End of Story(80)

As for the mess of feelings that used to roil inside me at the thought of Aaron, those were long gone. Never to be seen again. And good riddance.

I rolled over and stared at the shadows on the ceiling. The world was quiet on this Sunday morning. Peaceful. Right up until a lawnmower roared to life nearby, and a bird started screeching in protest. Which might have been the universe telling me to get my butt out of bed and go find my boyfriend. Though boyfriend sounded middle school and lover was...no. Partner was fine. Or was it? Another thing to ponder.

Lars’s request to wait a while before destroying the divorce certificate surprised me. Although, I guess he had a point. Once it was gone, it was gone for good. I got up and retrieved it from my underwear drawer and stared at the worn creases in the paper. At how the text had faded with age. The scent of dust and dirt from the wall lingered on it.

The same old feelings flooded back to me: Frustration over not knowing what caused the failure of our marriage. Wonder that I would agree to get wed in the first place...though I was beginning to see how that might have happened. My feelings for the man were big. Huge. And a mix of sadness and anger that our union might fall apart. That we wouldn’t last.

Fuck that noise.

I was done with listening to it.

My fingers tightened on the piece of paper. The desire to scrunch it up and throw it into the trash was tempting as all hell. To light the fucker on fire.

But a strong case could be made that Lars and I were only together because it existed. Only after its discovery did we take the time to really get to know one another. To grow close. Turns out sharing a secret, trying to unravel a mystery, is great for bringing people together. It might have happened anyway with him working on the house. But knowing me, I would have wanted to keep my distance from the Ex’s best friend. That would have trumped everything—and to think of what I would have missed out on.

Maybe I should be grateful to it, after all.

Out in the back garden, Lars was hard at work sanding one of the old Adirondack chairs. Kat sat nearby keeping an eye on him, as she was wont to do. Her new rainbow collar was very cool. An empty coffee cup and the latest book from Tessa Bailey sat nearby. He hadn’t been only working.

As always, the sun loved Lars. Both his hair and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. I could happily stare at him for hours. I sat on the back steps in the shade with a cup of coffee in my hands, wearing only an old tee and panties. As nice as it was to dress up, you needed to be comfortable hanging out in your own home. To be comfortable in your own skin. Which included not caring whether the love of my life saw my cellulite and messy hair.

“Hey,” he said with a warm smile. “Thought I’d give these a sanding down and a fresh coat of paint. They were pretty rough and I don’t want you getting any splinters.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Every day I appreciate a little more how much it must have driven you up the wall to have to sit still and let yourself heal after the accident. You were really quite restrained.”

“That your way of asking why I wasn’t still in bed this morning?”

“I may have woken in a somewhat amorous mood.”

He gazed up at me, squinting against the bright midmorning light. “Sorry I missed it. Make it up to you later?”

“Sure.”

His smile...ugh. So beautiful.

“I cleared out some more space in the wardrobe for you.”

His smile turned into a bigger grin. “You’re giving up some of your wardrobe space for me? I’m beginning to think you really do like me.”

“I’m not going to lie,” I said. “It hurt. But then I remembered I have the whole closet in the spare room as well. Fair is fair. I figure you’re entitled to a quarter of the clothing storage in the house. Just don’t push for any more.”

He laughed. “That’s my girl. Such a giver.”

“How’s your hand this morning?”

A shadow crossed his face. There and gone in an instant. “It’s fine. You okay?”

“There’s a couple of small bruises. I took a picture of them just in case he tries anything.”

“Fucker,” he muttered.

“Fucker who is now out of our lives.” Which made it time to change the subject. “Are you hungry? What would you like for breakfast?”

“Yeah. I’m starving. How about pancakes?”

“You got it. I’ll get started on them as soon as I finish this.” I took another sip of coffee. Then I took a deep breath and said, “I do love you, you know?”

“I know,” he replied, casual as can be.

Huh.

“Wait a minute, Han Solo. That was a rhetorical question. You’re supposed to be shocked and stunned at such an admission.” My brows descended, but my smile was wide. “How exactly do you know? Was it the wardrobe space that gave it away?”

“Something like that.”

The happiness in his eyes made my toes curl and heart skip a beat. “Lars. Tell me. What gave it away?”

“Well, I’ve been pretty much all-in since the inevitable thing. Just wasn’t sure of my ability to convince you.”

“It’s not like you to doubt yourself.”

“Maybe it unnerved me...how much you mattered,” he said. “But then you kept giving me signs. Like setting the table for a romantic dinner after saying you didn’t want to date me. It made me hope that deep down you were all-in too. You just needed to feel safe enough to trust me and tell me. And that was going to take time.”