Page 151 of Demo
I got out of the car, slung my purse across my body and made my way inside. It was packed, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw Janice waving her arm, and I turned fully to see her. She was in a booth sitting next to Jared, and I could see the top of my date’s head over the seat. He had his back to me. As I approached, Jared slid out of the booth and gave me a hug in greeting. I had met him on a few occasions, and he seemed nice enough.
Releasing me, he gestured to my date, who was sliding out of the booth to greet me, and I turned to get a good look at him.Yep, definitely the guy I’ve been drooling over.
“Lyzbeth,” Jared said over the obnoxiously loud music. “I want you to meet my friend, Knox.”
Chapter 42
KNOX
It’sbeenfourdayssince I walked out of the apartment, and three days since I called a lawyer and asked to have papers drawn up. I paid extra to have them completed overnight, and I’ve been staring at them on my dad’s kitchen table ever since.
I texted Lizzie and asked her to come over here. I just couldn’t do it at the apartment. And I wanted her to be somewhere she’s loved. But now I’m not so sure this was a good idea. This is where I proposed to her—twice. Where we found each other again during the darkest nights of my life.
Before I can think any more about it, gravel crunches under tires and I know she’s pulling into the driveway. I try to swallow but can’t seem to get this giant lump to go down my throat. I cross my arms over my chest as I look out the window. It’s not that cold today, but I’m chilled to the fucking bone, even in a thermal shirt.
I watch Lizzie get out of the car and wrap her arms around herself, as well. She’s got a coat on, instead of a hoodie, telling me she’s just as cold as I am. She keeps her head down as she makes her way up the front walk.
I open the door as she comes up the steps. She stops at the top and pauses a moment before looking up at me. When she does, I’m relieved that she looks much better than the last time I saw her.
“There she is,” I say.
And then I’m destroyed by the half-smile she gives me, because she knows. I know she knows.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry I just left the other night. I—”
“No,” she interrupts me. “It’s OK. Dee was there when I got up. She told me you called her from the truck and waited for her to get there so you could let her in. It was for the best, actually. I kinda … projectile vomited. Like, everywhere.” She splays her hands wide in front of her with the last two words, to emphasize them.
“Well, I mean, it wouldn’t have been the first time I saw you puke, right?” I say it to get a chuckle, but neither of us laughs. I step to the side quickly so she can squeeze past me.
I can tell she tries not to touch me as she passes, like on our first date, and that lump gets bigger in my throat. I quietly close the door, and suddenly the room feels so small. She slowly circles the living room, glancing around, and I cross my arms across my chest again as I shuffle my feet and look down at them.
Shit, I can’t do this.
I look up and Lizzie is closer to me, looking at me with sad eyes. I run my tongue over my lips to moisten them. With feet that feel like they have weights strapped to them, I take one uneasy step toward the dining table, then another. I pause as I get there, then with a shaky hand, lean over and place my palm on top of the documents. Slowly, I drag them toward me.
Lizzie comes to stand beside me, and as much as I don’t want to look at her, I have to. I trail my eyes up to her face, then raise my head to look at her straight on, and I see her eyes locked in on my hand and the paperwork beneath it. Tears leak from the corners of her eyes immediately, and she doesn’t even try to bat them away.
“Liz—” I start to speak, but I have to stop because I feel like I might actually puke. My hand is still on the table when I take a breath through my nose, and start again. “Lizzie, I don’t want it to hurt anymore. If it were just me, I could tolerate it. But I can’t do it to you. That, I can’t bear.”
She’s nodding, and crying. The tears are falling off her trembling lips in big, fat drips. “I know,” she says, and it’s barely audible. “I know.”
I pick my hand up from the table and turn it over, gesturing down to the documents. “I, uh …” There’s that fucking lump again. “It’s a standard divorce agreement.” Shit, the words feel unnatural on my tongue. “You should have a lawyer look at it, but you can have everything. Everything we have in savings. Kennedy. The property …”
I can’t even finish the sentence. I can’t stand the thought. This whole thing feels tragic. I put a fist up to my chest and rub my knuckles on my sternum, trying to soothe the ache.
Lizzie shakily pulls out a chair and starts to sit, and I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass, then fill it with water from the dispenser at the fridge. While I am behind her, I turn my back and use my shoulder to rub away a tear. When I turn back around and start to come up behind her, I see her swipe her cheek into her shoulder the same as I did.
I come around and place the glass of water in front of Lizzie, which she takes with a soft “thanks” then quickly takes a few gulps, before putting the glass back on the table with a trembling hand.
I slide into a chair next to her at the round table.
We sit in silence for minutes. I can hear the gear of the clock on the wall ticking. The hum of the refrigerator. The washing machine turning over downstairs. And Lizzie trying not to let me hear her gasping for air.
“I’m so sorry,” I finally croak out, and the words are a garbled mess as the dam finally breaks and my tears fall freely. I turn in my chair to face her. “I’m so sorry for everything. I never, ever saw us here, baby. I never saw us like this.” Just as I start to sob, Lizzie reaches her hands out and places them over mine, which are covering my face.
“Shhhh,” she soothes through her own tears, then pulls my hands away from my face. “Knox, I need you to understand something, OK? I need you to hear me.” I get ready for her words to slaughter me. She waits for me to look at her.
“I don’t hate you,” she says. “I love you too much to hate you.”
