“I thought it did. I still felt ugly back then. My confidence was nonexistent. And I was lonely.” Darcy looks up at me, giving me a thin, rueful smile. “It was easy for him to manipulate me, even though I didn’t realize until much later that’s what he was doing.”
“Darce.”
“I spent almost ten years with him,” she continues, her tone flattening. “Ten years of being told I was lucky to have found someone who would accept me. Ten years of subtle digs and reminders that I wasn’t normal. That no other man would ever consider being with me.”
Rage surges, and I spit, “That’s bullshit, Darcy. You’re just as normal as anyone else. And any man?—”
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t say that.
“I realized he was wrong. Eventually.” Her smile turns sad. “It took a while to work through everything, but I finally got a divorce two years ago. At first, I thought I’d stay in California; I had friends, my job… but he wouldn’t leave me alone. And my mom’s house was just sitting here, vacant. So I decided to move here. Start over again.”
The hand in my chest gives another painful wrench. So many miscommunications. So many missed chances. So much time lost.
“I’m so sorry, Mike.” Tears escape, trickling down her cheeks. “I screwed it all up. It was all me. And I have to live with that.”
As I look into the eyes of the only woman I’ve ever truly loved, I feel as if I’m perched on a precipice.
One choice takes me back down to solid ground; to a cordial relationship with Darcy where we wave hi in town and exchange meaningly conversation about the weather how each others’ jobs are going.
The other is a leap into an uncertain future, where I could end up hurt by Darcy all over again.
Or.
Just maybe, we could come back together again.
Maybe we could get a second chance.
“I wonder if the tow truck is here,” Darcy says. She jumps up from the couch, wobbling only a little. “I’ll just go check?—”
“Darce.” Standing, I catch her hand again. “Wait.”
“What?”
“We were both so young back then. We both made mistakes. I could have tried harder to get you to explain. To talk to you face-to-face instead of over the phone. But I was embarrassed. Hurt. So I didn’t. And that’s onme.”
“Still. If I’d only told you…”
“Maybe. But we’re here now. And?—”
Ofcourse, as it always seems to do at the most inopportune moments, my phone rings.
Darcy startles. Drops my hand. Her gaze flickers towards the window. “It’s probably the tow truck.”
And after a ten second conversation, her guess is affirmed. “Yeah. They’re outside now. I should probably get out there.”
“Do you want me to come help? Bring a flashlight? Or…”
The thought of Darcy struggling through the snow again, her features etched with pain, has me saying quickly, “No, no. Stay inside. I’ll take care of it.”
She nods. “Okay. Are you going to get a ride with the tow truck driver? Or… I could try to clear the driveway and give you a ride home later? If you wanted to stay and talk?”
The hope in her eyes is almost my undoing. And before I can rethink it, I pull Darcy into my arms.
Andoh.
Holding her feels like coming home.
“I’ll come back,” I tell her. “Maybe we can have that coffee?”
