“You don’t have to,” he says, noticing my eyes fixated on the door.
“I want to.” I glance over to him.
A soft smile wraps around his face. He’s happy I want to take this next step.
“Welcome to your future home.” He pushes and holds the door open for me.
I smack his stomach and try to tamp down my expectations as I walk over the threshold.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I bend down to the floor. “Are you trying to bribe me?”
Chapter Sixteen
“Meet Grover,” Dean says from behind me, shutting the door. “I have to take him out real quick.” He scrambles to a table by the front door and grabs a long black leash.
The dog rolls over on his back, letting me pet him, but when Dean clicks the leash, he’s up and panting with his tail swinging back and forth.
“I never thought my dog would cockblock me. Don’t leave, okay?”
I chuckle. “I’ll go with you.”
“Really?” Dean seems shocked and I don’t understand why, I’m a dog person.
“I guess I could stay here and snoop.”
“Come on, it’s a great night for a walk.” He swings his arm around my shoulders pretending like he wouldn’t want me here without him.
Truth is I do pry, it’s in my nature, and I don’t want to do that to Dean.
We leave the apartment and head to the elevators. “What kind of dog is Grover?”
“Bulldog.”
“He looks like he might be a drooler. Does he shed?”
Dean chuckles. “Wondering how you’ll clean up after him already?”
“You’re way too hopeful.”
“Optimistic. There’s a difference.”
The elevator dings and the doors open. We file in, Grover panting a musical melody as the elevator descends.
I look down at the drool dripping from his tongue and watch a long strand of saliva stretch to the floor.
Please don’t shake. Please don’t move.
Like he heard the worries running through my head, his head twists and he stares up at me with intrigued eyes. The long gross strip of drool drips and lands on the carpet.
“Is there something wrong with Labradors or golden retrievers? Or how about a small poodle?”
The elevator doors open, and we step into a large foyer decorated with brass and marble. “A doorman? Fancy.”
“Well, I am an attorney after all.” He straightens his back like it’s a big deal, but I know it’s an act.
When I walked out on him five years ago, he was passed out on a mattress that had no frame or box spring. Our eatery set included paper plates and not the name brand ones. The ones where you grab ten plates instead of just one because it’s near impossible to peel one away from the other. No metal silverware or glass cups. It wasn’t exactly like we were eating steak and needed a heavy-duty knife anyway. We were college students and the only thing we had between us was love—but that hadn’t proved to be enough.
Now he lives in a condo with a man who opens doors for him. The foyer here is bigger than our apartment back then. I shouldn’t be so surprised. He sacrificed every part of his life for baseball, including me. Why would he not do the same for whatever he wanted after his dream to go to the big leagues was over?
A thought flashes through my brain like a light bulb that was just turned on and I realize that he’s going to use that same drive to get me. Which means, I’m in way over my head.
“Clark, this is Chelsea. Chelsea this is Clark.”
A tall man stands from behind the desk. “Nice to meet you, Miss…”
“Walsh, but please call me—”
“Good evening Miss Walsh. What a great night for a walk.” He rounds the desk, staring down at Grover. “What’s the word, Grover? Looks like you got some company tonight.” He flashes Dean a smile.
“Hopefully he can stay on his best behavior and not scare her away,” Dean jokes, walking to the door.
Clark walks a little faster.
“I got it, Clark.” Dean opens the door, but Clark takes it from his hold.
“Don’t go putting me out of a job.” He smiles as we walk through the door.
“Thank you,” I say.
Clark nods. “My pleasure. Have a good walk, Grover.”
The door shuts and the three of us fall in line. Grover seems pretty well trained on a leash, or it’s taking enough energy to get his four legs to hold up his chubby little body.
“There’s a dog park up here a little ways. He’ll do his business and then we’ll head upstairs. Grover doesn’t care for much exercise.”
“Sure thing.”
We walk along the street, Dean positioning Grover’s leash in his left hand, enabling him to be in the middle now. His right hand seeks out mine and goose bumps run up my arm when our fingers entwine. I’ve grown used to this stage of our affection and although my body craves more—we never had this type of loving affection before.
“What do you think went wrong?” I ask under the dark sky with scattered stars you can barely see between high-rises on either side.
“Me. I’m what went wrong.”
“No, it takes two. I didn’t exactly fight for us.”
“Chels.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk. Grover panting next to him like we just ran the Chicago marathon. “You did the right thing.”
My gaze diverts to a couple walking hand in hand, laughing as they pass us by. The man nods and the woman smiles our way. We politely do the same.
Fear that I’ll never have that pricks my chest. Dean and I always seem to be so hot we burn out or so cold we get stuck in the same spot. We can never seem to find that happy middle ground.
“Sometimes I think that if I would’ve—”
“Don’t,” he says. “Don’t second guess one thing.” We reach a black iron rod fence and Dean opens up the gate to the dog park and we step through, shutting it behind us.
“Good evening,” Dean says to a woman in her fifties with a small poodle.
She smiles down at Grover and then up to us. “Great night.”
“A perfect spring night. Summer is coming,” I say.
Dean leads us to a white stone wall and sits down, unhooking Grover. He waddles around, sniffing the trees and grass. His hand finds mine again, but this time he puts our entwined hands in his lap. “I know we have so much shit from the past to deal with, but I wish we could leave it back there and start fresh.”
“In a perfect world we could,” I say.
His gaze stays on Grover who walks as slowly as my grandma Rita.
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?”
This man next to me isn’t the Dean I knew. He’s not the man I married years ago. That man would’ve assumed I’d forgive him with a flippant apology.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I’m hesitant, Dean. I might’ve been the one who walked out, but I broke my own heart before you had a chance to finish the job.”
His head turns in my direction, his eyes transparent and showing me how much my words cut him just now.
“I didn’t say it to upset you.”