Page 43 of One Vow

“You can start over in California. Full scholarship. Money for room and board. No student loans. You walk out a doctor and my daughter gets to forget you.” He handed me an envelope. “Your plane ticket, your apartment key, some start-up cash.”

I couldn’t take it. Leaving her would kill me.

I held onto the notion our love would conquer all. Until I got home, and she was sitting on the sofa in a puddle of her own tears, face splotchy and swollen, eyes red, hands shaking, computer on her lap. The scandal would never die down for us if I stuck around. I did the right thing. For her. For…her.

And I signed the papers and sent them straight back, well, I did get drunk first. Toasted my soon-to-be ex-wife in a bar full of strangers who thought I was celebrating not mourning.

I didn’t know she was going to burn our divorce papers up in her own drunken mournabration.

“What if my subconscious knew you’d want to get married someday and this was my… subconscious way of making sure I got to see you again?”

I should’ve turned the car around. Marched back into that house, our house, and kissed her until she forgot I walked out on her. Again.

Fuck. Again. So many mistakes. No way we could come back from…all of this. Even if I could somehow manage to convince Beth to cancel the wedding, there was no way I’d ever be able to talk my way back into Felicity’s life.

But I could try. I could reason with Beth. I could figure out a way to convince Felicity to give me yet another chance. And this time, I would use it well. I would make every minute of every day of her life better than the one before it.

Or I would screw it all up and we’d end up apart anyway, but at least we’d have the try we should’ve had before.

I pulled my car into the space next to Beth’s rental and tried to calm down. I tried not to jump out and start listing my reasons why we shouldn’t get married. Dealing with Beth would take finesse and patience rather than ranting and raving.

She tapped on my window. “You sleeping in the car?”

One eyebrow cocked, and a smile on her face, she pulled the door handle and leaned in. “Come on. You can pout in the comfort of our room.”

She held out her hand. “And you haven’t had a good pout until you’ve mini-bar pouted.”

Only the thought of the minibar talked me out of the car. I pulled my bag from the back seat, then turned to follow her inside. In the elevator, she ran the back of her hand along the back of mine and I shifted away. There was no zing. No rush of heat. No thrill when she touched me. I’d denied myself those things for ten years, but now that I’d felt it again, I would never be able to live without them.

“Our flight leaves at two a.m.” She spoke matter of factly, and I had to wonder why the hell she was bothering to tell me. She obviously would be the one making all the plans and I would be the one following blindly behind because I didn’t care enough to protest. When she slipped her keycard into the slot and the light turned green, I blew out a breath.

“For fuck’s sake, Finn. I’m not going to force myself on you.” But in absolute contrast to her words, as soon as she walked into the room, she yanked her shirt over her head. “Besides, I think you might’ve had enough sex for a day?”

Probably why when she dropped her bra onto the bed, I didn’t care to look. It certainly wasn’t because she wasn’t beautiful. Beth Cooper was as beautiful as any fashion model or actress. Blonde. Built like a Baywatch lifeguard. Being married to her and sleeping with her wouldn’t be a hardship for any man who wasn’t in love with the woman of his dreams. But I was and that woman wasn’t Beth.

She wrapped a towel around herself and leaned her head against the doorframe to the bathroom. “That you still pine for her after all these years gives me hope.”

Hope? At least one of us had some. Mine faded a little more with every minute I was away from Felicity. She closed the door, and I sighed, and listened to the water patter against the shower floor.

There were a hundred things I wanted to say to Felicity and none seemed appropriate to text, but I’d tried to call ten times. And I knew it made me creepy and stalker-like not to let it go when her not answering was a pretty clear signal, but I had to explain. One last try.

I love you, Lis. I know that it’s hard for you to believe, but it’s true. When I took the offer from your dad, you’d just told me that you wished you’d never met me.

No. Not her fault. Delete. Try again.

I love you. I took the money to give us both a chance to start over.

Shit. It wasn’t altruistic either. Delete.

I was selfish. I thought if I took the money and went away to come back as a doctor, as someone who could give you the love you deserve, we could forget this whole thing. We could start over. You would see I was a man more than my mistakes. Without your dad’s help and the money, I couldn’t have done it. I’m sorry I hurt you again. I would sell my soul to change that. I’ll always love you. I’ll always want you. But it has to be your choice now, and sadly, the clock is ticking. I’m sorry about that, too. Please call me.

The begging at the end zapped a bit of manhood I shouldn’t have been so willing to part with, but for Felicity, I would have done anything.

By the time I got the text right and hit send, Beth came out of the bathroom, dressed, smiling, hair up, makeup on.

She sat beside me on the edge of the bed. Not touching me. Not even looking at me. “She signed the papers.”

Thanks for that.