“It’s me. Can I get you something for dinner?”
“No. Go away.”
“Okay, fine. I really want to talk though.”
“Go away, Freddy, or I’ll add harassment to my complaint to the partners.” In my mind, I’m already revising my plans. I’m not going to ask the firm to let me work from here—I’m going to give them notice outright.
Working at the same firm with Freddy will be impossible, because now he sees me as some golden ring to fight for. With my mother egging him on to “win me back,” I’m sure.
I have no interest in that or in him.
I finally hear a car start a moment later. When I look, I see him pulling out of the parking lot. I give it a couple of minutes and then bolt for my car with all my stuff while leaving the card key on the table in the room. I’ll call the front desk later and tell them I’m checked out. I don’t want them sending housekeeping out too soon and tipping him off that I’ve left.
Now I can get back to Tom.
I can finally gohome.
Chapter Thirteen
Tomas
I feel like I’m caught in a dream.
Fortunately, not a nightmare. Not anymore. I swing by the store first, just to make sure nothing’s caught fire or blown up while I’ve been gone. I ignore a few looks that mean there has been low-level chatter about me, reassure myself everything’s fine with the store, and get out again as quickly as possible without discussing my personal life at all.
Driving home, I think about how my world’s shifted on its axis over the past twenty-four hours.
Desi’shome.
He wantsme.
He wants meforever.
I shouldn’t get my hopes up this soon, right?
I mean, that’s stupid and reckless and…
He’s home.
Ireallywant to give him the benefit of the doubt, even though I asked him for time and he’s eagerly agreed to give it to me. As far as I know, he’s never lied to me. He says he wants to make things right between us.
Without hesitation, he agreed to every single one of my conditions without asking for any modifications.
Anattorney. Who doesn’t want to negotiate about something.
That sounds like a guy eager to make amends. Maybe it makes me stupid, but I’m willing to give him a chance.
Yes, that’s obviously my pain and loneliness talking. Except I’m beyond the point of caring about the reasons why I’m heavily leaning toward going with my gut and trusting him.
It feels good pulling into my driveway and hugging the left side of the pavement, like I always used to, leaving Des plenty of room to park next to me. It took me a long time after he left to start parking in the middle of the driveway. The first time I did, I cried, because I think I knew even then it meant he wasn’t coming home. Not for good.
Even the residual headache I feel from my overindulgence last night can’t dim my mood. There will be a lot of talking tonight, I’m certain. We can cook dinner together, snuggle on the couch, and then see what happens from there.
As much as I’d love to make love to him tonight, I’m not sure if my body will be into it after last night and the emotional turmoil of this afternoon’s discussion. I’m thirty-four, not twenty-four. It’ll be enough just to hold him, be held by him, and relish the comfort of his presence in my bed while I’m not too drunk to appreciate it.
I think about the rings, which are upstairs in my dresser drawer.
Does it make me hopelessly needy that I want to go put mine on right now?
