okay?”
Dylan’s brows pull together as he stares at her for a moment. “Why not?”
“Why not? Why not? I can’t believe you. What about Sabrina?”
Dylan jumps up, knocking his chair to the floor with a loud crash. “Motherfuck. How do you know that name?”
“Because…” Myra looks down the hallway towards the sound of someone knocking on the door. She looks back at Dylan. “Hang on,” she says before she walks quickly towards the door and peeks out of the window. Her mouth drops open as a startled gasp escapes her.
“Oh my God, this cannot be happening,” she mumbles, her heart beating so fast she fears it may fall out of her chest.
Dylan walks towards her, his face pale. “What?”
She doesn’t answer because she can’t breathe. She just shakes her head at him.
Dylan’s eyes narrow as he steps towards her and looks out of the window above her head. He looks back down at her with a crease in his forehead. “Who’s that?”
She stares up into his eyes. “It’s my… ex,” she whispers.
CHAPTER 15
EMERALD, JEALOUSY
Dylan stares at Myra’s panicked face. Just the mere thought that she has an ex leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, causing him to swallow heavily. He can’t even begin to digest this information because he still hasn’t recovered from what just went down in the kitchen. How the hell does Myra know about Sabrina?
Leaning forward, he glances out the window again at the prick standing on the porch. His jaw tightens as his fists clench at his sides. For some strange reason, he wants to hurt that man.
“Dylan?” Myra whispers. His eyes find hers. “Could you, I mean, is there any way you could stay for a few minutes?”
His forehead crunches up. “What for?”
Her face turns pink as she quickly tucks her hair behind her ears. “I just… please? Just for a few minutes until I can get rid of him.”
A dark laugh leaves his lips. “There’s no damn way I’m gonna stay here and help you make your ex jealous.”
“No, it’s not like that…” the guy knocks on the door again as she grabs Dylan’s arm. “I just, I need your help. Please?”
Dylan looks into her desperate, beautiful eyes and knows he can’t resist the woman. She has turned him into a pansy. “Shit. Fine,” he says before sighing loudly.
Myra’s eyes light up through her worried expression. “Thank you,” she breathes.
He runs his hand through his hair. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” Myra says. “Just don’t leave, okay?”
Dylan nods at her. He watches as she turns, takes in a deep breath and opens the door.
* * *
Myra holds her breath as she stares at Trent’s back. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his dress pants. He slowly turns and smirks. “I can’t believe you moved to…” He trails off when his gaze lands on Dylan. “Who is this?”
“What are you doing here?” Myra asks. “How did you find me?”
Trent takes a step closer to her and lowers his voice. “I needed to see you. We need to talk. Privately,” he says as he narrows his eyes and glares at Dylan.
“We have nothing to discuss, and you didn’t answer my question. How did you find me?”
Trent snorts. “That was easy enough. I found a receipt for some stupid gift basket in Susie’s purse.”
Myra’s mouth drops open. “You went through Susie’s purse?”
Trent shrugs nonchalantly. “She was off on one of her food jaunts, so I took advantage. She’s so predictable.”
“You, you invaded her privacy. I know for a fact she keeps her purse in her desk.”
“So?”
“You can’t just go through people’s private things like that.”
“She wouldn’t give me what I wanted so I had to take matters into my own hands. Besides, I did nothing wrong. I didn’t steal anything, and I returned it just as I found it.”
“You did steal. You stole my private information.”
Trent ignores her and stares at Dylan. “Who are you?”
From behind her, Myra hears what sounds like a growl and some mumbled curses coming from Dylan.
“I want you to leave,” Myra says.
Trent rolls his eyes. “I just traveled over two thousand miles. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me. That’s the least you can do.”
“Are you fucking deaf?” Dylan shouts over Myra’s shoulder. “She told you to leave. If you don’t get your ass moving immediately, I’ll remove it for you.”
Trent barks out a non-humorous laugh. “Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” He looks at Myra. “Who the hell is this joker?”
“He�
��s my friend,” she says.
Myra feels Dylan lean down next to her ear. “Do you want me to make him leave?” he asks in a low voice.
Trent crosses his arms stubbornly over his chest and cocks an eyebrow. “I’m not leaving.”
“Dylan, can I speak to you for a moment?” she asks in a calm voice, keeping her eyes on Trent.
A slow smug grin spreads on Trent’s face. She glares at him. “Stay here,” she hisses before she slams the door, leaving Trent on the front porch.
She turns towards Dylan, tugging on the sleeves of her sweater. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
“I can make him leave, if you want me to.”
She smiles softly at him. “I know. And thank you for offering. You’ve been so helpful to me lately. But this is something I have to do myself.”
He stares at her for a moment before he finally nods.
She clears her throat. “I know it’s rude to ask this, but could you stay until after he leaves? I…”
Dylan interrupts her. “Of course I’ll stay,” he says before he looks down at his watch. “I just need to make a phone call real quick.”
Myra looks down at the floor and chews on her thumbnail. Sabrina. He needs to call Sabrina. That thought makes Myra’s stomach clench.
“Where do you want me?” he asks.
She takes in a deep breath. “Could you just hang out in the kitchen? This won’t take long.”
He runs his hand over the back of his neck. “Okay. If you need me, just yell.”
Trying to convey her thankfulness through her eyes, she gives him a quick nod and watches the back of his tall frame as he walks towards the kitchen. Gathering as much resolve as she possibly can, she turns around and opens the door.
“You’ve got ten minutes,” she tells Trent.
He gives her a half-smile as he saunters through the door. “So this is Grampie’s house, huh?” he says as he looks around the room. “Pretty much how I pictured it.”
Myra sits on the edge of the couch, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Ten minutes,” she reminds him.
Trent walks to the fireplace and picks up a photo and stares at it. “Myra…” he says before he pauses dramatically and sets the photo back down. He continues to stare at the pictures on the mantle, keeping his back to her. “Have you ever made a decision that you thought was right at the time but then you realized later that you made a mistake? A mistake that you regret immensely?” He slowly turns around.
Myra shakes her head. “It’s too late.”
He takes his coat off and lays it on the recliner. “Don’t you believe in forgiveness? I’ve come here to ask you to forgive me. I made a mistake; I know that now.” He makes his way to the couch and sits down beside her. She quickly stands and positions herself by the fireplace.
“Julia started planting these ideas in my head. About you and Craig. At first, I totally dismissed it. But then she’d drag me out in the hallway when Craig was at your desk and I’d see you laughing with him and I started to wonder. She eventually had me convinced there was something going on with you two.”
Myra chews on her thumbnail as she shakes her head at him.
“I was working all those late nights with her and, well, you know the story. I thought I was in love with her. She’s an incredibly beautiful woman. One of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. It made me feel good that someone that incredible looking could be attracted to me.”
Myra’s eyes narrow.
Trent’s eyes widen. “Oh, not that you’re not beautiful; you just have a different look.”
“Why are you telling me this now? You’ve been with her for over a year now, and you’re going to have a baby for God’s sake.”
Trent rests his ankle on his knee and leans back against the couch. “Did you know you were the first person that she told about the pregnancy?” he asks. Myra doesn’t answer and stares at the floor. “I didn’t find out until later. I can’t tell you how pissed off I was. She told me it was an accident. Of course, I knew that was a lie. She did it to trap me.”
Myra walks to the recliner and moves his jacket and sits down.
“We’d been having problems, constantly fighting. I told her that we needed to take a break, and right after that, she suddenly turned up pregnant. I couldn’t believe it.”
Myra intently studies her cuticles.
“I told her I’d stay with her during the pregnancy and be a father to the baby but that the relationship was over. But she wouldn’t accept it. She kept threatening me, even threatened an abortion if I didn’t stay with her. That was when I started to understand what type of person she was. We had a huge fight and she admitted that she’d lied about you and Craig. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. But I decided I had to stay with her for the safety of the baby, but that after the baby was born, I’d try to get full custody.”
Myra looks up from studying her nails. “And what does this have to do with me?”
“Let me finish,” he says. “Things started falling apart with us right around the time you came back from Grampie’s funeral. I tried to talk to you. I wanted to tell you I was going to break up with her when you got back, but I knew you were grieving so it just wasn’t the right time. Then, right after that, I found out she was pregnant and you disappeared.”
Myra stares into the cold fireplace, pondering his words.
“I begged Susie to tell me where you were, but she refused. Then last week, Julia had a miscarriage.”
Myra looks at him.
“I was devastated. That was my child she was carrying. But as horrible as it was – and this is hard for me to admit – I was relieved. I felt free.
“She’s having a hard time dealing with losing the baby. She called in sick a few days but she refuses to tell anyone what happened so everyone still thinks she’s pregnant. I found an apartment so I’m moving out next weekend.”
Myra remains quiet. What does he expect her to say?
“Why did you move to Nyssa?” he asks.
Myra clears her throat and stares down at the floor. “Because I inherited this house so I figured I could save money on rent.”
“I want you to move back to Philly with me.”
Her mouth drops open. “What in the world would make you think that I’d ever take you back after what you did to me?”
“Everyone deserves forgiveness, and that’s what I’m asking for. I think I deserve a second chance. We had something special, and I know we can have that again.”
“You deserve it?” Myra lets out a dry laugh. “You cheated. It doesn’t matter what lies she fed you, you still cheated. You had a choice. I gave you everything and you just threw it away. You broke me…”
“I know I did, and I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you. We can make it work again.”
Myra shakes her head. “What you did to me, it changed me. I felt so worthless and humiliated. I felt like I had done something wrong. You don’t know how depressed I was…” She clears her throat, trying to keep the tears back. She won’t let him see one tear. “And then I had to watch the two of you every day at work. It hurt so much, but I was too frightened to do anything about it.”
“I understand. I know it was a bad situation, but we can work through this. Make it good again. Like it was before…”
Myra interrupts him, a look of surprise on her face. “You actually enjoyed having me there, didn’t you? You got to see me be miserable, pining away for you every day. That just fed your ego, didn’t it?”
“Of course not,” he scoffs.
Myra stands. “I want you to leave,” she says in a shaky voice. “I cannot believe you have the audacity to think for one second that I would ever take you back. I don’t ever want to see you again. Now get out of my house.”
She turns her head towards the kitchen and yells, “Dylan?”
* * *
Dylan hears Myra call his name just as he pulls his vibrating phone out of his pocket.
He
called Elaina earlier to let her know that he couldn’t make it to his appointment; when she didn’t answer, he left her a message. He ignores her return call and tucks his phone quickly back into his jeans.
He didn’t want to eavesdrop on Myra’s conversation with that prick so he hung around outside of her back door, close enough to hear her if she needed him. And he also desperately needed a smoke, or three.
Dylan drops his cigarette on the concrete step, stomps it out and flicks it into the bushes with the toe of his boot. He walks swiftly towards the living room.
He frowns when he sees the pale, drawn look on Myra’s face. “It’s time for him to leave,” she says to him. He nods at her before turning his attention to the ex.
“You heard the lady. Get your ass outta here. Now.” He narrows his eyes and gives the dick his fiercest expression.
Her ex picks up his coat and slips it on. “I can’t believe you,” he says as he looks at Myra. “I came all this way and laid everything out for you. I poured my heart out to you. You’re just an unforgiving bitch, aren’t you?”
Dylan’s hands automatically turn into fists. Nobody talks to Myra like that.
He hears her gasp as he catapults himself forward with his fist raised, ready to beat some sense into the sorry prick. But before he can connect to the face of the cocky jackass, Myra slips in front of him, her body pressing up against his, her hands on his chest.
“Dylan, don’t,” she says. He looks down into her wide, pleading eyes and slowly lowers his fist. “He’s not worth it.”
Dylan takes in a slow, deep breath as he focuses his gaze on the ex. The fire in his veins rages. He stays alert, ready to strike at any moment if necessary. With his fists still clenched, he looks back down at Myra and nods. She turns around. “Go,” she says.
The ex mumbles angrily under his breath before he stomps out the front door and slams it loudly.
* * *
Myra’s shoulders sag as she looks down at the floor.
“You okay?” Dylan asks as he takes a step towards her.
She nods still keeping her gaze downcast. She digs her fingernails deep into her palms to try to keep herself from crying, but her lower lip trembles and even though she fights it, a tear sneaks out and slips down her cheek.
Color of Loneliness Page 21
