Page 127 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
Magic.
“Why are you driving by the school?” The direct route to Nick’s house was straight down the highway and through Main Street. Going by the school was blocks out of the way.
“I wanted you to see that,” he said, pointing out the front window.
On the school’s sign, the black lettering had been rearranged to read Get Well Soon, Ms. Austin!
“I love Prescott,” I said.
It was Tuesday afternoon and I had just been discharged from the hospital. I was relieved to be out but nervous at the inevitable conversation to come. Nick and I hadn’t talked about our fight, about the divorce papers or about him walking out on me.
We had both rested and I had healed.
My ribs were still tender but I could move again without feeling sharp pains. I was enjoying the sensation of taking in a full breath without wheezing or coughing. And my eye was now a beautiful greenish yellow that matched Nick’s.
As we weaved through town and left for the hills, the knot in my stomach tightened. My anxiety peaked the second he turned into his drive. The time for us to ignore our issues was over.
Nick helped me inside but I froze in the entryway. I stood by the door and stared at the place where I had watched him leave and had crumpled to the floor. My eyes found the manila envelope of divorce papers still lying on the coffee table. The door closed behind me and Nick stepped into my space.
“We can’t put it off any longer,” I said. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah. We do,” he said quietly. “Come in and sit.”
I shook my head and bit my lower lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I don’t think I can.”
Walking inside meant I could lose Nick from my life. He might not forgive me for the divorce papers. For hurting him. If standing in the doorway would prevent that from happening, I would gladly stay here for the rest of my life.
He laced his fingers through mine and leaned down to kiss the top of my hair. “Come on.” He gently tugged me behind him to the couch.
I opened my mouth to apologize but he beat me to it.
“I’m sorry, Emmeline. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”
The emotion swelled from my chest to my throat, nearly strangling me. “No, I’m sorry. This is my fault.”
He reached out
and grabbed the divorce papers. “I’m going to sign these. And then I’ll let you go.”
My heart plummeted into my stomach. I started shaking my head but he was so focused on the papers he didn’t notice. His broken voice filled my ears.
“I’m sorry I let you down,” he said. “That I didn’t stay. You deserve someone who can keep his promises. I’ll sign the papers and you can be free.”
Tears streamed down my face. “Stop. Please,” I said, pressing my fingers against his lips. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should have talked to you about how I was feeling a long time ago.”
“No. No, Emmy. I never should have left you in Vegas. And for me to do it again when you asked me not to? None of this would have happened to you if I had stayed. It’s all on me.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said.
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
He shook his head and leaned forward, grabbing a pen from the table. Then he quickly pulled out the divorce papers and started thumbing through the pages.
“What are you doing?” I gasped.
“I told you I’d sign these,” he whispered. “If we’re over, let’s get it done. You can move on. Let’s sign these and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Home. The motel. The airport. Wherever.”
