Only One Chance (Only One 2)

But now she sits almost on the edge of the couch with her hands in her lap. I sit down on the other couch, facing her. “Before I start, I want to say I’m sorry that you found out that way.”

“What are you exactly sorry for?” I ask her. “Is it because I found out?” I glare at her, and she shakes her head.

“I shouldn’t have come,” she says, getting up now.

“You owe me the truth,” I tell her, saying words that hurt me more than her. “After today, we never have to talk to each other.”Chapter 31LaylaI shouldn’t have come here, my inner voice is screaming at me. Why would you do this to yourself?

I shake my head. It’s not about me; it’s about Miller. It’s about him right now. I sit on the edge of the couch that I used to sit on right next to him. The same couch he made love to me on five days ago, the same couch that we binge-watched TV shows together. The same couch where I lay on his chest and fell asleep. I look around the house, feeling like a stranger, which is weird because, for the past month, I spent more time here than at my actual house. The half-empty bottle of scotch on the counter means he drank last night. That what I did pushed him to do things he doesn’t do. That he wanted to wash away the hurt I brought onto him with alcohol.

I spent the whole night in bed, my body shivering. I just couldn’t get the chill out of my body. I also spent the whole night silently crying. I didn’t expect him to open the door, so I was shocked. Just seeing him made me feel just a touch better, knowing I could see him if only for five minutes. “I am sorry that I wasn’t the one who told you.” I answer his question and see the redness in his eyes. I want to ask him if he’s hurting like I am. I want to ask him if he missed me as much as I missed him. I want to ask him if his heart hurts as much as mine does. I want to ask him to hold me. I want to ask him to give me one more kiss that I can savor. One more kiss to remember him by. One more touch, one more kiss, one more night, one more chance. I want to beg him to forgive me, but that is the selfish part of me. That part is not thinking about his pain or making his pain a priority. The whole night I put myself in his shoes, the whole night I imagined finding out he was married. I would be just as shattered as he was. I look at him sitting there, and it hurts, even more, knowing how it feels to be in his arms, knowing how much he completes me.

“So you still aren’t sorry you lied to me,” he says. “Because by you not telling me, you lied to me.” I listen to the way his voice is tight and hurt.

I take a deep breath and start the speech that I practiced in the car on the way here. Over and over again, I tried to do it without the tears coming. “I was nineteen when I met Richard,” I tell him, and I see that he just looks at me. “He was twenty-two and in town for a golfing event.”

“Wait a second,” he says, holding up his hand. “Was that Richard Chambers?” I nod. “The number two seated golfer in the whole world.”

“That would be him,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Obviously, he wasn’t number two when we met.” I have never told anyone this story, not even Grandma Nancy. It was for me and only me. My mistake that made me so cautious with my heart. The mistake that caused me to keep everyone at bay. The mistake that I never allowed myself to live, really.

“We met when my college newspaper sent me to cover the golf game. I was in charge of asking a couple of them questions. I asked him some basic golf questions, and he laughed at me when I had no idea what a par or a birdie was. He asked me out that night, and we dated for two years.” I swallow. “In secret, of course. He was an up-and-coming golfer. His manager had this whole persona he was creating. He was a charmer, and he was friendly to everyone. He had to keep his single lifestyle going to get the girls running. We got married in secret also. His manager was the only one there and actually got me to sign an NDA about it.” I laugh now, blinking away the tears. “God, it was so stupid. But I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me. We would go out together often, but never once did he hold my hand, never with his arm around me, and when we did go out, the girls would flock all over him.” I don’t have to tell him like they were with him.