Lost in You (39 page)

After my inner bitch did her thing, I stalked out of the room and headed to the couch, where I had thrown my purse when I came home.  During that time, Deacon somehow miraculously recovered from the blow to his crotch and started screaming my name wh
ile holding his hand over himself and chased me into the living room.   I snatched up my purse and headed to the front door.  Before I could reach it, Deacon reached me, grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him. 

“Olivia, wait… I can explain!  I
t’s not what you think!”

I laughed.  I have no doubt it was a super creepy clown circus kind of laugh but still I laughed in his asinine face.  He is unbelievable.  Of all the things he could have said to me.

“It’s not what I think?  Are you KIDDING ME?!  I think I just saw my husband jamming his dick into some bitch that isn’t his wife!  Don’t even try to explain yourself Deacon, there is NO excuse. There is NOTHING that you can say that could make me not walk out of here right now.”

I shoved him as hard a
s I could and made my way to the door.  

Recovering quickly, Deacon caught up to me, grabbed my arm. 
Hard.  The real Deacon was about to make an appearance.  The begging lasted all of thirty seconds.  “Olivia, I said to fucking wait.  You are overreacting like a damn baby.  Stop being a bitch and listen to me.” 

I looked at him and sneered, “Screw you Deacon.”

I ripped my arm out of his grasp knowing I would definitely have a bruise above my elbow where his fingers dug into me hard.  I opened the door, ran out, and slammed it behind me …Deacon screaming my name behind me. 

I started to wait for the elevator, but when I heard my apartment door open behind me, I made a dash for the stairwell door and threw myself through the threshold knowing that he woul
dn’t follow me naked down the stairwell.  I ran as fast as I could down two flights of stairs and then stopped, sat down on a stair and started to sob. 

“Here you go Olivia. 
Your copies.”

I jump slightly, startled by Clive’s return.

“We will get these papers filed with the court and you can expect to get your divorce decree in the mail in about two weeks.” 

Clive hands me my copies of the divorce documents in a manila envelope.  Wow.  My four year marriage reduced to a few papers in an e
nvelope. 

“Thank you Clive. 
For everything.”

“You’re welcome, Olivia, and if you stop and see Jessica on your way out, she will give you your final invoice and make sure she has your forwarding address in our system. 
Best of luck to you.”

I smile, give
him a nod and step out of his office and walk to the reception desk to see Jessica. 

After paying my bill, I take my manila envelope and walk out of the office. 

The sun hits me in the face; I squint my eyes and start rooting around in my purse looking for my sunglasses.  Popping them onto my face, I just stand there for a moment, take a deep breath and start walking to catch the next train.  Pulling out my cell phone from the front pocket of my purse, I start dialing my best friend Pyper.

“Hi this is
Pyper!  I must be treating my clients like royalty at Shimmer & Soothe Salon and Spa!  You should be jealous that you aren’t here yourself!  Leave me a message and I will get back to you to schedule the appointment I’m sure you want to make!”

I laugh at my fr
iend’s message as usual and wait for the beep.

“Hi, it’s me.  Well it’s done.  I just signed the papers and left Clive’s office.  Why do I feel…?”  I stop talking and sigh.  “Honestly, I don’t know how I feel.  Part of me feels empty and part of me wants t
o host my own divorce party.  With cake.  A cake that has a bride on top holding a knife with the bloody groom in a pool of his own blood at the bottom.  They really make those you know.  Crazy right?  Anyway, give me a call when you can!  I’m headed home to do some more packing.  Kisses!”

I press end on my phone and shove it back into the front pocket of my purse.  I walk through the subway entrance, scan my link pass, and wait for the T to arrive.  I start reflecting on my life here.  Deacon moved out a w
hile ago.  I had to threaten to call the cops if he didn’t get his ass out. But I am leaving Boston for good.  I still remember coming here seven years ago to attend the journalism program at Boston University.  While it wasn’t my first college choice, I will always look back, and love having lived here.  In fact, once I married Deacon, I always thought I would stay here forever.  Instead, I’m packing up and moving my life back to Chicago, Illinois.  I’m going to move in with Pyper.

The T finally arrives an
d I step in looking for a seat.  I take a seat towards the back and sit next to the window.  Leaning my head back on the seat, watching the subway walls as they fly by, Deacon’s handsome face comes to my mind.  Willing to do anything to win me back, he brought me flowers over and over.  He gave me sentimental cards pouring his feelings into them, telling me how sorry he was, that he made a mistake and of course he promised that it would never happen again.  He bought me jewelry, offered to move away with me to start over, told me he couldn’t live without me. 

One time, after I had kicked him out I came home from work to find he had let himself into our old apartment, filled it up with flowers, made me dinner and once again pleaded with me not to leave him.
I was so close to relenting.  I can still close my eyes and remember the good times, the laughs we shared, all the times he tenderly made love to me and I felt like I was the center of his universe.  As crazy as it seems, I know in his own demented way he truly loved me.  I know I loved him. 

That night, I almost gave in; it wasn’t because of the flowers or the dinner, it was the pure anguish I saw in his eyes and the tears that trailed down his cheeks when he begged me not to leave him.  I looked in his
eyes, really looked and the sight astounded me.  I had never seen him cry before; but it wasn’t only that.  I could see the love there.  I could see that he truly wanted to work things out and was pleading for me to stay.  Part of me wanted to give into him.  I could see myself jumping into his arms and telling him we could figure it out and try… really try to make it work.  I wanted to be able to tell him that I forgave him but in the back of my mind I had realized something in our time apart.  Our marriage was a sham to begin with.  The fact that we had made it for four years was a freaking miracle and believe it or not, choosing to stay would have been the easy way out.  Staying was easy. Choosing to move on, the hard part.

I shattered his heart that nig
ht.  I looked him in the eyes and told him once again to get out of the apartment and that I didn’t want to see him again.  I told him there was absolutely nothing he could do to make the situation right and that he needed to just stop.  Stop trying.  Stop buying me things.  Stop coming over.  Stop trying to fix “us,” because it couldn’t be done. We were broken. We were over; the marriage was over.   When all of his efforts failed to work, and he felt desperate, he became mean.

Anger flashed across his face
and he tried to hide it.  His pleading ended up with him calling me names and storming out of the apartment.  I had hurt his pride, set him off; a dangerous combination.

I know little miss blond slut wasn’t Deacon’s first betrayal; I just chose to ignore
the signs that were right in front of my face. I chose to believe the pretty lies he told me.  The excuses ranged from working late, to stopping at the gym or running into an old friend.  When he realized the lies were becoming more frequent he tried to bury my questions and disappointments with flowers, shopping sprees or sex that was driven more by anger than passion.  For a while, I desperately clung to the lies and the illusion that everything was fine.  While his affairs mattered and of course they hurt, the simple truth was that they were only part of the problem.  I didn’t want to be in a marriage that only works when I played dumb and pretended to believe the lies and allowed things to always be on his terms. 

I want more.

I need more.

I deserve mo
re.   

I cannot thank the readers enough for the constant encouragement I receive daily. Interacting with each and every one of you has been such a blessing and I’m so thankful.

My brother, Ryan, isn’t here to see this story. A lot of Ryan Stone is who my brother was. Shy, awkward, very cute (yes I can say that as his sister) and loved by everyone.

The word thank you seems so small when it comes to my best friend, Yvette, but without her, my stories don’t wor
k. She’s my constant and for that I’ll be in her debt forever.

There are plenty of people to thank that held my hand during
Lost in You
.

Miller & Cola – the late night chats and pre-reading helped me through that very rough patch.

Toni – I appreciate every encouraging word and most amazing help ever. I love knowing that I can just hand you a chapter.

Brandon – without your most spectacular images Ryan and Hadley would just be names. Thank you for the amazing promotions.

Jodie – thank you for taking the helms on this one. I owe you!

Sarah – your vision is one of the most amazing aspects of writing. You help create the story with what you make for the cover.

Tasha – thank you taking such an amazing photo and willing to let me put a story behind it. From the moment I saw it. I knew this was fate.

Fallon & Alyssa – good thing your red pen works wonders. Thank you both for the constant support and editing.

There are so many bloggers that I’ve become friends with, but my fear is that I’d forget someone. So… if we talk, text, email, tweet or Facebook – thank you for all your support. I can’t even begin to tell you how much it means to me.

To my family – thank you for being so supportive and
hashtagging our conversations – they make me laugh, even when I’m rolling my eyes. Mom; Dad & Beth book two - I’m on a roll.

Heidi is the author of USA Today, Kobo, Digital Book World, Amazon and Barnes & Noble Bestselling novel,
Forever My Girl
.

Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in
picturesque Vermont, with her husband and two daughters. Also renting space in their home is an over-hyper Beagle/Jack Russell and two Parakeets.

During the day Heidi is behind a desk talking about Land Use. At night, she's writing one of the many stories
planned for release or sitting court-side during either daughter's basketball games.