I’m not letting her run.
I won’t let her shut me out.
Chapter Eight
Willow
I’m a runner.
Not one who runs 5Ks for fun.
A runner from situations I don’t want to face.
I shut my phone off when it rings for what seems like the hundredth time and slip it into my bag. I’m not ready for this—for the reality of what’s about to become my life. I don’t want to engage in conversations about childbirth, epidurals, and midwives. And definitely nothing about moving.
Call me selfish, but I refuse to move thousands of miles for a man in love with another woman. A man who’ll always be in love with that woman. A man who, even though he irritates me to no limit, made me feel beautiful and wanted one night.
He gave me an intimacy I’d never had. All I’d gotten in the past was a boyfriend who lied and cheated like it was his job. The more time I spend with Dallas the more those memories of how he made me feel that night will pop up.
I check the time on my watch and relax in my seat, my shoulders drooping. It never fails that I choose the worst in the penis pool. Millions of men in this world, and somehow, I manage to always pick the screwed up ones who see me as nothing more than a disposable fuck.
“Did you think it’d be that easy?”
I tense at the sound of his sharp voice. It’s as if a knife has been jabbed into my throat. I’m terrified to face him. I can sense his eyes tearing into my back, feeling the pain as if they were breaking flesh.
I should’ve taken the Greyhound or hitchhiked. I probably shouldn’t have headed straight to the most obvious place—the fucking airport.
“You had enough balls to run away. Don’t be a coward now. Turn around and look me in the eyes,” he demands. “Tell me you’re not only selfish, but a liar as well.”
His bossiness and cruel words set a match to my already shitty mood.
How dare he judge me. How dare he act like he understands what I’m going through.
“Willow.” My name sounds like a threat, assuring me he’s not leaving until I give in.
I pull myself up from my chair with a dramatic moan and jerk my purse over my shoulder. The airport is no LAX, but there are plenty of people around with curious eyes.
Dallas’s face is challenging, like he’s ready to close a business deal. He did nice, and I took advantage of it. Now, he’s giving me something else.
I made a promise and broke it. He has every right to be pissed.
I’m ashamed it takes me a minute to square up my shoulders, to show him I’m not someone who can be scolded like a child.
“We’re not doing this here,” is all I say.
He sweeps his arm out. “After you, your highness.”
Since I’m not that familiar with the airport, I head to the women’s restroom, uncertain if he’ll follow me.
He does.
“This is a better place to do it?” he questions, locking the door behind us and leaning back against it when I nod. “Suit yourself.”
I throw my arms down to my sides with a huff. “What do you want from me, Dallas?”
“What do I want from you?” He lets out a mocking laugh. “I want you to act like a responsible adult. It might be hard for you to realize, but this isn’t only about you.”
“I know.”
“So, why run?”
“I’m scared!”
“And I’m assuring you, there’s no reason to be.” He comes closer as a long breath releases from his broad chest. “I know your trust in me is shit.” He signals between the two of us. “I’m not asking you to marry me or be with me or, hell, even like me. I’m sure we can both agree that a relationship is out of the question. You can think I’m a shit person all you want, but I’m not a shit dad, and you fucking know it.”
He’s hitting me with all the truths. You’d think someone would break entirely when the love of their life died. Lucy’s death shattered Dallas, but she left scattered pieces, so he’d be able to take care of Maven. She knew their daughter would be Dallas’s savior when she was gone.
He goes to grab my bag. “Come on. Lauren has a twelve-hour shift. We’ll talk, and then you can have her apartment to yourself for the night.”
I hold my hand out to stop him. “I’m getting on that plane.”
His lips press into a white slash, and he tiredly rubs his face.
“Scooby is waiting for me.”
He blinks. “I’m sorry, who is waiting for you?”
“Scooby.”
He folds his arms across his chest and kicks his legs out. “You two hanging out in the Mystery Machine with Velma?”
“Scooby is my cat, smart-ass,” I snap, jutting my chin out.
“Why you named your cat Scooby is a conversation for another time, but we’ll be having some serious talks about the name of our child. I won’t have a Shaggy Barnes running around.”
My hand falls to my chest at the sound of a knock on the door. Dallas holds a finger to his mouth. The knocking stops, and I open my mouth to tell him that I’ll see him later when it starts back up again. The person on the other side must really need to go because the knocks get louder and faster.
“Out of order!” Dallas finally yells. “Go somewhere else.”
The knocking subsides, and I narrow my eyes his way. “You do know, this is the women’s restroom? They’re probably going to security.”
I shrug. He can’t badger me if he’s in jail.
“Then, let’s make this quick.”
“My mom is watching Scooby for me. I told her I’d be back by tomorrow. I also need to tell her about the whole becoming-a-grandma thing.”
Family—Dallas’s weakness.
I realize I chose the right words when his face falls into an apology.
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
I wrinkle my nose. “If you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m not the most open person.”
“That makes two of us. What a pair.” He gives me a gentle smile. “Go home, Willow. Tell your mom, but keep in contact.”
My shoulders slump. “I will.”
“Promise me.” I open my mouth to do what he asked, but he stops me, scowling. “Actually, don’t bother. Promises don’t mean shit to you.” He unlocks the door. “If you don’t answer my calls, the next time you see me will be when I’m standing on your mom’s doorstep, introducing myself.”
“I don’t know why you won’t let me keep him,” my mom whines while running her fingers through Scooby’s thick white hair.
A few strands stick to her hand because he sheds like no other. We have the whole let-me-keep-Scooby talk every time she cat-sits.
I flew into LA, got my car from my apartment, and then drove to my mom’s house. She lives in the same house I grew up in, in a small suburb three hours out of LA. The ride gave me time to figure out how I was going to break the news to her.
“Mom, you bought him for me as a present.”
After Stella moved away, he was a birthday gift to keep me company, but I think she used me as an excuse to buy herself an animal.