“Nick,” I whispered, unable to stop myself.
He didn’t turn around. He didn’t acknowledge me. He stood near the doors, his finger retracting from the buttons. “You forgot to push for the floor.”
I nibbled my bottom lip and shook myself. I was a mess.
“Thanks,” I mumbled weakly.
The elevator started with a jerk and began the ascent to the eleventh floor. I held my breath for as long as I could, then let it out with a forced puff of air.
I watched Nick’s back with fascinated awe, wondering how to engage him. His spine was absolutely straight. His shoulders were taut with tension and from the view of his profile that he gave me I could see his jaw flex and release.
He was dressed nicely again, gray slacks and a light blue oxford with a stylish gray vest that made the outfit look expensive and tailored. Maybe it was expensive and tailored. His hair had been styled back from his face. He wore the watch I bought him two Christmases ago. His shoes were shiny.
Oh, my god, who was this man?
My heart thumped painfully.
“Annie’s better,” I blurted.
He turned his head slightly, still not looking at me. “Your dad called me.”
“Oh.” My parents were traitors. So was my dog.
So was my heart.
The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. Gripped by fear and doubt, I grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled him to a stop.
“Wait,” I pleaded.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t even turn his head. “I want this over, Kate. I want it finished.”
I let go of his wrist and he shifted his shoulders, adjusting his shirt without physically tugging it into place. He walked out of the elevator with purpose, striding straight for the conference room.
Mr. Cavanaugh waited for me in the greeting area again. His expression read concern and maybe something else… maybe something like pity.
“Ms. Carter,” he nodded when I finally found the courage to step out of the elevator.
“Hi, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
His voice gentled and he asked, “Are you all right?”
I swallowed thickly and looked at the hallway where Nick had disappeared, “Is anyone ever all right during these things?”
He chuckled at my candor. “No, Ms. Carter. They are not.” We had stood there for another moment before he gestured toward the conference room. “Should we go get settled?”
I didn’t verbally respond, but I did follow after him- a feat I didn’t think I was capable of.
Nick stood in the corner of the cool room, in a quiet discussion with his lawyer. They both flicked glances our way when we entered the room, but that was it. Just a glance of bitter acknowledgment that I had entered into his space. That was all I got.
I sat down in one of the rolling leather chairs and tried not to let self-pity swallow me whole. I straightened my spine and masked my expression with false bravado. I would not let him see me ruffled.
This man had been in my bed three nights ago. This man had held me all night long. He had wrapped his arms around me like he never wanted to let go and fought with me the next morning when I suggested that what we did was a mistake.
He wasn’t indifferent to me. He was the opposite of that.
I held on to that small portion of hope. I clung to it. I couldn’t sit here and enter into this discussion if I really thought Nick hated me.
When had that changed?
I reached for the cold bottle of water that had been set out for me and took a shaking sip.
Nick took a seat across from me and his lawyer followed. Marty Furbish walked into the room and took a seat at the head of the table. Ryan made an announcement reminding us where the restrooms were and that we should ask if we needed anything, but I barely heard anything he said.
When we were finally settled, Nick leveled me with a steely gaze and said with finality, “I want this finished today. Whatever it takes… however long it takes… I want this to be done.”
The lawyers looked at me next. I forced words from my lips. Words I wasn’t sure I felt. “Me, too.”
Marty let out a pleased sigh. Mr. Cavanaugh relaxed just barely, but I felt it next to me. He wanted this over as much as I did.
“Good,” Ryan Templeton nodded. “Now, if we can all apply a little give and take, we can finish this part and move on to the next. You’ll be divorced before you know it.” His smile was meant to ease the tension in the room. But it did the opposite.
I felt a panic attack slide over my skin, squeezing my lungs and blurring my vision.
I thought we were here because we couldn’t stand each other? I thought that was the whole point of it?
So why did it feel like my heart had been shredded? Why couldn’t I breathe? This wasn’t like before when the sorrow of our failed marriage had weighed so heavily on me. This new pain pressed me into the earth… threatened to bury me alive.
This was worse somehow. This felt like I would never be able to catch my breath again. This felt like endless drowning and an emptiness so vast I would be forever lost in it.
Somehow I had stopped worrying about how much we’d hurt each other in the past and started worrying about how much we would hurt without each other in the future.
A few months ago, I couldn’t imagine living my life in the same pattern of crazy we had been stuck in. And now I couldn’t imagine my life without this man in it.
What was I doing?
Was I making the biggest mistake of my life?
Yes.
Yes.
I had asked myself that question countless times over the last several months, but I finally had an answer.
Yes.
A loud, resounding yes.
This was the biggest mistake of my life.
My lips were too dry. My mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton balls. My throat was prickly and sore. But I couldn’t drink enough water.
I couldn’t quench this thirst.
My hands trembled badly, but there was nothing to calm my nerves.
I finally realized that I wanted to fight for my marriage and it was too late. I had finally realized that this man was everything to me. Even with his faults and flawed humanity. Even with our rocky history and hurtful past. This man, my husband, was my life. He was everything to me. He was my past and present. He was my future. He was my heart. My very soul.
But we had already announced our divorce to every person we knew.
He had moved out.
He’d gotten a new life.
We’d hired lawyers.
We were smack dab in the middle of mediation.
I had to go through with this. I had already made the decision. I just had to buck up and go through with it.
These were my consequences to pay. I had made this bed, now I needed to lay in it.
Forever.
Forever and ever and ever, amen.
Oh, damn.
Oh, shit.
Shit shit shit.
“She can have it all.” I heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. Nick kept talking. “The house, the dog. Whatever she wants, she can have it.”
“Nick,” his lawyer spit out. “I would recommend rethinking your position-”
“I don’t want it,” he growled. “I don’t want any of it.”
Tears filled my eyes. “But I do.”
I made a new decision. I decided it didn’t matter what we had done or who knew about the divorce or what anybody else in the entire world thought.
I could not let this man go.
I could not.
“Yeah, we know,” Ryan spit out rather unprofessionally. “That’s why you’re getting it.”
I jerked my chin and a lone tear escaped, rolling down my cheek. “No, that’s not what I mean. I don’t just want the house and the dog or the things. I want everything, Nick. I want… I want you.”
Looking at him across the table, I realized something so vitally important that it knocked every last breath
out of me. I didn’t want a divorce because I didn’t love him anymore. I had never stopped loving him. Against all reason, against every valid argument I’d made against him and our marriage… I loved him.
His entire body reacted with my words. He sat back in his chair with a swift pull of motion. His head cocked back and his blue eyes flashed with something strong and piercing. “What?”
“I surrender,” I whispered raggedly. Whatever courage I had left, I gathered quickly to hold his furious glare.
“Kate.” His whisper was agonized, full of conflict and turmoil.
I struggled to swallow and smooth out my trembling voice. It didn’t help. “I surrender, Nick. To this.” I waved my hand between us. “To us. To you.”
Just as abruptly as he had leaned back, he shot forward and placed one palm on the shiny conference table. “You’re doing this now?”
Fear boiled inside me, superheating my insides, making me feel wobbly and off balance. But I had to get this out. I had to say this or I would hate myself for the rest of my life. “I don’t want a divorce.”
Mr. Cavanaugh jumped in, hoping to rescue me. “Ms. Carter, I think you should take a minute to think about this.”
I shook my head, acknowledging him, but not wanting to waste time to address him. “Nick, I was wrong. I was so wrong.”
“You can’t do this now.” He sounded pained, shocked and beyond confused. “Just the other night-”
“I’m not asking anything from you. I… I don’t even really know if I want anything from you. I just… I just can’t do this. I can’t go through with this. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” His words were a punch through the air.
Confusion roiled through me and I thought I would be sick. More tears spilled over and a shuddering sob racked my chest. I fumbled for my purse somewhere on the floor.
“For what?” Nick demanded. He stood up. His voice grew louder, commanding, desperate. “Katie, for what?”
I glanced wildly around the room, my eyes bouncing from his lawyer to mine, then out the window at the traffic far below.
“For this,” I whispered. “For all of it. For everything.”
Nick fell back in his chair, defeated and out of breath. I was his opposite- like usual. I jumped to my feet and for the second time since we began mediation, I fled the room.
I nodded once to Ryan Templeton, then turned to Mr. Cavanaugh. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
My feet stumbled over themselves as I raced out of the room. I needed fresh air. I needed to find a dark place so I could curl into the fetal position and rock myself into a stupor.
I needed so much tequila.
Like all the tequila.
A hand caught me just as I reached the elevator. For a fast second, my lungs filled with breath and hope zinged through me. But when I turned around and found that it was Mr. Cavanaugh and not Nick, my entire spirit crumpled.
“Ms. Carter… Kate, are you sure about this? Are you sure this is what you want? Because if you leave today, we are basically giving up our position. It will be much harder to argue in your favor.”
“I’m so sorry,” I sniffled. “But I’m sure. I’m positive. I can’t… I can’t do this.”
“Well, if you’re sure.”
“I am.”
His expression softened and some of his frightened concern receded. “If it helps any, I don’t think he wanted the divorce any more than you did.”
I shrugged helplessly. My chin trembled too violently for me to respond. I didn’t know if it helped or not. I didn’t know if it was true or not. I didn’t know what to say.
Seeing that I couldn’t speak anymore, he patted my shoulder with his hand and gave me a sad smile. “Good luck, Kate. I hope it works out for you.”
“Me too,” I whispered, even while I knew I didn’t deserve for it to work out. Even while I knew it probably wouldn’t.
I stepped into the elevator and he let me go down alone. I was thankful for that. I was thankful for him. As far as divorce lawyers went, he was one of the good ones.
Not that I knew very many.
The elevator doors closed behind me and took me to the ground floor. I left the building, walked to my car and got inside.
I drove home. I walked inside my house. I collapsed on my couch and I started to cry.
I didn’t stop for a very long time.
Nick never came after me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
31. I love him.
My mom called later in the day. She wanted to know how mediation went. She wanted me to get the dog.
I didn’t want to move for the next forty years.
“How did it go?” she asked impatiently.
“Not well.”
“Are you divorced?” Her tone was panicked and concerned. She rarely sounded panicked or concerned. “Is it final?”
I sniffled. “No. No, it’s not final.” I didn’t explain to her that we couldn’t have finalized it in mediation. That there were more steps to it than this. It didn’t matter now because if I had any say about it, I would never take those steps. Nick would have to go on living his life forever anchored to me. I would be the ball and chain that never let him move on.
He’d have to become a polygamist if he wanted to get married again.
Oh, god, what if he wanted to get married again?
I collapsed back to my side and let out a high-pitched whimper. “Kate? Katherine? What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I couldn’t go through with it,” I cried.
“Go through with what?” Her patience had run out. She had started shrieking.
“The divorce, Mom! I couldn’t go through with the divorce!”
“Oh.” Her tone evened out and she sounded obnoxiously pleased. “Well, that’s a good thing.”
I started crying harder. It wasn’t a good thing if Nick still wanted one.
“Oh, Kate,” she sighed. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to work out.”
She had never said that before. Not once since I told her Nick and I were going to end things.
“How do you know?” I croaked.
“Because you love each other. Because you went through some hard times, but you’ve never stopped loving each other.”
Ladies and gentlemen, my mother, the closet romantic.
I propped myself up on my elbow. Some of my tears dried and I took a steadying breath. “He didn’t say he didn’t want to end the divorce. He might still want one.”
“He doesn’t,” she said confidently.
“How do you know?”
She sighed again, only this time I could hear the smile in her voice. “Because he’s a good man, honey. He’s a good man that loves you.”
“I thought you hated him?”
“Katherine Claire, I am your mother. I always want what’s best for you. I suppose we were a little harsh with Nick because… well, because I didn’t think he was giving you the life you deserved. But when you left him, I realized I was wrong.” She cleared her throat while my entire world tipped on its axis. Did my mother just say she was wrong? Had I prayed a little too hard for that zombie apocalypse? “In comparison to your life of loneliness, he was the best thing for you. No matter what his profession.”
I let the passive aggressive digs slide and said honestly, “Thanks, mom.”
“I love you, Kate.”
“I love you too.” I sat up fully and added, “I can’t come to dinner every Sunday though. It’s too much. I love you and dad, but I can only make it once a month.”
“Twice.”
“What?”
“Come twice a month and I won’t bug you about it again.”
“Okay,” I laughed. “I’ll come twice.”
“We can keep the dog another night, too. Your father has grown really attached. I think I’m going to have to buy him one by the end of it.”
I blamed my heartbroken exhaustion, but nothing she was saying was making sense.
“Buy him what?”
“A dog,” she muttered. “Like this one. I might have to hit it with my car too just so he can feel needed.”
“Who?”
“Your father, Kate. Keep up! He won’t watch TV anymore unless the dog is curled up on his lap. It’s ridiculous. You should see the way he babies it! You’ll help me find the right breed, won’t you?”
Feeling sufficiently exhausted and completely weirded out, I nodded. Then I realized she couldn’t see me and so I said, “Oh, okay. If you think he really wants one.”
My dad had never loved anything in his life. Not even me! Okay, that wasn’t true. But small animals were definitely not on his short list. They ranked right under traffic for things he could not tolerate.
I couldn’t picture him cuddled up with Annie.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to picture him cuddled up with Annie.
“Alright, get some sleep. Your dad will bring the dog back to you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, mom.”
She clicked off and I dropped my phone on the cushion beside me. That was the most bizarre conversation I had ever had with my mother.
It beat the birds and the bees talk she tried to have with me when I was fourteen.
It had been too late by that point. I went to public school and there was this thing called TV.
I knew everything I needed to know.
I figured the logistics out later. As God and my sanity intended.
I felt oddly at peace then. Everything wasn’t quite so dismal. My mom believed Nick still loved me, so that had to mean something, right?
That peace carried me through the rest of the day and eventually I was able to get up off the couch and at least change clothes.
I stripped off my pencil skirt and blouse and replaced it with yoga pants and a racerback tank. They were workout clothes, but I was not planning on working out.
Unless one considered inhaling a couple gallons of ice cream working out.
But mostly I needed the clothes for their stretchiness.
I walked down the stairs, anxious to get started on my ice cream marathon when I saw him. The sight of him there, in the entryway, standing so tall and looking so beautiful, nearly made me face plant down the remaining four stairs.
I caught myself on the railing, but my stomach took the tumble anyway.
Every Wrong Reason Page 26
