Just One Moment

by Dena Blake

  She didn’t doubt that Erica missed her, but she was fairly certain that she wasn’t lonely. Erica always seemed to find someone to occupy her time when Chloe wasn’t around. She saw multiple women and didn’t commit to any one of them. She’d made Chloe well aware of that fact when they’d first started dating. When the break happened with Shay, Chloe hadn’t been ready for any type of commitment, so it wasn’t a big deal to her then. That situation hadn’t changed.

  When their meals came, she used eating as an excuse not to talk, but Erica continued to lead the conversation, as usual. Instead of trying to keep up, she let her mind wander. Today had been the best day she’d had in a long time. No worries were clouding her head, and no tension existed between her and Shay. It was just the two of them being them, like they used to be, and she couldn’t wait to get home to see her again. Her feelings completely baffled her.

  “Hey, are you with me?”

  The fork clinked as she set it on her plate. “Sorry. Just got an idea for a new painting and was fleshing it out in my head.” Her second glass of wine now gone, she took a drink of water. She needed her mind clear by the time she left the restaurant.

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “It’s not fully formed yet.” Erica seemed to notice her reluctance to share her thoughts. A glimpse of Shay at dinner looking out onto the marina flashed in her mind. “A watercolor of the marina at sunset. Lots of different lighting shadows to consider.” It would make a beautiful painting.

  “Sounds nice. Should I commission it or wait until it’s done?”

  “You don’t have to buy everything I paint, Erica.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I love your work.” The sweet talk again.

  Would that still be true when she stopped sleeping with her? She’d soon find out. She took one last bite of her pasta and pushed her plate away. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Cannoli?” Erica asked.

  “I couldn’t possibly eat anything more.”

  Erica glanced at her watch. “It’s still early. Why don’t we go to my place? We can open another bottle of wine and talk more there.”

  “Okay. That sounds nice.” She agreed but knew there would be no talking once they got there, and she wasn’t feeling any of that with Erica tonight. During dinner, she hadn’t been able to keep her mind off Shay. The kisses they’d shared earlier had set something within her in motion that she absolutely wanted to explore further.

  Erica insisted on getting the bill and walked with her to her car. She’d followed Erica out of the parking lot but had purposely hung back to catch a red light after Erica had already gone through the green one. Her phone rang a few minutes later, and she ignored it. She knew it was Erica. Her phone chimed again as she pulled into the driveway at home. She took it out of her purse and typed in a quick message.

  Not feeling so good. Went home.

  She held down the power button and turned her phone off before another text message could come through. She’d made her decision to go home as soon as she left the restaurant. She wouldn’t have sex with Erica again until she figured out her feelings for Shay.

  She didn’t see Rachel’s car and the house was dark. Shay must have already gone to bed, she unlocked the door and moved silently through the hallway to check the bedroom, only to find that Shay wasn’t there. That wasn’t strange. She knew Shay was having dinner with Rachel but had thought she’d be home by now. After changing into her yoga pants and T-shirt, she headed into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of water.

  Numerous Chinese-food containers were stacked on the shelf. Rachel must have brought dinner. As she screwed the top off the water and took a drink, she wondered where they’d gone afterward. She looked at the time on her phone. It was close to ten. Thinking she might have missed a text from Shay, she turned her phone on and checked her messages. None from her and several from Erica, which she didn’t read. Her jealousy flared, and she tamped it down. Even if she didn’t trust Rachel’s motives, at least she knew Shay was physically safe.

  She took another drink of water, went into the bedroom, and got into bed. The day had been filled with exhaustingly chaotic feelings. Being asleep when Shay arrived home would be the best way to avoid more of the same.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Shay had brought the laptop Chloe used at the gallery as well as all the current paperwork home with her. Rachel wasn’t due for another hour, so she’d had time to sort through the invoices and receipts. She hadn’t been able to get them all entered into the computer, but once they were in date order, she noticed how many pieces Erica had purchased recently. She did a search through the bookkeeping software on the laptop and found that it wasn’t a recent trend. Erica had started buying Chloe’s art during the fall of the previous year, and the quantity had risen quite a bit since then. Chloe had several other regular customers as well, but none had purchased as many pieces as Erica.

  After texting back and forth with Rachel, they’d decided to stay in and eat Chinese food for dinner. She’d ordered and paid for the food, and Rachel was planning to stop and pick it up on her way to the beach house. When the doorbell rang, she was engrossed in researching the gallery customers. She glanced at the clock, surprised to find it had been close to an hour since she’d texted Rachel.

  Rachel stood in the doorway dressed in white capris and a hot-pink V-neck shirt, holding two brown paper bags of Chinese food.

  “Thanks for saving me from a boring night alone.”

  “Same,” Rachel said as she entered. “I was glad to hear from you, and I’m starving.”

  Shay took one of the bags from Rachel and led her into the kitchen. “Same.” They both chuckled and went to work unloading the bags and setting the food cartons on the table.

  “Where’s Chloe tonight?” She pulled open a couple of drawers. “Silverware?”

  She pointed to the next one down the line. “Dinner with a client.”

  After opening each container, Rachel dropped a spoon into each one before taking the chopsticks from the bag to the table along with a couple of forks. “Oh. Does she do that often?”

  “I don’t recall that she ever did before. I’ve been putting the receipts into the computer, and this one seems to buy a lot of her art.” She took a couple of beers from the refrigerator and held them up. Rachel nodded, and she handed them to her.

  “So, she has a fan.”

  “It appears so.” She hadn’t meant to sound petty, but something about the way Erica had acted today bothered her. Like she had some familiarity with Chloe she wasn’t aware of.

  “You don’t sound happy about that,” Rachel said as she twisted the tops off the beers. She must have caught the tone of her voice.

  “It’s sort of an excessive amount.” She took a couple of plates from the cabinet and set them on the table. “Makes me wonder what exactly she’s trying to buy.”

  “Is she buying for herself or for another business? Maybe she’s an art dealer.” Rachel used her chopsticks to pluck some noodles from the container and drop them onto her plate.

  “I don’t think so. There’s no tax ID on any of the receipts.” She spooned some chow mien onto her plate and then traded containers with Rachel.

  “Did you order orange chicken?” Rachel asked.

  Shay pushed one of the cartons to her before she twirled her fork in the noodles and stuffed them into her mouth. Rachel offered her the orange chicken, and she waved her off. She had plenty on her plate right now.

  “Do you think it’s odd that Chloe never kisses me?”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Hell yes, it’s odd. If you were my wife, I’d be kissing you all the time.”

  Heat rose in her cheeks, but she ignored the comment. “We’re not having sex either. Not since that time in the hospital I told you about.”

  Rachel talked into her plate. “The woman must be crazy.”

  “I kind of get a weird vibe whenever I kiss her. You know, like she’s not al
l in. And if she does let herself go and kisses me back, it gets really awkward when we get anywhere close to going further. She always finds some reason to stop.”

  “Wow.” Rachel dropped her chopsticks onto her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Not the kind of conversation I was expecting tonight.” She raked her fingers through her hair and let out a breath.

  “I’m sorry.” Shay reached over, touched her leg. “I know we have this flirty thing going between us, but I’m hopelessly in love with my wife.” She’d been letting the banter between them persist because it made her feel good about herself, not realizing the impact it was having on Rachel.

  “No. I’m sorry.” She took her hand in hers and squeezed it. “I’m your physical therapist. You don’t owe me anything. It’s inappropriate of me to expect anything more.”

  “You’re more than just my therapist. You’re my friend.” The only friend she had. The only one she could discuss any of this with besides Jackson and Whitney, and they wouldn’t tell her anything Chloe didn’t want her to know.

  Rachel smiled and returned to her dinner. “She seems to be patient and caring. Maybe she’s just worried about your memory issues.”

  “I’m so tired of patient and caring, I’m ready to scream.” They ate in silence for a bit, and Shay found herself lost in thought. She’d cleared most of the food from her plate when she glanced up to see Rachel watching her. “Sorry. I was hungry. I went to the gallery today to help Chloe but didn’t eat much.”

  “I can see that.” Rachel chuckled. “Didn’t you tell me you kept a journal?”

  She nodded as she chewed and swallowed the last bit of chow mein on her plate. “I found them, but there’s nothing recent in the ones here at the beach house.” She relaxed into her chair and took a pull of her beer. “It’s bizarre. I’ve kept journals all my life, and suddenly I stopped six months ago?”

  “Can they be somewhere else?” Rachel pushed her plate away and relaxed in her chair as well.

  “Maybe at the apartment. I would’ve thought we’d have sold the place by now.”

  “Where’s it located?”

  “Downtown Tampa.” She shot up from the table, grabbed her bag, and searched for her keys. She fished them out and held them up by one key. “I still have this.” She looked at each key individually, and they were all the same as she remembered. “I’m gonna go look. You wanna come?”

  “You’re not supposed to be driving yet.”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  “It’s my rule. Remember?” Rachel plucked the keys from her hand and tossed them back into her bag. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Whoops. I forgot.”

  When they arrived at West Park Village, Shay directed Rachel through the area to their multilevel apartment and instructed her to park in front of the single-car garage.

  “Wow. This is a nice area. It seems kind of far from the beach. Are you going to keep it?”

  “That wasn’t the plan. The last I remember, we were trying to sell the furniture because we’d bought new for the beach house, except for certain things. Something must have happened to change that.” She slid the key into the door, hoping it would work, and it did. She pushed open the door, stopped, and glanced around. The furniture was what she remembered. “Anyone home?” She glanced over her shoulder at Rachel. “Don’t want to surprise anyone in case we decided to sublet or just forgot to turn in the key.”

  “Looks clear,” Rachel said as she moved past her to the stairs.

  “Hang on.” She opened the door directly in front of them, which led to Chloe’s studio. For the most part it was empty, but a few items were left—an easel, a stool, some old paints, and a few paintings of Shay on the wall that Chloe had done years ago. Including one of Shay in bed naked only half covered by a sheet. Why are these still here?

  “Is this where Chloe painted?” She moved to the depictions of Shay on the wall. “These are beautiful.” She assessed the nude and seemed to take in the entirety of it. “You look gloriously happy here.”

  “I was.” Chloe had sketched it one morning right after they’d made love. Shay had woken up more than once and found Chloe sketching her.

  She went out the door and up the stairs to the main floor. The living room and kitchen looked the same, so she continued up to the bedrooms on the third floor. Nothing was the same in the master suite. She pulled open the closet, which was half empty. Only her clothes remained, but none of Chloe’s. Suddenly she was dizzy, and she sank onto the bed. What happened? The loss hit her square in the chest, and she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. They had split up.

  “Did you find the journals?” Rachel said as she entered the room. “This is a really nice place. Do you think maybe you decided to keep it?”

  Shay swiped at her face. “I don’t think so.”

  “Wait. Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not.” She launched off the bed and reached for the journals on the shelf at the top of the closet where she’d kept them. The stack was small, probably only a few months’ worth. So, whatever occurred between them had happened about the time these would start. She took the oldest one from the stack and read the first entry.

  Chloe hates me, and I don’t blame her. I hate myself.

  She shook as she continued to read and found out all she needed to know about her own betrayal. This was the journal entry where she had done the act, the deed that had shattered two lives. She immediately noticed the tearstains on the pages and ran her fingers across them, knowing they were her own. She had regretted what she’d done. Tears poured from her eyes. Chloe must have been shattered, hurt beyond repair. She wanted to curl up in a ball on the bed. She had absolutely no reason to be jealous of Erica then or now.

  She heaved out a sob. Chloe was a beautiful woman. She had the right to move on after the love of her life betrayed her—tore her heart out and stomped on it until all the love she had for her drained out. The pain in her heart caused by knowing what she had done to Chloe was unbearable. How could she lose everything in an instant and expect Chloe to be there for her, take care of her without question? Yet she had.

  Rachel came across the room, sat on the bed next to her, and wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

  She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand before she closed the journal and held it tightly in to her chest, leaning into Rachel for support. “This is why Chloe’s so different.”

  Rachel hesitated. “It’s bad, huh?”

  She nodded, scrubbed her face with her hands, and then cradled the book. “I fucked it all up. I just don’t know why.” She glanced at Rachel, who didn’t seem surprised. “You knew this already.”

  Rachel rolled her lips in and tilted her head. “I don’t know the details, but yes.”

  “Who told you? Chloe?”

  “She didn’t want to, but I pressed her.”

  “My God. I’ve been pushing her to be intimate with me. I can’t imagine how difficult this has been for her.”

  “She’s still here, so she must still have some feelings for you.” Rachel tried to console her.

  “What an absolute asshole I am.”

  “It’s not like you remembered and pushed her.”

  “But still.” She shook her head. “Fuck. What am I gonna do?”

  “Do you remember any of this?” Rachel held up the journal.

  The bed shook as she flopped back onto it. “Absolutely none.”

  “Do you still love her? Chloe, I mean.”

  “More than anything in the world.” She closed her eyes. “She crashed into my life, and it’s never been the same since.”

  “In a good way, right?”

  “The best way. It was a fucking miracle. You have to understand the kind of family I came from. I never thought love existed, was even real, until I met her. She swept in and captured my heart—shifted my whole reality. Now I feel like I can’t even hug her.”

  “Wh
y can’t you just start again?” Rachel thumbed through the journal and paused to read an entry. “Would you do it all again?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Then what are you waiting for? Make it work this time. Make her love you again.” She dropped the journal onto the bed and got up.

  “You don’t understand. I didn’t do anything to make it happen before. She did it all. She chased me.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “My life was perfect until I fucked it up.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy.” She picked up the journal. “It’s going to be even harder to read these.” She held it up. “Figure out what went wrong and fix it.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “You can. She still loves you.” Rachel tossed the journal onto the bed and took the rest of the stack from the closet. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not the only one at fault here.”

  “What do you mean? Did she do something too?”

  “That’s not what I said. Relationships don’t fall apart in an instant. Clearly you two had issues leading up to this. A relationship like you’re describing doesn’t break on its own.”

  “I wonder if we were even trying to make it work.” She opened the latest journal and read the last entry. The morning of the accident. The pain in her heart magnified as she read more about what she’d done and how Chloe had found out. What she didn’t understand was why.

  I have to talk to her one more time, get down on my knees and beg her to forgive me if I have to. All I can do is hope she will.

  Rachel hovered over her shoulder. “Looks like you wanted a second chance, and now you have one.”

  “I’m trying to do the right thing here.” Was this really a second chance or just more humiliation for Chloe?

  “Fuck the right thing. You need to do what’s right for you.”

  “I can’t just insert myself into her life if she’s found someone else. What if she’s fallen out of love with me and in love with someone else?”