“Don’t! Don’t you dare call me that, Arlo! You lost that right, and you will never have it again,” she all but screams, shoving me away from her.
“I’m sorry—”
“No. No more apologies. I can’t do this anymore.” Her whispered statement is followed by the tears finally falling, and I feel like the biggest asshole alive.
“I fucked up. I shouldn’t have come here and crashed your date. And this… I shouldn’t have done this either,” I try to explain.
Her more forceful shove makes me step back.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she cries. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone, like you have been since you came back? Why now?”
I can feel the pain in her words, and I know nothing I say will help. But I need to try. I can’t leave things like we did at the falls.
“In the hospital, I couldn’t just sit by and watch you go through that. I had to go to you. What happened after was not intended, and I know we agreed to just sex, but it’s never that with you for me. I can’t keep things to just sex between us. I can’t watch you go out on a date knowing it should be me. I’m not claiming to be making good decisions becauseI know I’m not. Hell, I’m making the worst decisions when it comes to you, but that hasn’t really changed over the years.”
“You don’t have an opinion on my life anymore!” she yells. “Those are just excuses, Arlo. Whatever your reasoning is doesn’t really matter because, at the end of the day, I can’t trust you. And that won’t ever change.” She tones down her volume and gently pushes me to the side. The tears fall faster on her face, and I want nothing more than to wipe them from her face and tell her everything will be okay. That we’ll work things out.
But I can’t say that because she’s right. I broke her trust, and I’m not even close to piecing it back together. Tonight definitely hindered any progress I’ve made.
She walks away with her head down, and I try to think of anything to say to make her come back to me, but I come up empty.
I watch her walk to her truck, climb in, and pull out of the parking lot. Rubbing my chest, I know I need to figure my shit out. Confusing both of us with this back and forth isn’t doing either of us any favors. Hurting her any more isn’t an option.
The drive home was long, my head too muddled with just how much I’ve fucked with Rina’s life. When I got home, I went straight to my safe and pulled out the piece of paper that could change everything, and probably not for the better.
Our marriage license.
Behind that, the divorce papers that she sent back to me that I never signed.
I just couldn’t. When I received them, I knew they were coming, but seeing how easily she signed them broke a part of me that will never heal. Which is a contradiction since I was the one that asked for it in the first place.
It’s a secret I’ve held for fifteen years, and I’m not even sure why. It’s possibly my biggest fuck-up, and that’s saying something considering everything I’ve done to Rina.
If Rina had gotten serious with someone, I would have figured out how to make sure the divorce went through, even if I had to tell her about it. But she never did. And being married, even if it was in name only, gave me hope. It gave me strength when I had my injury. When I was all alone in the hospital recovering. Through the thousands of hours of physical therapy to learn to walk again. I continued through all of it because of this piece of paper.
I remember the courthouse wedding, how gorgeous she looked in her white sundress. I couldn’t believe that was my life, that Marina Hutton chose to marry me. Just an orphan, with a plan to be career military. I was nothing special, but Rina? Rina was everything. Hell, she still is.
I may have kept my distance from her prior to the last few weeks, but I’ve always looked after her. When I knew she was working late, I’d drive by her workshop to check on her. When I knew she was doing a delivery, I would follow her to make sure everything went smoothly.
And I know, without a doubt, she would kill me if she ever found out about any of it.
Setting the marriage license on my bed, I flip through the divorce papers until I find the sticky note on the last page.
This was never what I wanted. I’m not sure what’s happening with you, but know that you will always be the love of my life.
Whatever is going on, I hope one day you’ll tell me about it. I hope you know, no matter how hurt I am, that I’m always on your side.
I’ll love you always.
She signed it with a heart, nothing more. I rub my ribcage where the same heart is tattooed, along with an outline of the falls we loved so much.
It’s time I start being the man she deserves, even if I never get to have her again.
Picking up my phone, I send a text that will hopefully be the first step in a long line to be the man I always should have been.
Me:
Can I have the number of your therapist?
