“A million dollars?” Scarlett’s eyes bug out of her head.
“Yep.”
That’s how much he’s giving me in the divorce papers he left. I’m entitled to nothing according to the prenup. A million freaking dollars. All I have to do is sign.
Piper, Scarlett, and Dakota sit in the living room. I don’t know how they knew, but thirty minutes after Declan walked out, the three of them showed up with hugs and wine.
“I’m not taking it,” I clarify. “He’s already done enough. I don’t want his money. I never wanted his money.”
“We know that,” Piper says.
“Did he say when he was coming back?” Scarlett asks.
I hold out my empty wine glass. “No, but I don’t think it’ll be tonight. He probably wants to wait until I move out. I should probably start packing.”
Dakota fills my glass but shakes her head. “I don’t think he expects you to move out. He said he wants to have a kid with you.”
I swallow a large gulp of wine. “I can’t stay here. Not now. It doesn’t feel right.”
I glance around the house. I’ve never thought of it as mine, but it is my home, nonetheless. It has little touches of me everywhere. The green chair, the red mugs and plates, a collection of my scarves and hats by the front door. But it’s the reminders of Declan everywhere I look that make it hard to breathe.
“Do you know where he is?” I finally ask them.
“He was at Ash’s,” Piper says. “They were talking about heading to the lake for the weekend to cheer him up, but they were still there when I left.”
The thought of him being hours away makes my chest tighten. I lie back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.
“What do I do?”
“We can’t answer that, honey,” Scarlett says, coming to lie next to me.
“What do you want to do?” Dakota asks.
“Right now, I want to find him and climb into his arms. Even when we’re fighting, I just want him. Is that weird?”
“No, that’s something else,” Piper says.
“It’s love. You love him.” Scarlett threads her fingers through mine. “He’s your person.”
“Was my person. Now he’s my ex-husband.”
“Not until you sign the divorce papers,” Dakota pipes in.
Piper moves from the couch to sit on the floor at my feet. “Are you really going to go through with it? If you love him and he loves you, there has to be another way.”
“If I don’t, I’ll either sit around wondering if we ever would have worked out if it weren’t for the circumstances or counting the days until we’ve reached the one-year mark and he’s no longer contractually obligated to be with me. I can’t live like that, waiting for the worst to happen.”
“There are no guarantees. Not even if two people get into a marriage with the best of intentions.” Dakota’s words settle like a rock in the pit of my stomach.
“How do you get through the day like that?” I rub at my chest.
I’ve watched so many men walk out on my mom. She’s not perfect, but I saw how much she cared for them. Yet, they still left.
The girls stay late, but Declan doesn’t come back. At two in the morning, I have to push Scarlett out the door. She’s the best friend a girl could ask for, but I just want to sleep. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. Ugh. I can’t even think about packing and moving. Where am I going to go? Back to my mom’s?
I climb into Declan’s bed and breathe him in. I can’t believe it’s really over. I fall into a dreamless sleep and wake up, what feels like minutes later, to banging on the front door. When pulling the covers over my head and ignoring it, doesn’t stop the pounding, I stomp downstairs.
Can’t a girl wallow in private? I’m sure it’s Scarlett, or maybe Piper, possibly both of them coming over to make sure I haven’t crawled under the bed and started belting Taylor Swift songs at the top of my lungs (though I definitely felt like it last night).
My legs are bare. I slept in Declan’s jersey (Don’t judge me. I’m wallowing), and my hair is up in a high ponytail that shifted while I slept and is now a messy side pony. The tangled ends slap me in my face with every stomp.
I’m cursing Scarlett and her loyalty as I pull open the front door. “Do you know what time it is?”
Only, it isn’t Scarlett.
A large guy in his mid-to-late forties, by my best guess, stands on the other side. He has a thick gray beard and matching hair. His brows lift and his stare drops to my legs and then quickly up to meet my eyes. He clears his throat, then lifts his left arm to look at his watch. “Ten o’clock on the dot.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Rick. Can you let Declan know I’m here with the tub? The guys and I will get it unloaded.” He takes a step away from the door.
“Wait,” I call after him, “he’s not here.”
“Oh.” His stare narrows. “I thought I confirmed the delivery with him.”
My face heats. I’m sure he did, and the fact Declan isn’t here means he didn’t want to face me.
“I’ll give him a call,” Rick says.
While he goes to his truck, phone to his ear, I run back upstairs and put on shorts and a bra. When I get back downstairs, he’s coming to the front door again.
“Are you all right with us bringing it in this morning?”
“Yeah.” My voice is squeaky. Oh, how I wish I’d heard the conversation between him and Declan. Where is he? What did he say?
With a nod, he and his guys get to work. I leave them to it and head for the kitchen to make coffee. I find one of the old mugs. Declan put them back in the cabinet after I had my meltdown over them. I do like the red ones, but somehow using the ones he’s had forever makes me feel closer to him.
With my coffee in hand, I go sit in the living room. I can hear the guys working upstairs and I keep glancing toward the front door for Declan. I pull back the curtain and look toward Ash’s house. It looks quiet over there. Maybe they went to the lake after all?
I’ve had my second cup of coffee by the time Rick comes downstairs with his men. They pull up the drop cloth they placed on the floor when they carried the tub upstairs.
“Do you want to take a look and make sure it’s okay?” Rick asks.
I hesitate. I am so not the right person to be checking on home projects, but he stares at me so intently, I find myself agreeing and following him.
The light is on in the bathroom. He steps in first and then moves to the side to let me look. My breath catches and the back of my eyes sting. A stunning clawfoot bathtub sets in exactly the spot I said it should go under the window.
“What do you think?” Rick asks.
“I love him,” I say, then catch myself. “I mean it. I love the tub.”
