Page 47 of Run Game
I’ve been in my own head all week, trying to slow down time and make this day not come at all. I was imagining the worst. Me coming out here to her dressed and ready to end our marriage. And what would that mean for us? Does getting divorced mean that there’s no hope for us in the future? Or is it the marriage alone that scares her? These are all questions I want to ask, but right now, it feels like we’re living in a house of cards. One wrong move, and the whole thing could collapse with us inside.
“What are your plans for the day?” I ask her. I’m half expecting her to remind me that we need to go back to the courthouse, but she’s acting as if she doesn’t even realize what day it is. Or maybe I’m just making a bigger deal out of it than it actually is.
“Not sure,” she replies. “We could go to the Mr. Burger drive-through and eat in the parking lot at the beach. I kind of want to get out of here for a little bit, but I also want to keep you to myself.” She pops a shoulder. “That seems like a good way to do it.”
I smile at her. “You’re right. That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.” Maybe I am overthinking this whole thing. We’ve been getting along so well, and now that I know that she loves me back, maybe we’re just going to bypass this whole day and treat it like any other one. I’ll admit though, it’s hard not to have everything playing in the back of my mind. But as long as she’s here, I’ll be right next to her.
I’m sure it would freak her out if I said it out loud, but I’ve been putting a lot of thought into what the future will look like if she decides to give us a real shot at marriage. My wheels have been turning for weeks and I’ve got a lot of big changes on the horizon, depending on what Dia does this week. But I want to prove to her that I’m all in on this. I was the day I married her, and I will be until the day I die.
I stand from the couch, taking her with me as I walk toward the bedroom. She throws her head back in a carefree laugh as I give her heart-shaped ass a squeeze, and I can’t help but admire the way she’s grown since she’s been here. Even if she leaves, as much pain as it would bring me, I’ll eventually be able to breathe knowing that she’s stronger and more confident than ever. I’ll be proud to watch her stand on her own two feet, even if I have to do it from far away.
“Let’s take a shower and we’ll get out of here,” I tell her, setting her on the counter in the bathroom while I turn on the tap. I take her in as steam fills the room and I’m reminded of our first night here. She was nervous and rigid as I washed her tired body with no intentions of taking anything physical from her. I didn’t even want to that night, which was certainly off-brand for the old Dalton. But, as soon as I became her husband, it’s like I had a direct line to her subconscious. I knew exactly what she needed, and I just somehow had the ability to give it. It’s not something she was used to, and her discomfort was painfully obvious when she realized it wasn’t a sexual connection I was after. But here we are now, six weeks later, and we’ve made it part of our daily routine. It’s become a part of her healing, and I’ll never be able tothank her enough for choosing me to be the one she let into the heart she swore she’d keep closed.
All I’ve ever wanted was her love and trust. And now that I have it, I’m praying to God that she doesn’t take it all away.
THIRTY-TWO
DALTON
My hands shakewith anticipation as I grip the steering wheel. Dia sits beside me in the passenger seat, taking in the expensive homes as we pass by. This neighborhood is the safest in the area, with a good school system and around-the-clock security. But it also has a quiet and quaint feel to it. It’s nothing like the busy city street where my apartment is located. That place is great for a bachelor pad. But this? It’s the place you can only dream to live when you want to set down roots and raise a family.
When I gave the realtor a list of things I was looking for a few weeks ago, I certainly wasn’t expecting her to get back to me so fast. I honestly thought I’d end up having to build a custom home to make sure it checked all the boxes, taking months or even years to complete. But somehow, as it has so many times in the last couple of months, fate stepped in and dropped perfection right into my lap.
I steal a glance at Dia. It’s been nearly two weeks since our six-week period ran out, and I know we probably should have discussed everything by now, but she hasn’tbrought it up and neither have I. I’ll admit I haven’t because the thought of her leaving terrifies me. Everything between us is going so well. Our daily routines have stayed the same. Taking turns making breakfast before showering together. Sometimes when I’m an extra good boy, she drops to her knees and starts my day with her heavenly mouth. I go to the practice facility, and she takes off to meet Bella at the studio or Mads at the café or shopping center. Then, we spend our weeknights at home, wrapped up in one other on the couch. On the weekends, we get creative with our adventures. Sometimes we return to our secluded booth at Club Liquid. Sometimes we put on wigs and fake mustaches so we can sneak into a movie theater unnoticed. Talking about putting an end to all of this definitely isn’t high on my to-do list.
I know what I’m about to do could go either very well, or it could blow up in my face, but I really need Dia to know that I’m still completely in on being married to her. I want to build a life with her, and we can’t do that in my bachelor pad. There are so many things she wants out of life, and I want to give them all to her. But I also understand that this may completely scare the shit out of her. I know there’s still a part of her that thinks I’ll abandon her like her parents did, but she couldn’t be more wrong. Even if I wanted to, I am bound to this woman. I feel it in my soul. She’s my other half, and I’m lucky enough to have found her in this great big world full of people. So, no matter what feelings get stirred up from her past when I show her what our future could look like, we’ll get through it together.
I pull through the gate, parking the car and running around to open her door. She’s been particularly sassy today, and I can’t say it isn’t turning me on a little. But thatmelts into confusion as I go through all the steps to make sure she’s able to get into the house, even when I’m not here. I program both of our fingerprints into the lock on the door and hold my breath as I swing it open to reveal my wife’s dream house.
The night she came to me, promising to let me love and care for her, I asked what she wanted for her future. I wasn’t expecting much out of her because I knew she wasn’t used to opening up to people like that. But, once she started talking, it’s like she just couldn’t stop. The excitement in her voice as she described the house she dreamed of living in set me on a mission, right then and there. I was going to find it for her. And if I couldn’t find it, I’d build it.
At first, I didn’t know where our relationship would go. So, the house was less about us, and more about her having a life she deserved. Whether or not I would be living in it with her wasn’t my concern. Of course, I’d hoped we’d be able to share it, but if she decided to kick me to the curb, I still wanted her to have this.
I’m in awe as I look around at the beautiful interior of the entryway. When the realtor sent over the photos and told me that this place had everything I asked for, I knew I didn’t want to see it for the first time in person without Dia. It just didn’t seem right to come here and not have her to experience it with. So, I bought it, sight unseen, and here we are.
We both stand there, taking in our surroundings. From here, I can see the large living room, complete with the fireplace she wanted. I was able to purchase all of the furniture and have it ready to go earlier this week, so if she wants to, we can pack up the boxes at my apartment and move in right away. Off to our right, there’s a large kitchenfor her to host her friends. There’s even a big island in the middle of the room for all of her wine bottles to be put while she dances like a crazy person in her pajamas. The mental image of that makes me smile as she takes a few steps forward, trying to see more.
“Who lives here?” she asks, her voice breathy as she looks up the marble staircase.
I walk up behind her, snaking my arms around her waist and pulling her into me. The scent of her minty shampoo overtakes my senses, calming my raging nerves.
“We do,” I tell her.
She stands there for a moment, and I feel her body go rigid before she freezes completely. I give her some time to process everything, letting go of her so she knows she’s not being held down, but keeping my front pressed against her back. She takes two quick steps away from me before whipping around, her brows pulled together in confusion. “What?”
She looks a little nervous, but I want her to understand what this house is, and what it could mean for us. “I know it’s a lot, but please let me show you around. Let me show you why you’re here.”
Thankfully, she trusts me enough to go along with what I’m asking. I take her hand, leading her from room to room, reminding her of everything she told me she wanted that night. The realtor was completely right. Every single thing on that list is included in this house. It’s almost like it was waiting here for us to find each other, get married, fall in love, and start a life.
When we finish on the first and second floor, we go back through the kitchen and I open the French doors to the backyard. Although it’s still chilly out and nothing is open for the warm weather, the pool is completely visible,as is the waterfall that sits off to the side. It isn’t running, but I can envision her laying on a lounger in her sexiest bikini, or if I’m lucky, nothing at all, reading her smutty romance books while she waits for me to come home from practice. I fantasize about nights alone out here, making love to her in the water, the sound of the waterfall mixing with her moans as I make her come, over and over. These are all thoughts that have run through my head a million times, but they’re all so real now that we’re standing here.
“It’s the house from my dreams,” she whispers. I can’t really make out the emotions that she’s feeling from the sound of her voice, but I know there’s an internal battle waging on inside her.
“What are you thinking?” I ask. If she’s having mixed emotions about this, I want to talk them out. I know it was impulsive to buy the house, let alone bring her here when we haven’t discussed our long-term future, so I don’t expect her to just be all smiles and jump to move in right away. I actually anticipated her giving some pushback, but when I went to tell the realtor that it was too soon, it just didn’t feel right. I knew this place was made for Dia. There was no other explanation.
“I need to get out of here,” she says, turning and running back through the doors. I rush in behind her just in time to see her bump into the kitchen counter, the contents of her bag scattering across the floor. She drops down, trying her best to gather it all up as quickly as she can, shoving her phone into her back pocket and stuffing more items into her purse.
I walk over, kneeling beside her and reaching for a piece of paper that’s lying face-down in front of me. “Hey,” I say softly. “I know this is a lot, but let’s talk about it. I don’t want us to?—"
