Page 138 of Bloom

“What's the catch?”

And there it is; a slip. Cheryl’s unbothered charade wavers as she takes a step towards her husband, and then another, and another until she can set a hand on his chest. “You’re makin’ a mistake. I know it. You know it—some day, you’ll be able to admit it. And when you come crawlin’ back, when you snap out of the… early mid-life crisis you’re having, this whole embarrassin’ affair will have been worth it. I’ll make you pay then.” Teeth bared in some twisted version of a smile, she pats his chest. “You’ll pay now too, of course. I think I deserve it. I think I deserveeverythin’.”

“You can have everythin’,” Hunter retorts without hesitation. “I don’t care.”

Cheryl’s mouth fixes in a mocking pout. “Because you have everythin’ you want right here? That’s sosweet.”

Grabbing her by the wrist, he removes her hand from his chest and lets it drop. “Because I want nothin’ to do with you.Andbecause I have everythin’ I want.”

Cheryl kisses her teeth as she backs away. And then, she’s just… gone. Sauntering down the road and into The Redwood Inn. So instantaneously, I find myself searching for a poof of smoke.

“That’s…” I swallow, scarcely able to believe the turn of events. Yesterday, it wasyesterday, that she was in my store, and now, she’s leaving? Just like that? I can’t wrap my head around it. “That’s it?”

Hunter’s fingers flex around mine. “I guess.”

“Kinda… anticlimactic.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“No, I'm just… surprised.” I thought there would be more of a fight; I kind of thought she wouldn't ever leave. I’d all but prepared myself for a life of checking around every corner in case she’s lurking.

I think Hunter expected the same; he looks a little shell-shocked. “I’ll believe it when I see ink on paper.”

Ink on paper—ink of divorce papers. Because he’s getting divorced.

Because he loves me.

He loves me, and he turns to me, and he asks, “Can I take you home? My home.”

I swallow hard. I say, “Okay.”

42

For the first time in months, he can breathe.

We endup on the porch swing, staring silently into the murky darkness, listening to the chirp of cicadas.

I remember the last time we were here, like this. It wasn’t all that different a scenario. I was a little banged up, like I am now. He was a cocktail of calmly disappointed anger, like he is now. My life was falling apart, and it still is. I’m not sure I should find it a comfort that his is too, in a way. His marriage, at least. Though, I’m not sure he shares my devastation.

“I’m sorry,” I still find myself saying because that’s what you’re supposed to say, right? I know it’s what he wanted—what hesaidhe wanted—but it’s the end of a marriage. It’s a big thing. “Are you okay?”

A thump sounds as his head hits the wall behind us. I look over just in time to watch the slow spread of a smile curling his mouth. “I’m so fucking relieved, Caroline.”

Some of the tension making my shoulders ache lessens. God, I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear that. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” he barks on a laugh, shaking his head, still smiling. “I don’t want to talk about it ever again. Do you want to talk about your dad?”

My head throbs at the mere thought. “Not right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” I stare at my hands—one holding his, cradled in my lap, and the other wrapped around his lower arm. “About what you said—”

“That I love you?”

My heart thumps a little more erratically. “Yeah.”

“What about it, honey?”

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