by Karen Cimms
I sat up, snagged the small, dark blue box from the back of the top dresser drawer, and popped it open. The rings sparkled and winked as if they were happy to see me.
I’d lost so much weight that when I slid them over my finger, the stone tipped toward my pinky. Lying back against the pillows, I held up my hand. The diamonds shimmered in the dull gray light—such a beautiful ring. How could I have thought of selling it? Today, I would wear the rings that symbolized the greatest love I’d ever know, and for a few hours, at least, I could make believe. Then tonight, I’ll put them away, and someday, when Zac finds a girl to love, I’ll give them to him.
A cool stream of tears snaked its way into my ear. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
I slid under the covers and tried to think of anything but what was happening across town, but it was impossible. How were Zac and Izzy coping? What would it be like for them if I were the one getting married? I curled up into a ball on my side. I couldn’t picture it. The thought of spending my life with someone other than Chase seemed as improbable as picking up the phone and calling my father in heaven.
I’d been convinced that my heart was broken when Chase left, but I had been wrong. It was breaking now, splitting slowly, agonizingly down the middle. It became difficult to breathe. I was adrift, powerless to change the events that would destroy me. Dragged under by the weight of memories I had once cherished, I toyed with the notion of driving to the church and declaring myself to Chase and anyone who would listen. The only thing that stopped me was the total humiliation I would have heaped upon my children.
It was nearly eleven. I grabbed that bottle of wine from the refrigerator and began to fill the too-large tub—the one Chase had installed for us to use together. I sank into the searing heat up to my ears and covered my face with a wet cloth, hoping to soothe my burning eyes and pounding head.
The illusion of slipping into a vacuum was welcome, and I sank further until the only thing exposed was my nose. How easy would it be to keep going? Until there was nothing? No sound. No light. No breath. No hurt. Would some survival instinct kick in? If so, why hadn’t it already reared up to help me move past this? On one side lay the scattered pieces of my heart. On the other—nothing. If it hadn’t been for Zac and Izzy, the choice might have been much easier to make.
I don’t know how long I lay submerged, contemplating the unthinkable. The water grew cold. I raised the lever for the drain with my big toe and let some of the water escape, then turned on the hot water and let it run until my skin burned.
A loud thump startled me from the delicious discomfort. Water sloshed onto the floor. I turned the faucet off, certain my state of mind and half a bottle of wine were causing me to imagine things. I waited. Silence. I turned the water back on.
Thump. Thump thump thump thump thump. Someone was pounding on the front door.
Groaning, I sunk back down into the water. They could pound all they want. I wasn’t answering. But when the noise didn’t stop, I clambered from the tub, snatched my robe from the back of the door, and stalked into the living room.
My feet came to a full stop along with my heart when I glimpsed Chase’s new truck in the driveway.
I tore my eyes away and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror near the door. Long, wet strands of hair clung to my neck and shoulders, and the only color in my face were the lavender smudges of sleeplessness beneath my eyes and two bright red circles on my cheeks from the temperature of the water.
I rushed for the door, convinced either Zac or Izzy had some sort of meltdown and had refused to sit through the wedding. But when I opened the door, Chase was alone, and although he had been knocking only moments before, he seemed almost surprised to see me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my voice barely audible. “Where are the kids?”
He glanced over his shoulder at the truck. For one horrid second, I thought Callie might be sitting there waiting for him. But it was empty.
“They’re fine.” He looked awful, as if he hadn’t slept in days, and I wondered if the broken ribs were still giving him a lot of pain. “I’m sorry. I guess I got you out of the tub.”
I nodded.
“I—I won’t keep you.”
“Are you okay?” I opened the door wider, and cold air rushed in around my damp legs.
He dragged a hand over his face. “I have to ask you something, and I need you to promise you’ll answer honestly.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “Chase, what is this—”
“Please. Just do this for me.”
I wanted to point out that I didn’t owe him anything, not after he’d shredded my heart to ribbons, but I couldn’t. I wanted to soothe whatever was upsetting him this much, but it was no longer my place.
“Okay. What is it?”
The seconds ticked by before he finally spoke. “Do you still love me?”
My hand rose to my chest and gripped my robe closed. “What?”
“Do you still love me?”
“Is this a joke?”
Lines formed between his eyebrows as they drew together. “Of course not.”
How could he? I was sick of being the butt of everyone’s jokes. “What’s the point? Are you trying to torture me? You have a bet you need to win?”
“God no,” he said softly. “I just need to know. I’m begging you to answer me honestly. Do you still love me?”
Being honest with him would lay myself wide open. But it might also be the last chance I ever got to tell him.
He rushed into my silence. “Maybe this will be easier: on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most, do you still love me, and if so, how much?”
I flinched.
“Or a scale of zero to ten,” he added quickly. “I would deserve that.”
I shifted my weight and clutched harder at the neck of my robe, still unable to speak.
He forced a pained smile. “Maybe this was a bad idea. I’m sorry, Rain. I’m sorry for—”
“Ten.” My throat was so tight, I hardly heard it myself.
He stopped moving.
“Ten.” I said it louder. “That’s the most, right?”
It seemed as if he was trying to nod, but his head hardly moved.
“Then definitely ten. Although that doesn’t come close to how much I love you. Ten million. Even that isn’t close enough.”
The look on his face tore at my heart.
“Chase, what’s going on? Do you want to come in?” I stepped back.
“No. I mean, I do, but it wouldn’t be right.” He wiped angrily at his eyes as a gust of wind lifted the hem of my robe and made me shiver. “I should go. You’re gonna get sick.”
But he made no move to leave. He continued standing in front of me, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.
I tried to keep my teeth from chattering. Or was that my heart repeatedly slamming up against my ribs? “I’ve just told you I love you. I think you need to tell me why you needed to know that.”
His eyes rolled upward. “Oh god, I’ve been such an idiot.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and the memory of my lips pressed against that exact spot pierced what was left of my composure. Where was he going with all of this?
He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me for what I’ve put you through.”
Blood pounded in my ears, and the room suddenly felt as if it had shifted beneath me.
“Aren’t you getting married today?”
He shook his head. “No.” A thousand butterflies took flight in my chest at the same time, their wings beating against my ribs, my heart, my lungs. I grabbed the doorknob, needing something to hold on to.
“I told Callie early this morning. I’ve known from the beginning it was wrong. I tried to convince myself I could learn to love her, but all I was doing was trying to find a way to keep from loving you. It took me too long to realize that’s impossible.”
“But why?” The words b
urst forth in an angry sob.
“Because I’m an ass. If I could take back this whole last year, I would. I love you. I’ve always loved you. Somehow I convinced myself that you didn’t love me.”
The floor shifted again and my legs turned to rubber. I lost my hold on the door, and before I could stop myself, I was on the floor.
Chase stepped inside and dropped to his knees, cupping my face in his cold, calloused hands. Warm lips kissed my cheeks and my forehead and he swore over and over that he was sorry.
I clung to his arms. The soft, buttery leather of his jacket pained me as I realized Callie had probably bought this for him.
I closed my eyes and tried not to think about what could have been, only what was happening now: me, crouched on the floor in nothing but a thin robe as Chase traced my face with his lips and murmured my name.
“C’mon, you’re freezing.” He helped me to my feet, closed the door, and led me to the couch. “Why don’t you go put on something warmer? I’ll wait.”
I didn’t want to walk away for one second, but I needed a moment to catch my breath. “I’ll be right back. Do you want some tea? Coffee, maybe?”
“I’ll do it.” For a moment I thought he might smile, but he didn’t. “You go get dressed.”
I closed the bedroom door behind me, then leaned against it and took several deep breaths. Chase wasn’t marrying Callie Stankevich today. He still loved me. He said he was sorry. And yet more than a year had gone by, a year in which I asked myself why every single day, never coming up with any answers.
I slipped into a pair of jeans, then pulled on some heavy socks and tugged a heavy turtleneck over my head. I wasn’t the one who needed to answer the question of why. Chase was.
The aroma of fresh coffee brought back Sunday mornings and chocolate chip pancakes, but when I got to the kitchen, it was empty. So was the living room.
The front door stood open, and I approached it slowly, afraid to find Chase’s truck gone. When I heard voices, I inched forward until I was able to see out the window. Dylan’s truck sat parked behind Chase’s.
“You look like hell,” Dylan said.
“Good. Because I feel even worse,” Chase answered.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“What I should’ve done a year ago. Begging my wife to forgive me.”
“She’s not your wife anymore.”
Unable to hear Chase’s response, I moved closer, certain Dylan wouldn’t be able to see me through the lace curtain.
“Look, I just wanted to make sure you were all right. I drove by your place, but then I had a feeling I might find you here.”
“Doesn’t that tell you something?” Before Dylan could answer, Chase continued. “You make a crude remark, I swear to god I’ll break your fucking neck.”
“I wasn’t going to. Jesus, Chase, if this is what you wanted, why’d it take you so long to figure it out? You’ve hurt a lot of people, you know that? Not to mention, Lorraine might just outright kill you.”
“I know. What I did to Callie today—it’s inexcusable. I shouldn’t have waited so long. But what I’ve done to Rain …”
Dylan jammed his hands in his pockets, looking so much like his brother at that moment. “You haven’t been happy in a long time. I can see that. I just hope you’re doing the right thing. I just want you to know, whatever you decide, I’ve got your back this time. I mean it.”
He raised his arms, and Chase stepped into them. Dylan clapped him on the back. “I’m gonna go home now and tell my wife that I found you and tried to talk some sense into you, but you had already made up your mind.”
“Fine.”
“Good luck.” He paused and his eyes scanned the house. “Tell Rain I said I’m sorry.”
“That’s something you need to do for yourself. You owe her that. You all do.”
Discomfort crossed Dylan’s face, but then he nodded. “You’re right.”
I bolted into the kitchen, pulled out two mugs, and set them on the table. I was getting the creamer out of the refrigerator when Chase joined me. He slid out the chair at the head of the table and sat.
“That was Dylan.”
I nodded.
“He was just checking up on me.”
I poured us each a cup of coffee.
“So if you postponed the wedding, where are the kids?”
“Not postponed—canceled. The kids are with your mother. I went to see them, and I told them what happened. I don’t think they were very upset.” He grimaced. “I told your mother I wanted to come by and see you. She said for you to call her later.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t deck you,” I muttered.
“No, but I thought Diane would.”
“You saw Diane?”
“She accosted me in my driveway earlier. Called me stubborn and pigheaded. And an asshole.”
There was nothing funny about what was happening, but I found myself chewing my lip to keep from smiling. God, I loved that girl.
His expression grew even more serious. “She also told me that you still loved me.”
I mumbled something—I don’t even know what it was—poured creamer into my coffee and sat, not in the seat where I normally sat, closest to him, but at the other end of the table. It didn’t go unnoticed, but he didn’t comment.
Steam rose from the mug. He cupped his hands around it, closing his eyes and breathing in the aroma. When he looked up, the sadness in his eyes was great. “I’m not really sure where to begin. I broke somebody’s heart today. I never loved Callie, but I thought if I could just get over you, that maybe some day, I might. Over the past couple weeks, I’ve realized I may never get over you. It wasn’t fair to her, so I called it off.”
A flood of emotions spun through me: joy, pain, anger, jealousy. I felt them all at once, as if some kind of sick circus had exploded in my head.
“I owe you a lot of explanations and apologies—and I’ll get to that, I promise—but as much as I want to be with you right now, I can’t. I can’t walk out on one woman in the morning and then have the nerve to be happy with another that night, no matter how much I love you and you say you love me. It’s not fair.”
For as much as I wanted to crawl into his lap and beg him to stay, I understood, and for as much as I blamed Callie for pushing him, there was a part of me that felt sorry for her.
“I understand.”
He pushed his mug back. “I’m going away a few days. I need to be alone, figure some things out. I have a lot of thinking to do.”
As we stood, he picked up my hand and closed his fingers over my wedding and engagement rings, which I’d forgotten I was still wearing. “In the meantime, can I have these?”
I wanted to tell him no, that he couldn’t, but I just nodded and slid them off. He slipped the wedding band into his pocket and then held the engagement ring to the tip of my finger. “I’d be honored if you’d wear this again. I know it’s asking a lot after what I’ve put you through. Have faith in me, that’s all I ask. Let me believe we’re still connected.”
I blinked fiercely, trying to keep the tears from falling as he slipped the ring onto my finger.
“And this one,” he said, patting his shirt pocket, “I hope you’ll allow me to put back where it belongs soon.”
He gave me a sad smile, then looked around the kitchen as if seeing it for the first time. My Chase had been a strong, solid man, not overly emotional or sentimental. The man standing before me was broken.
I grabbed his hands and guided them around my waist. He didn’t pull away, and he didn’t resist when I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Just remember, wherever you’re going, I love you,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his ear.
I watched him drive away, then I pinched myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming.
Chapter Fifty-Six
I checked into the Grand Hotel in Cape May, and for two days straight, I did little more than sleep. My body and mind weren’t ready
to process any of this, so they just shut down. Now and then, when I awoke, I ventured down to the bar for food I barely ate and beer I barely drank. It could have been much worse. I could have spent all of that time drinking, which given what I’d put us all through didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
But instead of anesthetizing myself, I slept, and when I wasn’t asleep, I stayed sober. I wanted to feel my pain. I deserved to feel it. Not that the past year had been easy on me—it hadn’t—but I’d caused so much pain, something that wouldn’t have happened had I kept a clear head and listened to my heart instead of my mother, my brother, and the bitch he’d married.
What I’d done to Callie was bad, but although it was hardly an excuse, I hadn’t been thinking clearly. But when I considered what I’d done to Rain, to the woman I loved more than anything in this world, it was a miracle I didn’t climb out of bed and walk straight into the ocean.
When I woke up on the third day, I was no longer tired. I flicked on the bedside lamp. It was a little after six. I had just under an hour, and according to the weather app on my phone, the skies would be clear and perfect.
I tugged on a pair of jeans and a thick sweater, grabbed my jacket and headed for the parking lot. Equipped with an extra-large coffee from the small market on the corner, I drove the few miles to the lighthouse.
It was still dark when I pulled into the parking space closest to the beach walkway. I kept the engine running and sipped my coffee while scrolling through the messages I’d ignored for the past three days. There were two from Mom, the first demanding to know if I’d lost my mind and the second, more contrite, asking if I was okay. I sent her a quick response not to worry, that I was fine. As an afterthought, I added that my mind, for the first time in a long time, was very much intact.
There were a couple of messages from Dylan and two missed calls from Callie. I’d said everything I needed to say to Callie when I called off the wedding. You could only say you’re sorry so many times, and I had. More repetitions wouldn’t change a thing, nor would anything she could say to me change my mind. With remorse, I deleted both messages.
