Chapter Fourteen #2
"He tried. He tried to take everything. Stephanie kept him from touching anything that had been mine when we got married. Fortunately, I'd been pouring almost all the profits back into the café. I pay myself a small salary, but I wasn't saving for a house yet.
"Tommy had a nice place and we'd been living there, so it made more sense to reinvest my profits.
Stephanie kept him from getting the business, but he dragged it out as long as he could, hoping to drain my reserves until I couldn't afford to fight anymore.
By the time it was all over, my savings account was pretty much empty.
I had a nice shiny divorce decree, the café, and not much else. "
"You didn't go for alimony," Chase said, as if he didn't need me to answer.
"No, I didn't. I didn't want anything of his. I only wanted him to go away. And I couldn't afford it. Going after alimony would have meant more billable hours and I could barely pay Stephanie’s fee as it was.”
"How long ago was your divorce?" Chase asked.
"Three years. It's hard to believe it's been that long. When I left him, I moved upstairs and I focused on work, saving money to build back my emergency fund, and later to buy a house. After the divorce, I didn't want to date again. It seems simpler not to. I can't go through that again."
"Why is he bothering you now? What was that about tonight?"
"If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t say anything," I said.
I didn’t need Chase running home to Winters House and spreading stories about Tommy and me. Tommy was my mistake, not theirs.
"I don’t know if I can do that when I don’t know what you’re going to say."
That was one of the things I loved about Chase. He was honest with me, even when I didn’t want to hear it.
"Then I’m not telling you," I said quietly. "I’m not trying to be a pain, but Jacob is getting married in a week and I don’t want this bothering him."
"He wants an invite to the wedding," Chase guessed.
I should have known he'd figure that out if I mentioned Jacob. The long day was muddling my brain.
"Yep. I just have to ignore him until the weekend, and he’ll forget about me again."
"Until he wants something else," Chase said, through gritted teeth.
"Pretty much."
"That’s bullshit."
"That’s Tommy. He thinks I owe him because I ruined his life. You know, because I was such a horrible wife."
I hated the bitterness in my voice. I wanted to be done with it. Done with Tommy. But he refused to let me go.
Chase sat back and picked up the slice of cake. I would have thought he was completely relaxed, but the muscle on the side of his jaw ticked as he carefully, precisely, pressed the side of the fork into the cake and cut off a bite. He chewed and swallowed in silence before he spoke again.
"What's your plan then?" he asked, his voice neutral. "You're going to stay single for the rest of your life? Be married to the café? Are you going to take a bag of coffee beans to bed at night? Grow old and gray by yourself?"
I pressed my forehead to my knees and didn't answer.
I didn't have an answer.
Did I want to grow old alone? No, of course not. Who does?
But if the alternative is what happened with Tommy? Yeah, alone sounded pretty good.
Chase wasn't going to let it go.
"You can't let one guy ruin your life, Annabelle.
If you don't want to date me—okay, I don't get that because I think we'd be great together.
The more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you—but if you don't want to date me, fine, I'll figure out a way to live with that.
But you can't let this guy steal the rest of your life from you. You deserve better than that."
"I'm not letting him steal the rest of my life," I protested, suddenly angry. "I'm not giving him anything else of mine. Not him and not any other man. I'm keeping what I worked for. I'm keeping what's mine. I'm living my life the way I want to, and no one's going to take that from me."
"And it doesn't get lonely?"
I mumbled into my knees, not wanting to look at him.
"What was that?" he pressed.
I said grudgingly, "Loneliness isn't the worst thing in the world."
"No, it's not," he agreed, "but it's not that great, either."
"Look, I do like you, Chase. I like hanging out with you. I like having you around. But I feel like you're biding your time until I agree to go out with you, and I don't want to play you like that. Because it's not going to happen. It's not. And if you're looking for someone—"
My voice cracked and I swallowed hard. "If you're looking for someone, a relationship, you're wasting your time with me."
"What if I say I'm okay with being friends?"
He wasn't okay with it. I already knew he wasn't. "Not if you're saying we're friends but you’re really waiting for me to change my mind."
"What if I promise not to push?"
I started to argue back, and he interrupted.
"You can't control my feelings, Annabelle. You can't tell me not to be attracted to you. You can't tell me not to like you, not to enjoy your company. You can't tell me I shouldn't want to see you at the end of the day.
"You can ask me not to push. You can tell me, honestly, that you don't want to go out with me, and I can agree to accept that. But you can't control my feelings. And I can control my actions."
He was making sense. But he was also talking his way around my objections. "As long as we understand each other," I said, thinking we didn't understand each other at all.
"Fine," Chase agreed. "So you should go to Jacob and Abigail's wedding with me."
My mouth dropped open, but before I could launch into an argument he cut me off again, raising his hand, palm out.
Did he give me the hand?
I was gritting my teeth when he said, "As friends.
Just as friends. I'll keep my hands to myself, and I won’t expect a kiss at the end of the night.
I promise. I just want someone to hang out with.
Half of Atlanta is going to be there and almost everyone I know is in the wedding party. Unless you already have a date."
"I wasn't planning to bring a date," I said, shaking my head slowly, knowing his plan was full of holes and a terrible idea.
"It'll be fun," he cajoled. "I'm a good dancer. I bailed out of dance class early on, but I can still manage some moves. I won’t drink too much and embarrass you, and if you want to drink too much, I promise I won't take advantage. Scout's honor."
"Were you a Scout?" I asked, with one eyebrow raised.
"I got kicked out. But I still have my honor."
I stared at him for a very long time, the gears in my brain turning sluggishly, the voice in the back of my head telling me to say yes, say yes and every ounce of caution, every scarred piece of my heart, cringing in fear.
Finally, I opened my mouth to speak and heard myself say, "Okay. Just as friends."
"Just as friends," he agreed, but I already knew he was lying through his teeth.