I hear the telltale sign of the locks being undone and then . . .
“Hey Mills.” The door pushes open more. “Come in.”
I slip into the comfort of Shane’s apartment and go directly to his couch where I take a seat in the same spot I’ve been frequenting lately.
“Same drink?” he asks as he heads to the kitchen.
“No, nothing thanks.”
I stare down at the Bobbies sweatshirt I stole from Carson a few years back as tears start to fill my eyes. I can hear Shane grab a beer from the fridge, pop it open, and then he joins me on the couch.
“Milly, you know I love you, right?”
I nod.
“But what are you doing here? You have a husband you should be with right now. Not with me.”
I shake my head as the tears spill over my cheeks. “I can’t, Shane. I can’t be around him.”
He takes a sip of his beer and then says, “I’ve been pretty chill with you being here, and you know you’re more than welcome to come here whenever you want, but we need to talk about what’s going on. It’s the only way you can move past this, because coming here to cry and ignoring the reason why you’re crying, that’s not healthy, Milly.”
I bite on my bottom lip, unable to say anything from how choked up my throat is.
“Is he mad at you?”
Probably.
“Is your marriage in trouble?”
Most definitely.
But I keep my mouth shut.
“Are you going to work things out?”
More tears spill over from the thought of divorcing Carson. Of letting him go, something I’ve given serious thought to over the past month. It’s why I haven’t acknowledged the adoption plans, because I’m not sure we’re even going to be together the next week, let alone the next few months as we go through the process.
He needs to be freed of this pressure cooker. He needs to be able to live the life he wants, not be held back by me.
Chocking down my sorrow, I shake my head. “No, I’m going to ask him for a divorce.”
“Milly, seriously?” Shane sits up now. “Because of everything—”
“I can’t give him kids, Shane. He says he wants to adopt, but I know there’s a part of him that wishes we could have a kid of our own as well. And hell, I know that sounds awful, because there are so many children out there that need a good home, but with the death of Carson’s dad so many years ago, I know there has to be that need to share his blood with someone else, you know?”
“Blood doesn’t matter when it comes to a family,” Shane says.
“I feel like it matters in this circumstance.”
“Have you actually talked to him about it?”
I hang my head. “I barely talk to him at all these days. It’s too hard. I feel . . .” I suck in a sob. “I feel like such a failure, Shane. I can’t look at him, because all I see is the same sadness reflected in my eyes. There’s a wall between us. A block, and I’m not sure there’s any way to knock it down.”
“The man is so fucking in love with you, Milly, and there’s no way he’ll want to get a divorce.”
“He’ll stay with me out of duty, because he promised to always love me, but I don’t want him to live with the regret of never having children of his own.”
Shane looks off to the side and says, “I really don’t know how your circumstances make you feel, but what I do know is that you’ll regret that. You’ll regret divorcing Carson. This is a speed bump—”
“It’s been four years, Shane. This isn’t a speed bump. This is a fork in the road and we’re going in opposite directions.”
“Because you’re forcing him away—”
Knock. Knock.
Shane stands from the couch. “My pizza is here. One second.”
He walks over to the door and I lean against the back of the couch where I allow my tears to fall, not bothering to dry them. The door opens and then I hear, “Is she here?”
Carson.
I turn just as he makes eye contact with me. My breath catches in my throat as I see the distress in his eyes, his wet, unruly hair spiked on all ends, and his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate.
God, I love him so much.
Why can’t I give him what he wants? What is so wrong with me? Emory and Dottie were wrong. I do feel embarrassed. How can I not? This is all on me.
“You know, I think I’m going to go take a walk,” Shane says while slipping on his shoes. As he leaves, he pats Carson on the back and then heads out of his apartment, leaving me alone with the man who is my everything. The man I need to let go.
Carson stands in the entryway and stares at me. If only I could read his mind, I’d know exactly what he was feeling. What he must think of me lying to him. Of me being at Shane’s. Of skipping out of dinner to be anywhere but with him.
Shame washes over me.
Guilt consumes me.
Finally, Carson says, “What do you want me to do?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to come sit with you? Do you want to come home with me?”
I look away, unable to look at his beautiful eyes right now. “I don’t know,” I say, even though my heart is begging for him to come to me.
“If you don’t know, then I’m going to do what I want.” He storms toward the couch, takes my hand in his, and pulls me to my feet. He tilts my chin up and without a stutter in his movements, he brings his lips down to mine, capturing my mouth.
Claiming me.
More tears spill over my cheeks as I grab hold of him and kiss him back.
His arms wrap around me, holding me close, making sure I can’t go anywhere, and his mouth takes charge, reminding me of the first time we kissed. The moment feeling unreal, like a dream.
For a brief reprieve, the grief—the insecurities, the disappointment—all washes away. A small eruption of butterflies take flight in my stomach as Carson’s hand travels down to my rear end where he grips tightly, claiming me as his with complete confidence.
Just as I grow comfortable in my husband’s arms, he pulls away. He keeps close though and tilts my chin up so I’m forced to look him in the eyes. His thumbs stroke at my cascading tears. Quietly, he says, “I love you, Milly.”
“I . . . I love you,” I say on a hiccup.
“Come with me. Please. We need to talk.”
Knowing this is going to be one of the hardest conversations of my life, I nod and let him lead me out of Shane’s apartment. We head down the stairs, Carson holding on to my hand tightly and when we reach the stairs that lead outside, we spot Shane sitting on the steps, his pizza box on his lap, just eating.
He takes one look at us, nods, and then heads up the stairs.
Carson stops him by the shoulder and says, “Next time, fucking tell me she’s with you. You owe me that much.”
Shane nods solemnly. “Understood.”
And then we make our way to Carson’s car.
***
CARSON
I don’t drive us home. Instead, I take us to the baseball field where we used to practice, where Milly schooled me on many occasions.
I put the car in park and without a word, I get out of the car, round the front, and open Milly’s door for her. With her hand in mine, I walk us down to the empty dugout and have her take a seat next to me on the bench.