Chapter 14 #3
“Don’t be sorry.” Chat jiggled his legs. “It’s a Saturday. You can do whatever you want. No judgment. Have fun.”
Danika took a more confident sip, happy to be a passenger in her own mind.
“I especially appreciate it because, well, I don’t want to put you in a weird spot, or overshare,” she said, knowing on some
level that was exactly what she was doing, “but today is a tough day for me. Today is sixteen years since my father killed
himself.”
Chat’s legs slowed to a stop.
“And it’s so bizarre, because I was sixteen at the time, and it’s been another sixteen years since, which means that day is now the exact midpoint of my life.
I feel so strange, like from now on, I’ll be further away from him than ever.
” This was the first time Danika had put these feelings together, the first time she’d found the right words.
Even if the anniversary of his death wasn’t until the following Tuesday, July eighteenth, everything else was true and newly clear in her mind.
“Mrs. Crawley.” Chat scooted forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Danika.” His eye contact was so heavy, she had to
blink. “I’m so sorry.”
Danika felt blood rush to her face. She’d never heard him say her first name before—his voice sounded just the same, an echo
of the past. Danika picked up her glass, her arm shaking.
“Thank you. It was a long time ago, obviously, but it’s still a tough day. Even more so because—you won’t believe it; I still
can’t—but it’s also the same date that I officially got divorced from my first husband, signed the papers.” She raised her
eyebrows and took another sip. This was true of the real anniversary, but not today. “Ironic, right? Not exactly my best day.”
She almost told him this was why she hated the number eighteen but caught herself at the last minute, remembering today was
only the fifteenth.
Danika went quiet. Then, she laughed out loud, shaking her head—at her heartbreak, at her reckless admission. What am I doing? she suddenly thought, sobering. She hadn’t meant to share this. She really had not. She was fully out of control now, some
inner demon reaching out its arms to pull Chat closer—closer to her secrets and truest self.
“It’s a lot of loss. A tough day, week, month, really.” She slipped out a breath and batted her hand in the air, trying to
backtrack.
“Danika,” Chat repeated. He reached one hand out to her knee. She stared down at his fingers. It turned silent as a low heat
settled in the base of her stomach.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” Danika whispered. She continued clutching her glass as she stared at Chat’s hand on her leg. She felt the pressure of each of his individual fingers, as if his fingerprints were burning through her jeans into her skin, making her his.
“It’s okay.” He squeezed her knee with his whole hand as he looked up at her, his head tilted to the side as if she were a
hurt child.
“But, Chat, you have to promise me,” she said slowly, “not to tell Bill.”
“What?” To Danika’s dismay, Chat dropped his hand.
“Bill,” she repeated, talking faster. “He cannot know about the divorce, that I was married before. It’s a long story, but
he’d loathe me if he knew.” Her panic was peaking now—because it was true. This was why she had not mentioned her divorce
to a soul in Aldon Lakes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me.” She smoothed her hair solemnly. “I shouldn’t be putting
this on you. It’s just, this day. But I do need you to promise me. You know how religious Bill is. I know it seems dramatic, but it would be a mess.”
“Don’t worry.” Chat’s expression grew more focused. “I’m here for you. Really. I can keep a secret.”
Danika stared at him.
“Don’t worry,” Chat repeated. He scooted closer to the edge of his chair, and Danika couldn’t help but find comfort in his
concern. He did care about her; his sympathy felt genuine—their connection real. It made her feel worthy and loved.
Danika didn’t know what to say next, but before she could speak, Chat stood.
For a second, she was terrified he was turning to leave, but as he rose and opened his arms, she understood, clarity washing over her like sunlight.
She set down her glass. Stood to meet him.
Embraced him. She thought she might cry as she rested her cheek against his chest. And as she clung to him, turning her face inward, clenching her arms around his strong, curved back, she became fully lost in the memory of touch—fully transported in time.
She could almost smell her old high school house, that beat-up pickup truck, the T-shirts she’d steal to sleep in.
As another beat passed, she felt so disconnected from her body that, without hesitating, she suddenly leaned up and pressed her lips to the space below his jawline, the tip of her tongue meeting the salt of his skin.
It took a few seconds before he spoke. But more than her name, what finally snapped Danika back to reality was the feeling
of his throat tensing under her mouth. She jumped back.
“Oh my god, Chat, I’m so sorry.” She pressed her hand to her forehead, turning toward the windows. “I must be losing my mind.
I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Chat stepped forward until they were inches apart again. “Seriously. This is a tough day. Don’t think
twice about it.” His expression was so assured and steady that, to Danika’s surprise, she let her shoulders relax.
“I promise I’m not coming on to you.” Her eyes filled as she tried to laugh.
Quickly, Chat pulled her into another hug—but this time, her arms were at her sides, so as he wrapped his arms around her
body, it was as if she were in a straitjacket, forced to calm down. It worked. He rocked them side to side, shifting their
weight from one foot to the other.
“I know, I know,” he said over the top of her head. She held her breath until he pulled away. Still, he kept his hands on
her shoulders as he leaned down to look straight at her. “It’s really okay.” He shook her shoulders once, teasing, dissolving
any last awkwardness.
Danika rubbed her nose.
“Though, you know, anyone would be flattered if you were coming on to them.” Chat dropped his hands, smiling. “You know you’re beautiful. That anyone would be an idiot . . . any guy would be an idiot . . . to let you go. Your ex”—he studied her—“it’s his loss. I mean it. You’re amazing.”
Danika’s breath shuddered as she suppressed her emotions.
“And look”—he glanced to his watch—“there’s only six hours left in the day. It will be over soon. Why don’t you go finish
Frozen with the boys? You’ll never guess what happens.”
Danika laughed for real. They’d all seen Frozen too many times to count.
“Okay. I hope it’s a happy ending.”
Chat was the one laughing now. “Me too.”