I pick up my pace and make it to my truck in record time.
Fuck him for trying to apologize. The time for that was fifteen years ago.
I knew letting him into my bed was a mistake.
I’ve shed so many tears, it’s pissing me off.
I’ve been in my workshop all night, and these damn tears are making things take twice as long. The good news is that the daybed I’ve been working on is finally done and I can deliver it in a couple of days.
The distraction has barely helped, and all I’ve thought about is our past.
How I always had a crush on Arlo. When he and Ledger were best friends in high school, I tagged along whenever I could, just to spend time with Arlo. Our senior year, we got closer but chose to keep it a secret because we didn’t want the attention or Ledger’s wrath, and it just kind of became the way we did things.
When Arlo went into the Marines, I realized quickly how much I loved him and wanted to be with him. We talked about our options, especially because he wouldn’t be stationary and I would only have privileges if we made things more permanent. Getting married felt like the perfect progression. So, when he was home from basic training, we went into Rosedale and got married at the courthouse. No one knew. We didn’t have a plan for how to tell people, so we just didn’t. We both figured we had time.
Then my parents died in the crash. He was overseas, and I was devastated. Instead of coming home and consoling me, two weeks later, he broke things off with me, saying the distance was too hard. Nothing more, nothing less. I signed the divorce papers he sent two months later and never looked back.
Of course, it took years to recover, but having to step in and help Ledger take care of Willow and Lennox helped. It made me realize that family is more important than anything, and I wouldn’t subject myself to putting my heart on the line ever again.
I’m not even sad he hasn’t given me a real reason as to why he randomly decided one day I wasn’t worth it. I’m fucking angry.
And then he has the audacity to try to talk to me about things now? Like a couple of orgasms negate all the hurt he caused. It’s insulting and, frankly, makes me happy this happened when it did. I can’t imagine if wehad been hooking up for longer than a week when shit hit the fan. My already pieced together heart would have never recovered.
This just reinforces the need to keep that organ locked up tighter than a bank vault.
I walk over to the table by the door and check my phone. Twenty plus texts from the family group chat feels overwhelming, so I swipe the notification away. I see a text from Arlo, and I’m so tempted to just delete it, but morbid curiosity tugs at my gut.
The Asshole:
One day, I would like to explain things to you. If you ever get to a point where you are open to hearing that, let me know. Otherwise, I’ll see you around, Marina.
Condescending asshole. He acts like I’m in the wrong here, and although I probably could have checked my emotions more, I’m not the bad guy. Poor Arlo; his ex-wife won’t hear him out after he proved to her that he is a selfish prick who only thinks about himself.
It sure doesn’t feel like much has changed in the last fifteen years.
I shut off my phone screen and tuck it into my back pocket before leaving my workshop and heading to the house.
Collapsing on my bed, I don’t even have the energy to change, which is a big deal. I always change out of my clothes after working because they’re covered in sawdust and wood stain. I’ll just add washing the sheets to my never-ending list of shit to do.
Sleep doesn’t come, even though I’m exhausted. Instead, thoughts of Arlo fill every recess of my brain.
Him holding my hands with a beautiful smile on his face as we said, “I do.” The sheer love on his face when we both thought we’d be togetherforever. The feeling of excitement for our future was so vast, I thought the best days were to come.
Then, the crushing hurt of not only losing my parents but my husband in the span of two weeks. Tears trail down my face as I revisit the black hole of my life. I rarely think about it because it’s so fucking painful. How does someone continue with their life when they lose their entire support system? Sure, Ledger has always been here for me, but he took on so much responsibility that my goal was to hide all of my hurt and not add more burden to him.
It became a way of life for me. I pushed all the pain and hurt down until I completely ignored them. And now it’s all rushing to the surface, and I’m unprepared for the pain of it all.
Burying my head into my pillow, I scream in agony. It physically hurts to dig up all these memories. I never wanted to relive any of this, and somehow, letting Arlo have my body again has turned into a broken dam.
I cry until the tears run dry and my eyes hurt so badly I can’t open them. And somewhere along the way, I fall into a fitful sleep.
I’m disoriented when I wake up, unsure of how long I slept for. The good news is I did get some sleep, so I feel semi-human again.
Except my entire face is swollen and tight from crying so hard. I swing my arm over to my nightstand and slap the surface in search of my phone.I knock over a tissue box and god knows what else, but I finally find it. Squinting as I turn it on, I see that it’s almost three in the afternoon.
Shit.I’m supposed to deliver a bed today. Luckily, I gave them a timeframe and said I would call them when I was on my way. It looks like I have just enough time to shower and attempt to turn myself into a real human again.
The drive to Rosedale is an easy one. Traffic is non-existent, and my head is blissfully blank. I decide to stop for a coffee, though, so I can feel less like a zombie and more like a business owner when I deliver this bed.
