Race To You
Page 7
And I had been lucky to have him. Yet I had…I gave myself a mental shake. I was not going to go there. The past needed to stay in the past. I cleared my throat.
“What can I do for you, Paul?”
He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and tilted his head in that sheepish manner I had always found annoying. He lowered his head and looked at me from beneath his long lashes.
“I was just in the area and thought I’d see if you were here.”
I frowned and looked at him suspiciously. “I am. Bye.” I turned to go.
He looked up quickly. As he took a step closer, I stepped back. I needed to get rid of him and quickly.
“Wait.”
“Sorry but I’m a bit busy. You know how it can be with weekends when there are a million chores and a ton of other things to do.”
“Gosh Serena! You would think that after the history we have had the least you could do is spare me a few minutes to have a decent conversation.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so abrupt.” I tried to sound as apologetic as I could. “But I am very busy. Maybe one day you could swing by the office.”
He stepped closer still and I forced myself to hold my ground. The more I retreated the closer he would get to the house and then inside… I swallowed hard.
“Well, what I wanted to talk about has nothing to do with business.”
I had to think fast. “Ummm… ok.” I licked my lips nervously. “We could do lunch. I’m free on Mondays.”
“We could talk now if you don’t mind. I’m already here. It feels a bit awkward standing around outside. Could we maybe sit inside where it’s a bit more comfortable?
“No!” It came out sharper than intended and I saw his eyebrows go up. “I-I mean. The house is such a mess and I need to finish cleaning. It wouldn’t be hospitable of me to have you sitting in my messy house like that.”
“Goodness Serena! We were married for Pete’s sake. I know you’re not a slob so chores or no chores your house is fine. Besides, maybe I could pitch in and give you a hand with those mountains of so-called chores. We used to be a great team.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve been missing you these couple of years. I think we let anger get the better of us and sometimes we need to exercise more forgiveness. I mean what happened to us could have been the other way around. Would the result have been the same? Or would we have found a way to get through it and save our marriage? I think I acted hastily in the matter. It took me a few years to get the stick out of my ass and come to my senses, but I have. We all make mistakes, some more than others. But I think we had a good thing going and we just acted rashly.”
“Paul, you were the one who asked for a divorce. Not me.”
“Well under the circumstances could you very well blame me?”
I felt my cheeks grow warm as hot tears filled my eyes. I swallowed against the sudden lump. I composed myself and straightened my shoulders. I looked him squarely in the face.
“No, I couldn’t. You had every right to ask for it.”
“And I’m sorry I did. We could have worked through it. We should have just worked through it.”
“It took you all these years to come to that conclusion?”
“I knew even before I signed the final papers that I was making the wrong decision. But my stubborn and foolish pride wouldn’t allow me to admit that I was wrong to be so hasty.”
“We were both wrong then. But what’s done is done. We’ve both grown and moved on in our separate lives.”
“I know that Serena. But you were a good part of my life for the most part. And I just want to know if we could maybe give things another try and see if we can make it work this time.”
My eyebrows shot up as the enormity of the conversation hit me like a ton of bricks. Paul could not be saying what I thought he was saying. I held up my hand.
“Wait a minute. What are you trying to say here, Paul? I would like to think I’m mistaken, and I don’t want to assume.”
He looked skyward and huffed in frustration. He took another step and I jerked backward.
“You don’t have to keep stepping away from me you know. I’d never lay a hand on you. Do I have to spell it out for you?”
I stared at him blankly.
“You never used to be so difficult. I’d like us to give our relationship another go.”
“Our relationship? Paul, we’ve been divorced for nearly three years. There is no our relationship to give another go.”
“But there could be.”
“No, Paul. There can’t be. We both decided that it was best to go our separate ways.”
He frowned. “Are you saying that you don’t feel anything for me?”
It was my turn to sigh in frustration. “Paul, please don’t do this. You know we loved each other. Keyword – loved. Past tense. We had what we had. It didn’t work. We went our separate ways. What’s done is done.”
His tone took on an edge to it that I didn’t like and more than ever I wanted to get him back into his car.
“Serena let’s be fair. Who was liable in our split?”
“That’s a low blow, Paul. Even for you. Look at us right now. If we’re just having a conversation about the impossibility of getting back together and this is the result, imagine if we did attempt to reconcile. We would be at each other’s throat constantly and inevitably my liability would always become a sore point. I think you should just leave. When you calm down maybe we can do lunch as mere acquaintances…”
“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready to leave, Serena, and not before! The least you can do is hear me out!”
“The whole damn street can hear you out, Paul. Why don’t you just go?” I saw his eyes flicker beyond me, and a shard of fear ran down my spine. I held my breath, not daring to look behind me. I tried not to flinch when I felt Connor embrace me from behind.
“Serena? Is everything okay?”
I swallowed as Paul’s eyes narrowed and Connor’s arms tightened protectively.
“Who the hell is this, Serena?” Paul pointed at Connor.
“I should be the one asking who you are.”
“Paul Dunbar, her husband.”
“Ex-husband,” I bit out hastily. I turned to Connor and stuffed the gym bag into his arms. “Go back inside honey. Paul was just leaving.”
“We go inside when he leaves.” Connor stood his ground as did Paul. The men eyed each other like two bulls about to do battle.
“I didn’t get who you were, honey.” The term of endearment that had slipped out rolled off Paul’s tongue like acid.
“Connor King, Serena’s boyfriend.”
Paul nodded. “Serena’s boyfriend is right. You’re definitely a boy toy. I didn’t know you had it in you to rob the cradle ‘Rena. You’ve gone cougar I see.”
I braced Connor back and pleaded. “Connor, please, just go inside.”
“Yes, Mr. Homewrecker. I’d suggest you do just that.” He turned back to me. “I’m sorry I even thought we could work things out. That load of bull you spilled back then was just that, stinking crap. There was no intention to change was there. The divorce was just a convenient occurrence and then you went right back to your philandering with your little puppy here. Well, you’re both welcome to each other. Boy, what an idiot I was to come here. I should have known you two would be shacking up by now. You must have barely been out of university when you started screwing my wife. But I guarantee this when she gets tired and tosses you out and moves on to someone else, you’ll know exactly how I felt.” He turned on his heel and left. I stood staring at the rear lights as they disappeared down the street. I was afraid to turn around. I held my head down just praying that the last few minutes were a horrible nightmare and I would wake up soon.
“Serena?” Connor’s tone was cold. I took a deep breath and turned. I could not meet his eyes. I was afraid of what I would see there. When at last I summoned the courage to look up what I saw made my heart shatter into a million pieces. Everyt
hing became a blur as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally came pouring out. With a choked sob I brushed past the statue that was once my boyfriend and ran inside.
8
Connor
I sat staring into nothing. The June night was slightly cool. I lounged on the balcony of my seventh-floor apartment in the heart of Brixton as I watched late commuters move to and fro. This was your typical Friday evening. I could usually tell when the eight o’clock train had come in. There would be a heavy flow of traffic along the main as commuters collected their vehicles and made their way home. It was on the weekends that usually came home from training and races and I would have been doing the same. A few weeks ago, I had started a different habit that involved being picked up and spending the weekend with… I cleared my throat as memories swam before me unbidden. It was like a nightmare.
How could something so wonderful come crashing down so suddenly? I thought back to when I had first met her at the party and the vibe and energy I had felt when she had spoken about her passion for real estate. Physical attraction was always commonplace. But Serena’s spirit is what reeled me in. she was so vibrant and full of life and passion it was hard not to be attracted to her. Each time we had looked at a house I had felt that attraction, that pull. And then we finally acted on it. And like the proverbial deck of cards, it came crashing down.
I was still in a mixed state of mind. There were times when I wondered if it had happened. But on nights like this when I sat on my balcony looking at nothing, I knew it was as real as the air I breathed.
That Saturday afternoon I had not given any thought to Serena being outside for so long. I ate and had been about to wash up when I had heard raised voices. At first, I had thought it was the neighbors having some sort of row until I heard Serena’s voice. I had hightailed it outside to find her facing off with an angry man. Instinctively I had moved to her and pulled her into my arms, not taking my eyes off the strange man. Every nerve had been on high alert to get Serena out of danger and take out the attacker should the slightest wrong move be made. No one could have told me that love could flee in an instant and be immediately replaced instead by the cold indifference I had felt when at last Paul Dunbar had gotten into his car and left. The accusation he had leveled at me was unfounded. But those he had leveled at Serena… I took a deep breath. It seemed two weeks was not enough to soothe the sting of the conversation which had unveiled so much. I closed my eyes as I was transported back to that Saturday afternoon.
“Serena?” It was hard to keep my voice from not sounding cold.
She turned but kept her head down. All I could hear reverberating in my head were Paul’s parting words ‘You must have barely been out of university when you started screwing my wife. But I guarantee this, when she gets tired and tosses you out and moves on to someone else, you’ll know exactly how I felt.’ What on earth was he talking about? I hadn’t even known Serena when she was married. Unless of course, he was confusing me… for someone else. She looked up and our eyes met. I knew that what was in mine was breaking her, but I couldn’t help it. She dashed past me and into the house.
On leaden feet, I turned and followed. When I got inside, she was curled up in a corner of the couch sobbing. I took a seat in the other corner and waited. I deliberately made my mind go blank as I did not want to conjecture anything that I was about to hear and pass judgment even before I heard it.
The sobs soon dwindled to sniffles. I waited. I found a spot on the tile between my feet and zeroed my focus in on that. As she spoke, I felt as if someone was sticking pins and needles into the most painful and sensitive parts of my body. I used to think that stories like these existed only in television soap operas. Nothing could have prepared me for the tale I was about to hear.
“I met Jonathan when I was doing a walkthrough. He had come with his best friend who wanted an apartment. I was married for about three years at the time. Paul and I were in a zone where we just weren’t communicating. We were arguing over the smallest things. One of the issues was when we would start our family. I had wanted one right away, but he was always hesitant. The arguments were just endless. It got to the point where just breathing too hard could start an argument. Then one day Jonathan came alone. His best friend had asked him to deputize. I had had a particularly nasty argument with Paul that morning and was feeling a bit low. Somehow, I ended up spilling everything. He offered a shoulder to lean on and a hanky to dry my tears then asked me out for a drink to cheer me up. I figured it couldn’t hurt. Even after his best friend decided on an apartment and I would no longer have the walkthroughs as an excuse, we still met secretly. It was maybe the fifth time that we met that he kissed me. Our make out sessions would become longer and more intense. He was giving me everything Paul was not and for the first time in quite a few years, I had someone listening to me, paying attention to me, being affectionate towards me. And I was happy. Then Paul went to a banking conference overseas for a week. I invited Jonathan over. We used the guest room. He stayed over for two nights. Even after Paul came back, we continued to see each other and have sex.” She took a deep breath. “Then I got pregnant.”
I jerked as it felt as if a boulder had slammed into my heart. “Pregnant?”
She buried her head in her hands and broke down sobbing again. I twisted and untwisted my hands as I waited. I needed to do something with them to maintain control and sanity. I heard her take deep hiccupping breaths.
“I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I told Jonathan. He wanted nothing to do with me. He told me I was trying to trap him. That’s when I found out that he was engaged and would be moving away. In another month he was gone. I tried to cover my tracks.”
I trembled as I clenched and unclenched my fists. “Please tell me you didn’t do an abortion.”
She looked at me with tears streaming down her face and my heart stopped for a fraction of a second. I released the breath I didn’t even know I had been holding when she shook her head.
“No, I didn’t. But I’d be lying if I said the thought never crossed my mind. I-I-I tried to make Paul think it was his. But-but-but he told me that he was sterile and couldn’t have children. So, I must have been playing the whore!” She broke down sobbing again. And again, I waited for her to compose herself.
“So, where’s the child? Adopted?”
She shook her head amidst her sobs. “I never made it past the first trimester. One day I was fine and the next I was bleeding out. Afterward, the doctors said it was the norm for embryos that would have been deformed to abort themselves. It would have been either stillborn or deformed they said.” She rocked back and forth. “But the damage between Paul and I was done.”
“And that’s when he moved out and filed for divorce.” I nodded as I filled in the only piece I had been given in the equation of her marriage.
She nodded. “Yes.”
We sat in silence. So many questions were swirling in my head.
“At what point in our relationship would you have told me all of this?”
She slumped, “I don’t know if I would have told you.”
“What do you mean you don’t know if you would have told me?”
She buried her face in her hands and broke down. “I was afraid you would leave me.”
I took a deep breath as I leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.
I looked into the night sky at the stars that were popping out the way I had looked into that ceiling weeks ago. The stars did not hold the answers either. I had gone upstairs then and packed the bag I had come with for the weekend. From the bedroom, I had called a cab. I had waited by the bedroom window until I saw it pull up at the curb. As I walked downstairs, I held my head straight. She had looked up and I turned to look at her then. I had slipped on my sunglasses and without a word had stepped out of the house. As I closed the door behind me I’m sure I heard a muffled sob. Nothing could have prepared me to feel Serena grab me from behind as I walked down the driveway.
&nbs
p; “Connor! Please! Please…” She wrung her hands in distress. I had no words. Silently I got into the cab. From my peripheral view, I saw her sink to her knees, her arms wrapped around herself as she rocked back and forth. It was not until I had gotten to my apartment that I had allowed any show of emotion. The hangover I had had as I headed back to training the following Monday bore witness of my breakdown. But now that the initial pain and shock had worn off, I was ready to talk.
9
Connor
I had taken the rest of that weekend to process everything that had transpired. By the time I had gone back to training I had become more positive. Finally, I had picked up the phone and dialed her number. It rang once then went to voice mail. Each time I tried it rang once and went to voice mail. By the tenth attempt that day it dawned on me that I was being avoided. But the fact that it rang meant I wasn’t blocked. That was one positive to hang on to.
With each passing day I called, it rang, it went to voice mail. Last weekend I had driven by her house. The driveway was empty. I parked at a convenient spot where I could see both ends of the street depending on which side she chose to come in from. When the night started to fall, I had gone home. I took up my position the next day. Again nothing. I called. It rang once. It went to voice mail.
This past week had been no different. I stepped up my game by deciding to leave voice messages. They were always the same. Hey Annie-girl. It’s Connie-boy. Can we talk please baby? There was no response.