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“See ya around, Stuart.” I trotted up to Grace, who hadn’t bothered to wait for me. “I’ve got a car. Let me take you home,” I said when I reached her.
She didn’t say anything, but she did walk up to where my driver was waiting for me. I slid in next to her.
The car pulled from the curb, and Grace sat next to me, not saying a word.
“I guess, I should be glad you haven’t ghosted me.” I probably should have been more sensitive, but for someone who advocated talking about feelings, she sure was tight-lipped when her own feelings were involved.
She cut me a glance. “I told you I didn’t need you.”
Another remark that hit me right in the heart. “I made this mess. It was for me to try and clean up.” Granted, my past efforts to fix things didn’t go well, but for this one, I thought for sure my prestige would help. It was arrogant, but it was based on past experience.
“No. It was my mistake, and one I needed to take responsibility for. I’m lucky I didn’t get a bigger penalty.”
“I’m sorry for that. I feel responsible and need to do my part too.”
She shook her head and looked out the window. Since making up with her in her office earlier in the week, all I’d felt was like I was losing her again. Not a quick loss like when she would bolt on me, but a slow death of our relationship. The worst part was that the more I tried to hang on, the more it felt like she was slipping away.
She turned back. “Not everything is about you, Hunter. I’m a grown woman who can make her own decisions and suffer the consequences of those decisions if I need to.” She shook her head. “I told you not to come. I told you to stay out of it. Why couldn’t you do that?”
“I told you why.” I was having duel emotions; fight or flight. Only it wasn’t a PTSD event. It was whether or not I should try to convince her to forgive me or cut my losses.
“You know what? I need some time.” She leaned forward toward my driver. “Can you pull over, please?”
“Running again?” It was the wrong response, but God dammit, why couldn’t she stay and work with me on this?
My driver looked at me through the rearview mirror. I nodded that he could pull over. He pulled to the closest curb that didn’t involve blocking another car.
Grace got out on the traffic side. A car horn blared as it whizzed by.
“Jesus, Grace,” I said as I got out on my side. “I’d have let you out.” I walked to her, reaching out to touch her but she pulled away. “Let me try to fix this. Not the licensing board, but us.”
“I can’t right now, Hunter. You’ve done enough damage.”
And with that, we were broke. Snapped in two.
I stepped back from her with my arms up in surrender. “Story of my life.” I watched her for a moment. “You know, we’re not really that different, Grace.”
She stared at me.
“You and I both were sour on relationships. My method of dealing was meaningless sex. Yours was avoiding intimacy.” I let that sink in for a moment. “Of the two of us, I was the only one that truly let their issues go and was willing to see where this thing between us could go.”
She flinched.
I checked my watch. “I was going to skip group to be here for you, but since that will do more harm than good, I’m going. Before I do, I’m going to recommend you seek counseling as well, Grace, because you’re as fucked up as I am.”
I turned and started toward my car but stopped and looked at her over my shoulder. “By the way, I’ve got that asshole, Brown, saying he’s going to appeal your sentence and revoke your license recorded on my phone. If you change your mind and think I might be helpful after all, I’ll send it to you.”
Not wanting to see her reaction, I headed back to my car. With each step, my heart tore into tiny pieces. But to hell with it if I was going to continue to have her freeze me out. Yes, I should have listened to her and respected her wishes, but couldn’t she see where I was coming from? That I cared for her? She not only couldn’t cut me a little slack, she couldn’t cut me any slack. So fine. I was done.
I gave my driver the address of the group. I didn’t want to go, and yet, the only other option was to drink and find a woman. Neither would work. Neither would the group, but at least I wouldn’t leave feeling worse than I did now.
