Page 48 of The Love Destroyers

Smiling back at me, he admits, “I wouldn’t. But maybe it’s time to admit that I’m ready to find her.”

“Fuck yeah. I’m getting you a drink.”

I couldn’t drink anything more exciting than water right now, but this is a big moment for him—and big moments should be celebrated with a “Slainte.” I head into the kitchen and pour him some whiskey in a tumbler.

When I come back, he’s frowning at me, looking up as he gives the ring another tug.

“It won’t come off,” he says, fussing with it. His brow furrows. “Do you think that’s a sign?”

No way am I letting him climb down that rabbit hole and get lost there.

“No,” I say. “I don’t think it’s a sign of anything other than that you probably gained a few pounds since you got hitched.”

I head back into the kitchen and grab the olive oil, then hand it over to him when I get back to the table. He’s worried now, playing with one of the dahlias.

“Look, Chuck. There’s no way Mrs. Rosings sent over all of these flowers just because she nearly killed me,” I say, hoping to yank him out of this place where he’s going. I’ve felt that kind of doubt. I thought I was a goner for Lia—head over heels—but now that I can look back at the whole situation with 20-20 vision, I see the truth. I was young, dumb, and totally pussy-struck. I let her lead me around by the dick.

He needs to get out, just like I did, before he finds himself flying out to the Pacific Northwest to join that cult.

“You think?” he asks, perking up.

“You talked about dahlias, didn’t you? Hell, she’d know you wouldn’t come by too many, living in the city like you’ve been doing. And she invited you to come over for dinneranddessert. She’s into you, man, and she’s a special woman. Women like that don’t come around too often.”

I think of Emma, her hand cupped around the side of my face.

You’re alive.

She sounded pretty damn happy about it too.

“You’re right,” he says—and picks up the olive oil. He lubes up his finger, and thirty seconds later, the ring goes flying through the air like a missile and then seems to disappear into the space time continuum.

We spend five minutes looking for it before giving up for the time being. Me, because my vision’s blurry around the edges. Him, because he’s obviously agitated and will do better searching later.

“That felt an awful lot like a sign,” he says, his energy nervous.

“Yeah,” I agree. “A sign that your marriage ended years ago, and it’s past time to make it official.”

He considers this, his head tilted slightly, and suddenly I can’t take being in here, in this closed space, flooded with the scent of hundreds of flowers. It’s starting to make me feel queasy again.

“We’ve got to get rid of these flowers,” I tell him.

He gives them a doubtful look. “I don’t want Dahlia to think we threw out her gift.”

“So keep one of the bouquets and give it to her at dinner on Friday night if they’re still looking fresh. What goes around comes around. But she’d think even more of you if you did something nice with them. Why don’t we bring them around to the hospital, give them to the nursing staff?”

God knows Mrs. Rosings had terrified them enough that they deserved something for their trouble.

“Now that’s a capital idea,” he says, slapping me on the back before I can stop him. My head feels like it’s a child’s piggy bank getting shaken by an enforcer.

I get another whiff of flowers and cringe. “The sooner, the better, I think.”

My good buddy,old pal Paul is the on-duty nurse at the hospital—and when he finds out the flowers would be a regift from Mrs. Rosings, he turns the color of sour milk and practically pushes us away.

“No, no, I couldn’t possibly.” He glances around, sees no one watching him other than a man with a hopeful look and a blood-covered rag held to his nose, and then meets my gaze again. In an undertone he says, “You should keep them. You don’t want her to find out you gave them away.”

So Chuck and I are left with two armfuls of flowers, our good deed undone.

“I guess we’re stuck with them, my friend,” he says jovially. “Could be worse.”

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