D
Coming to the end of her letter, I find non-stop tears pouring out of my eyes. I still don’t wipe them away.
All I feel is regret and, I guess, the bastard in me feels relief.
Regret that she overheard my conversation with Jace, regret that because of what she overheard, she’s lost all trust in me and truly believes that I don’t love her. The relief I feel is because I don’t have to face her. I don’t have to tell her what’s happening in my life to screw up the life I wanted to build with her.
Even thinking all that, I’m still not sure I’m going to be able to walk away from her without seeing her, and maybe talking to her.
I need to stop being an ass and pull myself together so I can go and find her. Instead of being a chickenshit, I need to face my damn problems, instead of letting them drown me.
Dahlia really is my heart. I need to know where she is so I can make sure she stays safe, and so I know where to go to get her back when my shit really is all in the past.
Dahlia
Running to Mia turned out to be the perfect decision. At least, I think it is.
Although she spent nearly an hour trying to talk me out of running without telling anyone, and trying to get me to stay and talk to Ryder, she finally gave in when she realized I needed out of there.
So that’s how I discovered that Mia’s father owns a house in Portsmouth, and within ten minutes, I had the keys in my hand and a flight booked, again thanks to Mia.
The house is free and I can stay for as long as I want.
I hadn’t planned on running too far, just far enough to think without bumping into Ryder or Reece. I need to carry on without Ryder in my life, and to decide what I’m going to do about our baby. Do I tell him I’m pregnant? Or wait and tell him after the baby is born? I’ve never been so torn in my entire life.
I’m probably going to have to tell him sooner rather than later because I don’t have the funds to support a child. I have some savings, which I’m using while I’m here in Portsmouth. At least I don’t have to pay rent, as Mia wouldn’t hear anything of it. The house was just sitting empty.
If I hadn’t wanted to just leave and get away before Ryder had chance of finding me, I’d have insisted on her taking something, but I hadn’t. In a way, I’m glad because my funds aren’t as healthy as I’d like.
Portsmouth is a beautiful town and while it was starting to shut down, I know in summer, the yachts will be constantly on the water, at least that’s what all the locals have been telling me. I’m also finding it peaceful and a different way of life than back home in Alabama.
I’ve only been here three days, and other than stocking up on food, I haven’t left the house.
The back of the house has a screened in patio and a pool, which is covered during the winter months. The gate at the back, leads onto what would be a golden sandy beach, but now it’s covered in snow. It’s below freezing outside with icicles hanging from the garage.
After the first day here, where I cried most of the day, I decided, for the good of our baby, to pull myself together. Heaven knows what harm my upset can cause to our unborn child.
I may slip up when I’m in bed at night craving Ryder’s arms around me, but during the day I’m not doing too badly. If I’m upset, I can’t eat, and I need to eat to make sure our baby grows.
The solitude of the location I relish.
The intrusion of the guy who’s just moved in next door is unwelcome. He moved in yesterday and I think the whole of Portsmouth must have heard the racket made. Hopefully, he’ll keep to himself and not be one of those people who have to introduce themselves to the friendly neighbors. That title doesn’t apply to me.
But I’m sure I have enough manners to make him a coffee before sending him on his way. I’ll just have to make sure he understands I want to be alone. I can be polite about it, maybe. I hope that he’ll like decaf, as that’s all I’ve bought. It’s horrid but I’ll have to get used to it, and I plan on drinking more water. I might as well start being healthy from the get go.
Which brings me to the fact that I need to find a doctor to register with and get checked out. Up to now, I’ve been lucky with morning sickness, and I hope I continue being so. I certainly don’t want to suffer like the women in the magazines I’ve read do. That would be a nightmare.
Opening a bottle of water, I hear the doorbell going off. How many guesses should I take that my visitor is the neighbor?
Hearing the doorbell again, I make my way to the door and, on opening, I’m faced with a scruffy looking guy, who looks as though he’s had better days. A bit like me.
“Um, hi,” he stumbles over his words, “I was wondering if you could spare a coffee? I’m afraid I’m not very organized with the last minute move and everything.”
“I don’t usually have coffee with strangers.”
He seems surprised and maybe a little disappointed at my comeback.
So I offer an olive branch. “I’m Dahlia.” I hold my hand out.