43. Chapter 43
“You sure you don’t mind me staying with you for a bit?”
Dee looks at me like I’m an asshole. “Lizzie, if you ask me that one more time, I’m gonna bitchslap you.”
“OK, OK!” I shrug my shoulders as I pass her in the kitchen and place a box on the island. Sighing, I look around the empty apartment and just shake my head some more.
This is the last haul from the apartment Knox and I shared. Where we built our lives for several years before it all went to shit. After he signed the divorce papers and went all Hulk on the house—our house—we went our separate ways, which I guess was the whole point.
After a few weeks, out of the blue, I got a text from Knox asking if he could stop by and see Kennedy. Just seeing Captain Banana Hammock light up my phone practically stopped my beating heart, and then when I saw what he wanted, I was equal parts disappointed and humored.
Of course, he missed the damned dog. The huge, messy, shedding, barking dog he brought home without my permission and just left me with.
And who I wasn’t giving back. Aside from Dee—well, and Monty—Kennedy is my best friend. During the months before I headed south for winter, he consoled me when I cried, comforted me when I was angry, missed me when I was gone all day and showed me affection when we were bored. He ate dinner with me, watched my favorite TV shows with me, went for walks with me and, yes, he even slept in the bed with me.
But I’m not a total monster. I immediately texted Knox back and told him to swing by that night to pick up Kennedy for the weekend, as long as his dad didn’t mind having the dog at his house. He texted right back that he would be over after work, to which I told him to use his key, and I made sure I wasn’t around. I also made sure I wasn’t around when he dropped Kennedy back off at the apartment a few days later.
I just couldn’t stomach seeing Knox. And I figured he didn’t want to see me, either.
It ended up being about every other weekend that Knox would pick up Kennedy. We joked over text that it was “joint custody.” Eventually our texts became friendlier, leading to longer conversations, and one day I was brave enough to be home when he came to pick up the dog. It was a Friday night in the spring, several weeks after we had last seen each other. I had Jeopardy on the TV while I sat on the couch and tried to act like seeing him would be no big deal. Like my heart wasn’t beating out of my chest.
Knox must have been surprised when he saw my car in the lot when he arrived, because he gave a soft knock on the door, and when I called for him to come in, it took him a minute to enter. He cracked the door open and looked in, pausing for just a minute before he entered.
“Hi,” he said shyly.
“Hi,” I replied, looking over the back of the couch.
At the sound of the door closing, Kennedy bounced up off the couch where he had been snuggling me and ran to Knox, who fell to his knees to greet him, cradling his head in both hands and aggressively scratching behind his ears. “Hey, buddy. Man, I’ve missed you.” A beat passed, and then he said again, “I’ve missed you like crazy.” When I looked back over at Knox, he was looking straight at me.
We both swallowed at exactly the same time. Knox slowly stood and put his hands in his pockets. “You look great, Lizzie.”
I’m sure I blushed. I was just wearing comfy leggings and a Bon Jovi T-shirt, but since I knew I would be seeing Knox, of course, I had freshly brushed hair and recently applied makeup.
We stared at each other in comfortable silence as the air crackled around us, and I cursed the day I learned how good it felt to be loved by him. Because, truth was, I had let go of my anger. I let go of it before he walked out of his dad’s house that terrible day he signed the divorce papers. And since the anger was gone, I was left with a space that was just aching to be filled with something else.
Something happy.
The sound of a car horn snapped us out of our trance and Knox cursed. “Shit! Sorry, I, uh …” he hooked a finger over his shoulder toward the window.
“Oh,” I jumped up from the couch. “Someone is waiting for you, in the truck. Of course! Well—”
“No, Liz—”
“Kennedy’s leash is right by the door, and—”
“Lizzie.”
“He’s got this new squeaky toy thing that’s like half-alligator, half-dinosaur that’s around here somewhere …”
“Lizzie.” I gave it a minute before I braved a look up at Knox. “It’s just Gino in the truck. I’m giving him a ride home from work. I thought you wouldn’t be home, like usual, so I didn’t drop him off first.”
“Sure, sure. I mean, it’s fine. You go. I’ve got, you know, stuff going on anyway.”
“Oh,” Knox straightened up slightly. “Yeah, right. It’s Friday. You probably have plans.”
I looked around the apartment, crossing my arms over my chest, and although I wanted him to think I had more of a life than I actually did, I couldn’t pretend. I replied with a simple “Nah,” leaving my reply vague.
We stared at each other, and the horn beeped again, causing Kennedy to yip and Knox to roll his eyes.
“You better get out there before he has a heart attack,” I said.
Knox massaged the back of his neck with his hand. “Yeah, that would be a crying shame.”
That got a laugh out of me, which made Knox smile. “Well, I guess I’ll just …” Knox trailed off, as he grabbed the leash off the counter and led Kennedy to the door.
I followed them. “If I’m not here Sunday when you drop him off just, you know, use the key.”
“Yeah. Will do.”
“OK.” Knox and Kennedy had exited the apartment and were standing in the hallway, I stood perched at the threshold, one hand on the door, one on the frame.
“OK,” he parroted me. We both swallowed again, and I slowly shut the door.
I made sure I wasn’t around that Sunday. And during subsequent Kennedy exchanges I made sure I was either gone or preoccupied when he came by. Sometimes I dropped the dog off at his dad’s house, and when I did, I made sure to do it while Knox was still at work so I could visit with Clyde. Sometimes Emily would even stop over with the kids.
However, by the summer, I realized I needed more space. It was too much simply knowing he existed in the same city. I prayed I would see him around and then had all the air knocked out of me when I did.
We were ghosts, haunting each other. It wasn’t healthy. And it wasn’t fair to either of us.
So, I talked to Cherice about working remotely for a few months. I told her my mom needed me in Florida, but I’m sure she knew the real reason for my temporarily relocating. She was very accommodating. Of course, beats had to be rearranged, and Zack was more than happy to take over all the court appearances, perp walks and other in-person crime coverage. In return, I covered a lot of municipal meetings by watching the live streams online. I did bigger feature stories that required a lot of research that could be done remotely.
I return to the office this week, and I’m hoping the staff welcomes me back with open arms.
I left Kennedy with Knox for four months while I was away, so Knox and I still had contact. We texted a bit. He sent me pictures of him and Kennedy, and I sent back emojis.
Then one day I got a request to follow him on social media. Well, well, well, I thought. Hell hath frozen over!
When I went to his account, I realized his page wasn’t a personal page, but one for his new company, Knox Mitchell Homebuilding.
Looking through the photos, I saw beautiful images of various rooms in homes and at different stages in the building process. Turns out Knox was in motion to branch away from his dad’s company before he had the divorce papers drawn up. It was a slow transition, because he didn’t want to leave his dad in a bind, but he eventually did it.
And I knew exactly why he settled on the name he did. He wanted to build homes. Not retail or commercial spaces, but homes. Where families are built. I could see it in the details of the homes he showed off in his photos.
Scrolling through, my heart stopped when I saw a familiar setting. A property I had seen many times. One that once had a framed two-story Ranch-style house being erected, until someone took a sledgehammer to it. Scrolling back up toward the top, I realized some of the other photos were of the house, but I just didn’t recognize it.
He rebuilt it.
Ache. The kind that throbs in your ears and carries through your limbs with each pulse washed through me. Did he sell it? Or worse, did he live there?
I didn’t ask him. I didn’t even bring it up. I couldn’t. I didn’t know if I had the right to anymore.
That was when I decided to let go of the apartment. I needed a fresh start. My mom and Leanne begged me to join them in the Sunshine State, but being away from this city felt unnatural. Even if it was the people—or person—holding me here, I couldn’t fight it. If all I ever got to settle the ache for Knox was knowing he was near, I would take it. That’s what we do to ourselves when we’re addicted.
And Knox was a habit I would never kick.
“I might have been wrong. All your crap might not fit in our garage.” The sound of Monty’s voice as he enters the apartment pulls me out of my memories. He’s out of breath as I launch myself at him, and he almost topples backward as I practically hang from his neck. “Missed you too, kid,” he says with a chuckle as he hugs me back, then pats my hair.
“This a new do?” he asks.
“Yeah. What do you think? I was going for something sleek and, oh, I don’t know … adult?” I touch the dark hair I now have in a shoulder-length bob. The stylist did something fancy that gave my hair some shine without actually dying it.
“I love it!” says Dee. “It’s kinda sexy librarian, and I totally dig it.”
I laugh, then look at Monty. This is the first time I’ve seen him since I got back from Florida two days ago. I had a lot of shit to settle, and the landlord wanted me out ASAP, so I’ve been busy. Monty offered to keep some of my stuff in his garage while I crash with Dee, so I don’t have to pay for storage.
“You sure Catherine doesn’t mind me taking up all that space in your garage?” I ask, and he simply gives me an “are you kidding?” look.
I put my hands up, “OK, OK.”
I take one last look around the apartment. “Well, I guess that’s it.” I place the key on the counter, grab the last box and follow Monty and Dee out the door, pausing to give one last glance toward the refrigerator. I made Dee help me move it so I could retrieve the wedding band I flung under it almost a year ago, but it wasn’t there.
There’s only one other person who knew it was there, who had access to this apartment, and who probably wanted it back since he paid for it.
I pull the door behind me and ask Monty and Dee as we all descend the stairs, “So, how’s it been around the office?
“Boring as shit,” Dee says, at the same time Monty answers, “Good.” He takes the box from me.
“Zack’s done well,” Monty continues. “He’s good at taking direction and criticism, and I know he loves covering your beat. Although, his driving scares the shit out of me.”
That gets a laugh out of me as we get to the bottom of the stairs. “You don’t like anyone’s driving,” I point out.
“Hey, when you have your head dangling out the passenger-side window with a very expensive camera in your hands, then you go right ahead and tell me I’m too picky about who’s operating the vehicle I’m riding in.”
“Touché,” I reply.
We get to our vehicles, and Monty places the box he was carrying for me in his back seat. “You guys headed to my place to drop stuff off, or are you going right to Dees?” he asks.
“Um, everything in Dee’s car is stuff I need, so that’s going right to her apartment,” I say. “I have some stuff I need to put in your garage, but,” I pull out my phone and look at the time, “I told Clyde I’d stop by and pick up Kennedy at three and I’m already late, so I was thinking of stopping there first. OK if I stop by later to drop my things off?”
“Yep, we’ll be there,” Monty replies. “Let me know if you can make it for dinner. Catherine would be ecstatic.”
“Hey, I want to come over for dinner!” Dee looks up from her phone, mid-text.
Monty sighs. “Will you be on your best behavior?”
Dee squints her eyes. “No swearing?”
“No swearing, or talk about penises-”
“Peni,” Dee corrects.
“What? Peni? That’s not even a word,” he balks back.
“Is too. It’s the plural for penis.”
“Now you’re just being juvenile. Lizzie, tell her she’s being juvenile.”
They both look at me, and I sigh. “In Latin, they use the term penes, so, technically, you’re both wrong.”
“Well, we’re not in Latin, so I win,” Dee says as she rounds her car, then yells back. “Can I talk about corn?”
“No!” Both Monty and I respond at the same time.
I pull up to Clyde’s a little nervous, but also excited to see my other bestie. I miss that fucking dog, and I’m not too proud to say it out loud. I’m not even out of the car when the front door to the house opens up and Clyde comes jogging out, down the steps, and toward me with open arms. I close the distance between us and crash into his chest, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him close as he wraps his arms around my shoulders. We say nothing, and I cherish the fact I’ve been able to keep my relationships with Clyde, and Bram and Emily and their kids, no matter what situation Knox and I are in.
I finally pull back and get a better look at Clyde and realize he looks fantastic!
“Damn, Dad. What fountain of youth are you drinking from?” His skin, crinkled around his eyes and mouth, has a blush to it. And his eyes are bright, as is his smile. It’s genuine. It’s as if the darkness he has been living under for so long has finally lifted. He’s glowing.
“Oh my God!” I gasp, putting my hands over my mouth. “Are you … Is there a girl? There’s a girl, isn’t there?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Lizzie,” Clyde rolls his eyes and sweeps a hand over his hair, reminding me of Knox. “I’m a grandfather. I don’t date girls. I date women. Women who are old … er, older, like me.”
“But you are dating, women?” I practically sing.
“Woman. One woman. Someone I met over the computer.”
“You’re online dating?!” I swat his chest. “How could you have not told me that when I talked to you on the phone?”
Looking embarrassed, Clyde just shrugs. “Emily signed me up for it. She made this page with a bunch of personal information about me, and she made me put on a nice shirt and took a picture of me outside by some tree, and she put it on there.”
“A profile,” I interject.
“Yeah, that. Anyway, I thought it was stupid, but then Joy and I—”
“Joy?” I hop from one foot to the other wringing my hands. “I love that name!”
Clyde smirks, and he has a glint in his eye. “I know, me too. Anyway, we started emailing and talking on the phone, and, well …”
I don’t finish his sentence for him. I don’t push him to continue. I just wait for it to come naturally.
He sighs. “I feel like I have a reason to get up in the morning again. And I thought I would feel bad about feeling that way, but I don’t. I think Monica would want me to feel this way.” He reaches up and twists the rings around the chain he is still wearing around his neck.
“For sure,” I say. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“We’ll have a barbecue one of these days. Bram and Knox say they are happy for me, but I’m sure it’s got to be weird for them.”
“They’ll come around,” I assure him.
Suddenly realizing someone is missing, I look around. “Oh,” I say. “Where’s Kennedy? He didn’t come running out to greet me. Did he forget about me already?”
“No, no. Uh …” Clyde shoves his hands in his pockets. “He’s actually not here. Knox ended up having the day off, so he’s got him. Asked me to ask you to stop by his place to retrieve him.” He waits a beat before looking me in the eye.
“Oh,” I say. “Uh, Knox isn’t staying with you anymore?”
“No. He’s at the house now.”
“The house.” It’s not a question, because I know exactly what house he means.
“Yeah,” Clyde kicks some loose gravel with his foot. “It turned out really great, Lizzie. He wants you to see it.”
“Oh,” I say again, looking around at nothing in particular. “I, um …” I look at Clyde, and I know he knows how hard this is. “I’m not sure I can,” I say honestly.
Clyde steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. “It turned out beautiful, Lyzbeth. The house. It’s … well, you need to see it for yourself. Don’t let anything ruin that for you. Go see the house that you and Knox built together.” I open my mouth to try to protest, but he cuts me off. “It’s your house. Please, go see it.”
I can’t believe my eyes. In fact, I don’t think I’ve blinked since I pulled into the driveway moments ago. It’s gorgeous. It looks exactly like it did in my mind, but … more.
It’s not huge. It fits perfectly on the plot of land it sits on. A two-car attached garage is right in front of me. From the driveway, a short walk leads around to a front porch that is just big enough to hold a two-person wooden swing next to a beautiful bay window. Little puffs of purple and yellow flowering plants line the walkway and porch and complement the cool gray siding, which is met about two-thirds of the way down to the ground by stonework. White, vine-like flowers overflow from two hanging baskets on either side of the swing. The front door is a red oak color, and instead of shutters, white trim lines the windows and edges.
I open the door and exit the car, but instead of heading up the front walk, I make my way down the driveway toward the sidewalk, then stroll a few steps, just taking in the property. I see the purple and yellow flowers continue on the other side of the porch and around the corner along the side of the house.
The hum of the garage door opening grabs my attention, and I swing my face in that direction as the door slowly rises and Knox comes into sight. I see his light tan work boots, followed by light-colored fitted jeans and a navy-blue T-shirt. His hands are in his pockets, and he is rocking slightly back on his heels as he stares at the floor, then drags his eyes up to meet mine across the yard. His hair is cropped a little shorter.
We stare at each other, and I feel my own grin before I see his start to take shape. I let out a little laugh and slap a hand to my mouth as I put my other hand on my hip and marinate in all the feels I’m having. I tap my fingers against my jean-clad hip as I bring my other hand away from my mouth and cup my cheek with it, shaking my head back and forth as I look at the stunning home Knox build.
Home. Not house.
He starts to take steps in my direction as I say, “Knox, it’s—”
But I’m interrupted by barking and the sound of toenails on concrete as Kennedy comes bounding out of the garage, cuts across the driveway and makes a B-line across the lawn for me. Overwhelmed, I crouch down and open my arms, tears threatening as I wait for him to pounce on me and slobber all over my David Bowie T-shirt. Instead, he comes to a screeching halt about two feet away from me and just barks, then spins in a circle and barks some more.
“Kennedy, bud, it’s me! It’s Lizzie!” I wiggle my outstretched palms and fingers like jazz hands, but he just keeps pacing in front of me and barking.
“Lizzie,” Knox says as he saunters toward us.
“Ohmygod,” I stammer. “He hates me. He fucking hates me!”
Knox chuckles. “No. Liz—”
“I’m sorry, boy!” I shriek. “I just had to go for a little while, but I told you I’d come back! I’m back, buddy. Come on!” And I wiggle my hands again.
Still nothing.
I’m about to lay down and roll right into the middle of the road and wait for someone to eventually run me right the hell over and put me out of my misery when Knox speaks again.
“It’s an electric fence, Lizzie.” I look up at him, and he’s pointing at the little flags in the corners of the yard, then at Kennedy, who is wearing a collar with a little box-thing on it. “If he goes any further, he’ll get zapped. You have to go into the yard.”
“Oh,” I say and, feeling quite stupid, stand up straight and take a giant, high-knee step into the yard—as if I’m actually stepping over some sort of trip wire. I look at Knox, and with one hand he waves me a little further into the yard, so I take another giant step.
With that, Kennedy pounces, and I let him tackle me to the ground where he jumps on my chest and licks my face. “Awe, buddy, I’m back!” I say with doggie slobber on my face. “I missed you, too!” Laying on my back with Kennedy’s paws on my chest and his face in mine, I grab his head with both hands and aggressively scratch behind his ears and tell him how much I love him and how sorry I am that I took off for so long.
Finally, Knox interjects.
“Alright, boy. Think I could say hello, too?” he says as he leans over and gives Kennedy a little nudge off me. The dog takes off to run a few circles around the front yard before climbing the front step and plopping down under the swing.
Knox’s hand appears in front of my face, and I take it and allow him to help pull me up. With an effortless hoist I am pulled almost flush to him, chest-to-chest, face-to-face, and we are both quiet as we stare at each other.
I see him swallow, and he goes to take a step back, but I throw my arms around his neck and pull him close. Without hesitation, his arms come around my torso and squeeze, and I swear I hear him inhale.
“It’s beautiful, Knox,” I say into his neck. “You built a beautiful home.”
“Nah,” he says. “It’s just a house.”
Pulling back, I try to argue. “No, Knox. It’s def—”
“Wanna see the inside?” he interrupts.
I nod. “Yes, I definitely want to see the inside.”
He turns and leads the way toward the garage, but after a few steps I stop dead in my tracks. “Knox,” I say very calmly, and he turns around, then follows my gaze to the truck parked inside. “Is that …” I point toward it.
He laughs and folds his arms over his chest. “It is,” he says, then looks over at the new Ford F-150. “I traded it in. Thought it was time for a change.”
I step up and run my hand along the shiny silver fender. “Nice,” I say, not sure how else to respond.
Knox clears his throat and continues moving forward. “So, obviously you can go in the front door, but when you park in the garage you can just come in through here and come right into the kitchen. So, when you have groceries or whatever, you don’t have too far to carry them.” I note that when he’s saying “you” he just means it in the generic sense, and not actually me.
He opens the door and holds it wide open for me to walk through first. As I brush past him, I stop and turn my head to look at him. Our faces are only two or three inches apart. “This feels eerily familiar,” I say.
“Yeah, well, hopefully this is much better than a scary rape house,” Knox responds.
“We’ll see,” I say as I step inside.
And it is. It definitely is.
The kitchen looks like one you would see in a country home. Dark grayish-green wooden cabinets flank the far wall and are adorned by white marble countertops. The floors are natural wood-colored tongue-and-groove floorboards that match the butcher block on top of the island. A white farmhouse sink and silver appliances offer a nice finishing touch.
Again, it’s not huge. It’s not some industrial kitchen you would find in a restaurant. It’s a kitchen you cook Christmas dinner for your family in. I say nothing as I follow Knox through the open space to a modest oval dining table that rests in front of a sliding glass door. I run my hand over the light wood as I walk over and glance out the back doors, to find a back porch with two red Adirondack chairs and a grill. Further out in the yard, I see a fire pit.
Knox clears his throat, and I look at him. “Uh, so, it’s not too far from the kitchen to the porch, so when you’re grilling and you need more seasoning or a knife or whatever … you know, it’s right there. And the porch is under an overhang, so you can still sit out there when it’s raining.”
I nod. I know my muteness is making Knox nervous, and that’s not my intention. I just don’t even know what to say. It’s perfect.
We come around to a living room large enough to comfortably house a full-size couch, loveseat and recliner, all nestled around a coffee table and facing a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall adjacent to the bay window. Between the back sliding doors and the large front window, the space is filled with natural light, so bright and warm.
The floors are still the light-colored hardwood, but a huge, salmon-colored rug stretches throughout the living room, making it feel even more cozy.
I crouch down and run my fingers through the shag, then look up at Knox. “Didn’t peg you for a guy who would pick a pink rug,” I joke as I stand.
“It’s peach!” he barks out. “The lady at the store said it’s trendy right now, and it would go well with the floor and the cool tones of the color palette or some shit.” He’s laughing by the time he finishes his sentence. “And you know what? It kinda grew on me, OK? I kinda like it.”
I’m laughing now, too. “I like it too, Knox. I like it a lot. Really, this is all just—”
“Come on,” he says, steering me by my elbow toward the open stairs. We climb to the top and he tells me to head right into the master bedroom. This, however, is not as I pictured it would be. A queen-size bed rests against the far wall, and is neatly made with big fluffy pillows arranged on top. The two windows have poofy curtains drawn back with lacy ties. It’s beautiful, but very feminine. Very me.
I can’t help but wonder how long it took him to make the bed so neatly this morning, seeing as he never made his bed in the mornings all the years we were married.
“The closet,” he pulls me out of my thoughts, “is huge. There are two rows of racks so you can hang pants on the bottom and shirts on the top, and then shoes or whatever on the shelves up top.” He hinges open the door as he says this, and I notice there’s hardly anything in there, but I guess that’s typical, since Knox lives in his work clothes anyway. They are probably all shoved in a dresser drawer.
“And, as requested, you can access the master bath from here.” Knox turns around a little corner and I find him standing in a big bathroom with “his and hers” sinks in front of a large mirror. The vanity is white, and the hardware is silver. A large walk-in tub with a shower attachment rests behind a frosted-glass door, and a toilet is nestled in the corner. A painting of an abandoned boat on a shore is hung on the wall, and is a nice touch.
“This is fantastic,” I say, looking around and then catching Knox’s eyes in the mirror. We stare at each other until he finally breaks it, running a hand through his short hair.
“Then, this door leads to the hallway, where the other rooms are.”
Again, I follow him into the hallway. He just points into the first room we pass, which has a desk, and boxes piled up on the floor. “I figured this could be your home office. So maybe you could come home and finish some of your stories, instead of staying late at the office and coming home in the dark.”
“My office?” I ask.
But Knox just keeps talking. “I didn’t know how you wanted it arranged. Anyway, the spare bedroom is over here.”
I follow him to the next room at the end of the hallway. Inside is an unmade bed. It has a simple headboard, with matching nightstand and dresser. This room has one smaller window with a cute valance with small daisies on it.
“I guess some things never change,” Knox says as he walks over and starts to haphazardly straighten the bedsheets. “I fucking hate making the bed.”
Slightly perplexed, I put my hands on my hips. I look behind me, as if I can look through the walls to the rest of the house, then back at Knox making the bed, and he stiffens.
“What?” he asks. “What is it? Do you hate it? We can change anything, Lizzie. Is it the wall color? The layout? That’s a little harder to change. We stuck to the layout we talked about, but we could still make adjustments.”
I shake my head and put my hand up to stop him. “You’re sleeping in here?”
He nods, like he doesn’t understand why I’m asking.
“Why aren’t you sleeping in the master bedroom?”
Now he tries to look through the walls. Bringing his face back to mine, he shrugs. “This is your house, Lizzie. I always knew it would be. From the moment I saw the lot. I’ve just been keeping it occupied until you got here.”
Then, I see them—they must have slid out the top of his shirt when he leaned over to make the bed. My wedding band and engagement ring hang from a sleek silver chain around his neck.
I suck in a quick, sharp intake of air, and Knox must follow my line of sight because he quickly tucks the rings back under his T-shirt. “I, uh—” he starts, but I interrupt him.
“I wondered if you came back and got it. My ring. I looked for it when I packed up the apartment.” He nods, then brings his hand back up and fiddles with the chain. He blows out a shaky breath, and I continue, “I thought maybe you wanted to sell it.”
Knox’s eyes snap up to meet mine, and he shakes his head. “No one else will ever wear these rings, Lizzie. If they’re not on your finger, then they’re around my neck. No one else will live in this home. If you don’t want to live here, I get it. It’ll break my fucking heart to see it lay dormant, but I understand. But no one else will live here. Not even me, if you’re not here.”
We stare at each other for a moment, then he takes a few steps to come around the bed toward me. He takes my shoulders in his hands and leans down and kisses my forehead. “This is your home, Lizzie. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and that will never change.”
Then he turns and walks out of the room.
It takes me a moment to gather myself, but when I do, I come out of the room and head toward the stairs. I see him down in the living room, staring out the front window, hands in his pockets. I sink down until I’m sitting on the top step. My feet are on the stair below my butt, and I rest my elbows on my knees.
“I’m not,” I say quietly.
Knox quickly spins and faces me.
I swallow. “Happy, that is. I mean, I guess maybe I’m happy. I’m not unhappy, at least. I feel like the distance—” I gesture with one hand between me and him “—has helped to clear my head, maybe.” I look down and pick at my fingernails, then blow out a breath and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, but it just falls back in my eyes. “Florida was great. The sun. The warmth. Leanne had a baby, I’m not sure if you knew that.”
“Yeah, you mentioned she was pregnant in one of your texts,” Knox strolls over to the bottom step and rests an elbow on the railing. “I figured she must’ve blown, what, a month ago?”
I nod. “Yeah. Gerry, they named him. Not Gerald. Just Gerry.”
Knox nods and repeats the name, “Gerry,” like he’s trying it out on his tongue. “I like it.”
“Yeah. Anyway, it was nice. Being with family. And still being able to work. I feel like keeping that connection to this city really kept me grounded. Reminded me I wasn’t on some permanent vacation, you know? Head in the clouds and all that.”
Knox just stares at me.
“Total honesty?” I ask.
He nods slowly. “Just try not to kill me with it,” he says softly. His eyes are pleading, and I see his vulnerability.
“I let go of my anger a long time ago. I just realized, at some point, it wasn’t worth it. Either I hate you and that’s it, we’re done. Or I let it go and you and I move on, together. And the thing is … I don’t want to move on, Knox.”
Knox tips his head like he doesn’t understand.
“I don’t want to start over. I want all of our past. I want our first date and our first romp—even if we don’t remember it—” I pause as Knox lets out a laugh. “I want both proposals. I want our breakups. I want all our loss and all our love. Even all our indiscretions. But, Knox, I don’t want to be weak. How do I get to have all of that with you without being weak?”
Knox is staring up at me from the bottom of the stairs, and just when I think he might slowly stalk up them toward me, he shocks me by bounding up them two at a time until—in just three lunges—he is crouched in front of me, his hands on my forearms as my own hands hang between my knees. He sinks his neck slightly into his shoulder blades so he can look me right in the eyes.
“My turn?” he asks, and I force a hard swallow and move my head up and down marginally—I’m surprised he can even see it.
“You are the strongest person I know. If our roles had been reversed. If you … had …” I watch him swallow and force out the rest of the sentence. “… been unfaithful, I wouldn’t have survived it. I would have fucking killed the guy, that’s for sure. I would have definitely ended up in jail. I might have been so full of vengeance and anger I would have spent the rest of my life making sure yours was a living hell. I would have pushed everyone else in my life away out of spite. And I definitely would have used it as a reason to get high.”
Knox wets his lips and continues. “I love you more today than I did when we stood in City Hall and promised each other forever. And that’s saying something because young Knox was really smitten with you.” That gets a chuckle out of both of us.
“I love you more now because even though the things I did should have had you destroying any vision of that future, since I didn’t hold up my end of the promise, instead, you carried that weight. You carried it for far longer than you should have. And eventually that shit gets heavy. And I signed those divorce papers because I wanted to take that weight off you.”
Knox takes my face in his hands and uses his thumbs to sweep away some more tears that I can’t seem to keep from falling. “Lizzie, I loved you the most I ever had on the day I signed those papers. Don’t ever think that was me not loving you.”
He continues to stroke my cheeks. “And I settled some things in my head, too. You and me, we’re a team—no matter what our marital status is. I will understand if I have to wear your rings around my neck for the rest of my life. But I will still be in your corner. I promised you forever, and I’m not going to break that promise.”
Slowly, Knox brings his forehead to mine and rests it there for a moment. “Now,” he says. “There’s one thing we need to circle back to.” He pulls back and looks me in the eyes.
I pull my brows together, not able to put all my thoughts together. “A lot of things were just said, and I’m a little bit in shambles right now, so I’m gonna need you to recap,” I say, repeating words he once said to me.
Knox grins and caresses my cheek with his thumb. “You never signed the divorce papers, Lizzie. So, we aren’t legally divorced. We haven’t been all this time. Was that just an oversight, or …” His eyes dart back and forth between mine, searching, pleading, desperate.
I shake my head in his hands slightly. “I couldn’t,” I breathe out. I reach my hands up and wrap them around his wrists. “Knox,” I whisper. “I’m scared.”
“Baby, look at me.” He tips my face up to his, and his eyes glisten. “Give it all to me, OK. Let me carry it all for a while. Make me be the strong one. Make me earn it back. Everything you gave me before, make me work for it.”
“I won’t survive another blunder, Knox. I swear to God—”
“Neither will I, Lizzie.”
I pull back further from Knox, needing to take a breath of air that isn’t recycled with his. As I do I pull his hands from my face and cup them in mine. “Knox, do you believe in …” My thoughts are interrupted when I see, over Knox’s shoulder and out the front window, a car pull up in front of the house. I pull my brows together. “Knox, there’s a car out front.”
“Huh?” he turns and looks. “That’s weird.”