Read Online As If You Never Left Me (Crimson Romance) by Katriena Knights - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katriena Knights
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even a little, he could feel it burning a straight line down the middle of his chest, as if someone had sunk a knife there. He cleared his throat. “‘Dear Joely,’ blah blah blah, ‘I can’t believe you’re running to Colorado. Why don’t you just go all the way and head for L.A.?’”
“That was cold.”
“A little.” He went on. “‘Are you sure this friend of a friend with the storefront up for sale is legit? You have no idea what you’re doing and you could get screwed over big time.’ See? I was concerned for your welfare.”
“Nice.”
“Yes. ‘Also, where the hell is Bailey, Colorado, anyhow?’” He paused, skimming a few paragraphs. “‘I don’t want you to be in Colorado. I want you back here where you belong. And if you think I’m signing those divorce papers, you’re fricking nuts.’”
“Does it really say ‘fricking’? You’re not censoring?”
“Not that part.”
“You skipped a lot.”
He winced, thinking about some of the harsh words he’d skipped as he’d read. “Just filler.” He put the letter back in the envelope and set it out of her reach.
As he opened the second letter, he wondered again why he’d decided to do this. Each letter was like a window into the past, allowing him to relive the brutal, searing emotion he’d poured into each one. It hurt.
So he continued to read aloud, a sentence here, a paragraph there, just until he saw on her face that she understood. That was all he wanted. Just for her to understand why he hadn’t pursued her more diligently. Why he was only here now, fourteen months later.
I won’t chase you halfway across the country if you don’t still love me. There’s no point. Give me some sign I should come and I will. Because I still love you. That’s not going to change.
Five letters on the pile.
If you meant what you said, I don’t suppose there’s any point, but do you remember what we said on our wedding day? Just give me some kind of sign that we can have that again and I’ll be on the next plane to Denver.
Number ten.
You can’t possibly understand how much this hurts, Joely, when you don’t call, you don’t take my calls, you don’t answer my letters. But I’m not signing the divorce papers. If you want a split, you’ll have to talk to me face-to-face. No other options.
Eleven and twelve went right onto the stack. He didn’t even bother opening them. Joely’s eyes were swimming by now. She swallowed lurking tears, then asked, “Don’t I want to hear anything out of those?”
“Nope. I think you get the point.” He picked up the pile of letters, carried them to the stove and tossed them in. The fire curled under the sheets of paper, blackening the edges. Eradicating another piece of their past. It felt like surgery. Cauterization. He closed the heavy, wrought iron door and the flames took the letters silently, with no witnesses. Better that way, he was certain.
Presently she said quietly, “So why did you finally come?”
“I took a really close look at those divorce papers and realized I’d been operating on a false assumption.”
“That was it?”
He shrugged. “Mostly. Does it really matter, now that I’m here?”
She crossed her arms, staring at the squat, silent stove. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
• • •
So they had moved forward, through some of the issues, seeking closure. Joely couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t feel any better about it all.
The camaraderie they’d shared through the morning was all but gone. She couldn’t look at Rey without thinking about the months before she’d left, when he’d barely spoken to her, and the minutes before she’d left, when she’d said far too much.
The process didn’t seem to have affected Rey as deeply, though. He sat watching a cable news channel — after he’d gone outside to scrape the snow off the satellite dish — and seemed not to be agonizing over anything at all. It was a man thing, she supposed, that
“That was cold.”
“A little.” He went on. “‘Are you sure this friend of a friend with the storefront up for sale is legit? You have no idea what you’re doing and you could get screwed over big time.’ See? I was concerned for your welfare.”
“Nice.”
“Yes. ‘Also, where the hell is Bailey, Colorado, anyhow?’” He paused, skimming a few paragraphs. “‘I don’t want you to be in Colorado. I want you back here where you belong. And if you think I’m signing those divorce papers, you’re fricking nuts.’”
“Does it really say ‘fricking’? You’re not censoring?”
“Not that part.”
“You skipped a lot.”
He winced, thinking about some of the harsh words he’d skipped as he’d read. “Just filler.” He put the letter back in the envelope and set it out of her reach.
As he opened the second letter, he wondered again why he’d decided to do this. Each letter was like a window into the past, allowing him to relive the brutal, searing emotion he’d poured into each one. It hurt.
So he continued to read aloud, a sentence here, a paragraph there, just until he saw on her face that she understood. That was all he wanted. Just for her to understand why he hadn’t pursued her more diligently. Why he was only here now, fourteen months later.
I won’t chase you halfway across the country if you don’t still love me. There’s no point. Give me some sign I should come and I will. Because I still love you. That’s not going to change.
Five letters on the pile.
If you meant what you said, I don’t suppose there’s any point, but do you remember what we said on our wedding day? Just give me some kind of sign that we can have that again and I’ll be on the next plane to Denver.
Number ten.
You can’t possibly understand how much this hurts, Joely, when you don’t call, you don’t take my calls, you don’t answer my letters. But I’m not signing the divorce papers. If you want a split, you’ll have to talk to me face-to-face. No other options.
Eleven and twelve went right onto the stack. He didn’t even bother opening them. Joely’s eyes were swimming by now. She swallowed lurking tears, then asked, “Don’t I want to hear anything out of those?”
“Nope. I think you get the point.” He picked up the pile of letters, carried them to the stove and tossed them in. The fire curled under the sheets of paper, blackening the edges. Eradicating another piece of their past. It felt like surgery. Cauterization. He closed the heavy, wrought iron door and the flames took the letters silently, with no witnesses. Better that way, he was certain.
Presently she said quietly, “So why did you finally come?”
“I took a really close look at those divorce papers and realized I’d been operating on a false assumption.”
“That was it?”
He shrugged. “Mostly. Does it really matter, now that I’m here?”
She crossed her arms, staring at the squat, silent stove. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”
• • •
So they had moved forward, through some of the issues, seeking closure. Joely couldn’t help but wonder why she didn’t feel any better about it all.
The camaraderie they’d shared through the morning was all but gone. She couldn’t look at Rey without thinking about the months before she’d left, when he’d barely spoken to her, and the minutes before she’d left, when she’d said far too much.
The process didn’t seem to have affected Rey as deeply, though. He sat watching a cable news channel — after he’d gone outside to scrape the snow off the satellite dish — and seemed not to be agonizing over anything at all. It was a man thing, she supposed, that
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