Chapter 36
DRESS HANDKERCHIEF
Trina
Rushing through Chase’s home with an aching heart, I stave off a torrent of tears as I grab my lotion and toothpaste, then send a quick text.
This is so ridiculous, the way I feel. It was nine days. I shouldn’t feel a thing, and yet my throat is terribly tight from fighting off all these emotions.
I call a Lyft, then beeline into Chase’s gigantic room, squinting so I don’t have to see every single corner of the place that feels like my new home.
I grab the few shirts I left here, then I hightail it back to the guest room I never used.
I toss my clothes into my duffel bag, then a few books, and I stop, frozen as I stare at all these gifts.
What do I do with these dresses they bought me the other night? I hold up a red one with pockets. Ugh. I want to bury my face in it and use it as a handkerchief to soak up all the waterworks I’m holding back.
“Take them. They’re yours,” Chase says from the door behind him.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I want more than dresses, you idiot.
“But you don’t have to leave tonight,” Chase adds, perhaps trying to lessen the blow.
Good luck with that, buddy.
“It’s fine,” I chirp.
“Trina, I didn’t mean to suggest you had to go now,” he says, trying again.
But I do. I really do. I stuff the dresses into the bag. “It’s no problem.”
He sighs, then asks, “Can I help you with anything?”
This is who he is. The helper. Giving me a place to stay, helping with my sex woes, and then offering to sort out this new mess.
It’s hard to be mad at him for not wanting me the way I want him. For not falling for me the way I fell for him.
His heart is in the right place, but I still shake my head, squeaking out an “I’m fine” as I shove the rest of the clothes into my duffel.
I shouldn’t be upset because no one made any promises. No one offered me a single thing. Both of these guys were totally upfront from the get-go. This was just sex. This was just a week of fun. This was just a to-do list, and we did it all and more.
I’m the idiot who got caught up. I’m the one who saw a happy ending that was definitely never on the list. And I won’t overstay my welcome ever again.
After I zip the bag, I rush back to the living room, scoop up my dog and snap on his harness, then hunt for his leash as he tilts his head, as if asking what’s up.
I stop to pat him for a sec. It’s not his fault I was rejected. “I love you,” I whisper to my trusty companion.
From the kitchen, the too-familiar voice of Ryker says, “Let me drive you. It’s safer that way.”
Nope. Don’t need it. Don’t want it. He’ll see me cry then. They can’t know that I was about to put my foolish, silly, anything-goes heart on the line for both of them. “My Lyft will be here soon,” I say, as breezy as I can.
But as I hook on a leash to my pup, Ryker comes to my side, the remnants of his forest scent tugging on my aching heart.
“I’ll carry out your stuff,” he says as Chase returns to the kitchen and Ryker shoots him a damning look.
I shake my head adamantly as my phone pings, telling me my Lyft is pulling up. “I’ve got it.”
I don’t need an escort to this relationship execution. I won’t let him play the part he wants to play. The protector. Like he’s protecting me from Chase now. They are exactly who I thought they would be and I can’t fault them.
“It’s all fine,” I add, then press my lips together so I don’t let other words fall out like I fell in love with both of you.
With my loyal dog by my side, I march to the door, my life packed up in a matter of minutes. In the entryway, Chase gives me a pleading look. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that you had to leave tonight,” he says, trying once more.
“It’s all fine,” I say brightly, as brightly as I possibly can. “I have things to do. It won’t be a problem.”
A second later, my hand is on the knob, my heart is in my throat, and the most wonderful week is circling down the drain.
This is over. It’s over exactly how it was supposed to be—with me leaving.
But in a flash, I know if I walk out the door like this, it’ll be as if these nine, eye-opening, earth-shattering, heart-expanding days never happened.
An hour ago, I was ready to put my heart on the line. Now I know they don’t feel the same way. There was never a future.
I’m not going to walk out that door denying what I learned about myself with the two of them. Yes, I found a Golden Retriever and a grump. But I found myself too.
Our time will fade into the past, but I’m going to own who I am. Chin up, I turn around and look them both in the eyes, and I say, “Goodbye. I was falling for both of you.”
Before anyone can say another word, I leave, slamming the door behind me. As I walk down the front stoop to the car that’s cruising down the block to save me, the tears start to come. They sting the back of my eyes first, prepping to slide down my face. But the door creaks from behind me.
I hold my breath.
A voice calls out, “You forgot his toy.”
Oh. My shoulders sag.
Ryker’s bringing me a dog toy. That’s all.
I don’t even turn around. When he reaches me, he hands me the stuffed monkey.
When I finally raise my face, he’s holding my gaze like he’s trying to say something without words.
Something important. But the only word that comes out of his mouth is a sad, broken “Trina.”
I shouldn’t say anything. Truly, I shouldn’t, but I do anyway. “Was this as good as I thought?”
His gaze is as intense as his voice when he says, “Best week of my life.”
Somehow my heart hurts even more. “And now it’s over.”
He says nothing as I grab the door and get in the car with Nacho. We head into the night, away from my two loves.
Away from my best friend too. Aubrey’s out of town for the night, and I have no other choice but to go to my sister’s place.
When I arrive, I am a mess in every sense of the word. Tears are streaming down my face, my makeup is ruined, and my heart is broken as I set my dog down on Cassie’s perfectly polished hardwood floors.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch at the sight of a pet in her home.
One hand on her giant belly, Cassie lets me in, with an I knew you’d wind up here look on her face. “I’m glad you texted. You know you always have a place with me,” she says.
And the sad thing is, I do know that. She is constant.
“It’s only one night. I’m moving into my place tomorrow,” I say, since this is just a stop gap.
“Stay as long as you want,” she says, perhaps wanting to save me from me.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine,” I say, but my voice is breaking.
She ushers me into the living room and hands me a tissue. “You don’t look fine. What happened? I knew that guy would break your heart. I knew it was a bad idea. I just knew it,” she says, like she’s going to beat up those jerks on the playground.
Only, she doesn’t know there were two jerks who did this to me. With a sigh that breaks me, I just let out a raw, “I know.”
“Let me give you a hug,” she says.
I let her because she’s here with an open door and at least in her own bossy, annoying, judging way, she’s fighting for me.
The men I fell in love with did not.