“Because it’s true… you were completely exhausted, and you didn’t get into bed until late.”
Dylan mumbles a ‘fuck’ under his breath, sickened by how that must have sounded to Myra. “What else did you tell her?”
“I told her that I would tell you that she stopped by, and then she left.”
Dylan’s eyes narrow. “How did she find out you were my ex?”
“Oh,” Sabrina says, averting her gaze to the table. “She asked who I was before she left.”
“And what exactly did you say?”
Her eyes stay on the table. “I just introduced myself and told her that I was your ex-wife.”
Dylan studies her for a moment, wondering if that’s all there is to the story. He casually glances at Sabrina’s hands that cradle her coffee cup and his eyes widen when his gaze lands on her left hand. “Why the fuck are you still wearing that ring? I asked you to take it off yesterday.”
Sabrina holds her hand up and admires the ring, shrugging slightly. “I forgot.”
“Goddamn it,” he mumbles while closing his eyes and rubbing his temples, feeling like his head’s about to explode. He blows out a heavy breath. “So she came back…?”
Sabrina nods. “Yeah, I had just gotten comfortable on the couch when she started knocking again. She was really upset and demanded that I wake you up. I told her no and tried to get her to leave, but she’s a persistent little thing. She held her phone up in my face and threatened to send a cop friend of hers over with his siren blaring if I didn’t get you up. So I finally gave in and decided to wake you. I figured me waking you up was a lot better than a siren.”
Dylan has to bite his lip to suppress a grin. He can’t imagine Myra threatening Sabrina like that. “Is that all? Did you say anything else to her?”
Sabrina shakes her head.
“All right,” Dylan says, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Are you good to head on home now?”
“Yeah,” Sabrina says.
Dylan pushes away from the table and stands. He stares down at her for a moment. “I… I wanted to say I’m really glad that shit is, you know, going good for you.”
Sabrina stands and faces him. “Thanks. That means a lot,” she says with a small, sad smile on her lips. “Can I have a hug?”
Dylan nods as he awkwardly leans in to give her a half hug with one arm. She wraps both arms around his neck and hugs him tight before giving him a kiss on the cheek. She pulls back slightly, keeping her arms still wrapped around his neck. “Thank you for taking care of everything yesterday. I was so upset and such a mess – I didn’t know what to do. You were just wonderful. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Dylan nods pulling away from her embrace. “Keep doing what you’re doing because you look… you look really good. This is hard for me to say and shit but… I’m really proud of you.”
A beautiful smile crosses Sabrina’s face. “Thanks. I’m proud of myself too.” Reaching her hand out, she squeezes him lightly on the arm.
Her smile fades, a crease lining her forehead. She reaches up and touches his hair. “I’ve never seen your hair this long. You’re so different,” she says, her gaze moving up and down his frame, “… your hair, your clothes, this house… just everything. I have to say I’m a little worried about you.”
“You don’t have shit to worry about. I’m doing fine on my own. You just haven’t seen me in a long time.”
Sabrina stares at him for a moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yep,” he says quickly. He’s not been okay for a long time but he sure as hell isn’t going to let her know that.
Sabrina stares at him for a moment before she finally nods. “Well, now that I know where you live, would it be all right if I came to visit you some time?”
His face scrunches up. “Nah, I don’t think that would be—”
“Just as friends,” she says interrupting him. “We can still be friends, can’t we?”
“I don’t know…”
“Just think about it, okay?”
Dylan knows he can’t be friends with Sabrina. But the hopeful look in her eyes makes him feel guilty so he finally gives up and gives her a nod.
“Thanks,” she says with a small smile. “It was really good to see you.”
Dylan nods at her before turning and heading down the hallway to take a shower. He doesn’t look back.
* * *
With her coat still on, Myra slowly sinks down into her couch. She sits, unmoving, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. Everything is numb, but maybe that’s a good thing. There won’t be any more tears now; she’s done crying over men, at least for the moment.
Her gaze moves to the door. She stares at it for a while wondering what she’s going to do when Dylan knocks on it. Because right now she has no desire to ever open the door to that man ever again. Why should she? He slept with her, skipped out on her and ran off to do God knows what with his ex-wife.
His ex-wife.
Myra still can’t believe he was married. Why couldn’t he have told her that? It wouldn’t have mattered to her that he was divorced. But it sure matters now that he was hiding the fact. She can’t believe she actually thought something bad had happened to Sabrina. She feels like an idiot for feeling sorry for him.
Somehow she has let another man come into her life and crush her again. It’s like she’s a magnet for worthless men. She knew better than to get involved with Dylan. There were warning signs everywhere. The man was a total asshole to her from day one. And she saw almost immediately that he had serious anger and communication issues. So why didn’t she stop it? Why did she let herself be drawn to him? Why did she let her attraction for him override her common sense?
Drawing in a deep breath, she realizes that she has no answers to those questions. She has no idea why she let things go so far. But at least she can put a stop to it now. They were only together for one night. It’s not like she fell in love with him or anything… right?
Unable to deal with where her thoughts are leading, she stands keeping her eyes focused on the door and makes a decision. When he knocks again, she won’t be here.
Taking the stairs slowly, she pulls a suitcase out of the closet and starts packing. Dylan doesn’t deserve another chance. She gave him the opportunity to give her something – some type of explanation – when she confronted him. But she got nothing. She can’t bear the thought of hearing him make up excuses. She just wants to get as far away from this stupid town as she possibly can. Nothing has gone right since she moved back to this godforsaken place. It was a mistake for her to move here in the first place. It’s time to get away. She’ll go stay with Susie and clear her head. Do some thinking. And put some much-needed space between her and Dylan.
Her phone rings and she startles, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she blows out a breath when she sees Susie’s name. Susie will help her through this. She doesn’t know what she’d do without her.
“Hey,” she says.
“Myra?” Susie says before choking on a sob.
Her heart plummets to the pit of her stomach. “What’s wrong?” she asks, barely able to breathe.
Susie doesn’t answer; all Myra can hear are her tearful gasps.
“Susie? What’s going on? You’re scaring me,” she says, her heart practically pounding out of her chest.
“My… my dad... he… he’s gone, Myra. He’s gone.”
Tears instantly spring to Myra’s eyes as she collapses onto the bed. “What? Oh my god, Susie. What happened?” she asks breathlessly.
“He… he had… an aneurism,” Susie says in between sobs. “He’s gone.”
“Oh, no,” Myra says, a painful lump forming in her throat as tears begin to streak down her face. “I’ll catch the first flight out, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” Susie says in a small voice.
“I’ll call you when
I get everything figured out. I love you, Susie, I love you so much. I’ll be there soon.”
“I love you too.”
Myra hangs up and drops her face into her hands as a sob rips from her chest, her heart aching for her best friend. All the emotions that she went through when she lost her father hit her hard. But this isn’t her father. This is Susie’s father. She has to get it together and be there for her friend.
Quickly wiping her eyes, she gets herself together and pulls out her laptop. There’s a flight out of Boise that she can make if she hurries, so she quickly books it. Then she starts shoving things into her suitcase as fast as she can. Hauling it downstairs, she grabs her coat and slips it on. But when she gets to the door, she stops for a moment and looks back, staring at the worn furniture, the fireplace and the pictures on the mantle. Her eyes focus in on the picture of her Grampie and Jim. She smiles and whispers a soft, “Bye,” before closing the door after her.
With her head down, she makes a beeline for the garage, hoping and praying that Jackie isn’t around. She has to get to the airport and she’s definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone right now, especially her. Just as she reaches out and touches the doorknob to the garage, she hears Jackie’s voice calling her name. She cringes. What is Jackie doing, watching out the window for her? Closing her eyes, she takes in a deep breath.
“Where are you going?” Jackie asks. “Why do you have a suitcase? Are you taking a vacation? You didn’t mention anything about a vacation.”
“Philly. I’m going to Philly,” Myra says, turning towards her. “Susie’s father passed away.”
“What? Oh my god. What happened?”
“He had an aneurism.”
Jackie gasps. “Poor Susie… that’s terrible. I feel awful for her, just awful. She must be going through so much right now. I can’t even imagine losing my dad like that. It was bad enough losing my grandpa. Is there anything I can do for her? Does she need anything?”
“No, just some prayers.”
“Of course… of course, I’ll send up lots of prayers for her. Do you need anything? What about the house? Do you need me to get your mail or anything like that?”
Myra frowns. “Oh. Yeah. I totally forgot about the mail.”
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of it. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Myra stares at Jackie’s sincere expression for a moment and feels like a heel for not wanting to talk to her. Jackie has such a big heart. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. It’s really no problem.”
“Um, I do have something important to ask you…”
“Sure, anything… what do you need?”
“Well, it’s about… Dylan.” Just saying his name makes Myra’s insides hurt. “He, uh, he doesn’t know that I’m leaving town. And I don’t want him to know. So if he stops by and asks you where I am or what I’m doing, please don’t tell him anything, okay? I’m… well, I just don’t want him contacting me right now.”
“Absolutely,” Jackie readily agrees. “I won’t tell him a thing. What’s going on? Are you guys fighting? I thought everything was going really well with you two. Did you break up or something?”
Myra hates how her eyes fill up with tears. She doesn’t know how to answer Jackie because how can they be broken up when they were never really together to begin with? “We’re not together. He’s just, I don’t know. He’s not the person that I thought he was. He…” Myra stops to wipe her eyes.
“Myra, I’m so sorry,” Jackie says, touching her arm. “What did he do? Do you want to talk about it? I’m a really good listener.”
“No, not right now… I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone so I’ll just call you in a couple of days, okay?”
“Okay. Please tell Susie how truly sorry I am and that she’s in my thoughts and prayers,” Jackie says. “Tell her I miss her so much.”
Myra sniffs and wipes her eyes. “I will.”
* * *
After Dylan finishes shaving, he scrounges around in his bedroom trying to find something clean to wear. But dirty clothes are all he finds. He pulls on a pair of jeans he deems to be not too dirty by his standards; meaning they’re musty smelling but don’t have any large stains on them. He manages to find an extremely wrinkled but clean T-shirt and tugs it over his head.
Once dressed, he steps out into the hallway to make his way to the kitchen, but stops, worried that Sabrina might still be there. Listening for a moment, he hears nothing. But just to make sure, he steps back into the bedroom and looks out the window. Relieved to find her car gone, he walks into the kitchen and pokes around in the fridge to find something to eat.
After eating a quick bite, he drives the short distance to Myra’s house and is surprised to find that for the first time ever, he actually wants to talk. It’s time that he got all of this shit off of his chest. He doesn’t know how Myra’s going to respond to everything, but he hopes they can put all this shit behind them and move on. Go back to how things were between them.
Climbing the few steps of her porch, he knocks. Tucking his hands in the front of his jeans, he looks over at Jackie’s house while he waits.
Getting no answer, he frowns and knocks again.
Knocking a third time, he peers through the small window in the door but can’t see anything. Glancing at the windows, he finds that all of the curtains are drawn. Pulling out his phone, he dials her number; it goes straight to voicemail.
Walking over to her garage, his brows pull together when he sees that her car’s gone. He told her he was coming over, so where the hell is she?
Climbing back into his truck, he decides to wait on her. He smokes and listens to the radio for a while before he pulls out his phone and dials her number. Once again, it goes straight to voicemail. He drums his fingers on the center console as he contemplates what to do next. Flipping open his phone, he sends her a text.
Im at ur hse –D
Anxiously, he smokes another cigarette as he waits for her to respond. But she never does.
Another half hour goes by before he finally decides to go back home and wait for her to either call or text him. He drives home confused with an uneasy feeling brewing in his stomach.
* * *
After an uneventful flight, Myra’s plane finally lands. Staying seated, she pulls out her phone and turns it on. Her heart stutters when she sees Dylan’s missed calls and one text pop up. She pinches her eyes closed shut after she reads his text. Her heart hurts picturing him at her house, waiting on her. But she can’t dwell on that right now. She’s here for Susie. Susie needs her and that’s all that matters. Taking in a deep breath, she quickly sends Susie a text.
Just landed. I’ll catch a cab and be there soon. –M
A response almost immediately pops up.
Nonsense. Jeff’s there to pick you up. –S
Myra frowns. Jeff should be home with Susie; not running half-way across town wasting time picking her up.
You shouldn’t have. I love you –M
I love you too –S
Myra exits the plane and after picking up her luggage, she makes the long trek through the crowded airport to find Jeff waiting on her.
“Myra,” Jeff says with a grin on his face before grabbing her in a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“You too... how’s Susie?” she asks while Jeff places her luggage in the trunk.
“Not so good,” he says. “She’s having a tough time. It was just so sudden and came out of nowhere. I think she’s still in shock; it really hasn’t sunk in yet.”
Myra understands. She felt the same sense of shock for weeks, even months after her father was killed.
“What happened?” she asks as they get into the car. “She didn’t give me any details.”
“He got up early to go on his usual Saturday morning golfing jaunt with his buddies and took a shower. Lisa was downstairs making breakfast and
heard a loud thump so she went upstairs and that’s when she found him. He’d gotten out of the shower and had collapsed on the bathroom floor. She called an ambulance. But it was too late.”
Her throat tightens. “That… that must have been so hard on Lisa… How’s she doing?”
“She’s doing as well as can be expected. But Lisa’s a strong woman. I think she’ll be okay.”
Lisa, Susie’s mom, is one of the strongest women Myra’s ever met. She hopes Jeff is right about her.
“I’m glad you were able to come out here,” Jeff says, glancing over at her. “Susie really needs you right now.”
Myra nods at him then stares out the window at the familiar Philly landmarks. No matter what, she’s going to do everything she possibly can to help comfort her best friend. There will be no wallowing in self-pity over what happened with Dylan. Susie comes first right now, nothing else.
* * *
Dylan glares at the clock. It’s been hours and he hasn’t heard a single fucking word from Myra. Pacing around his living room, he angrily kicks clothes out of his way as he fists his phone in his hand. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he mumbles a ‘fuck it’ and flips open his phone and dials her number again. He wants to punch the shit out of something when it goes to voicemail.
He decides to leave a message and quickly clears his throat. “Myra, I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m really fucking worried about you. Where are you? I know you’re pissed at me and shit but I, well, I thought you were going to let me explain everything. Call me.”
Flipping his phone shut, he tucks it in his pocket and grabs his coat. He has to go check on her. She’s probably at home, ignoring his calls, but he has to do something. He can’t sit around here worrying otherwise he’s going to go fucking insane. Because if she’s not home… his stomach clenches as he runs a hand through his hair again. Just about every scenario possible has been going through his mind: Did her car break down? Did she get in an accident? Is she lying in a fucking ditch somewhere? Did she run into that Marshall fucker? If that piece of shit came anywhere near her, he’ll kick his goddamn ass into next week.
Color of Forgiveness Page 2
