Page 59 of Finding Denver

This letter only fueled my fire to hurt her.

If he knew how things had changed, if Nico knewhow much I loved her, would he take these words back? Because I do love her. I protect her. She doesn’t want for anything.

That’s what he wanted for her, isn’t it?

I stare at my phone for so long that my eyes start to burn. I will her to call me back, to text me, to say she’s coming home.

The phone remains dark.

If this is what pushes her to the edge … what will she do if she learns the truth?

My grip loosens on Nico’s letter, and it flutters back into the box. My chest feels weighted, and my stomach twists into a painful knot. The walls of the walk-in seem to darken and press in on me, the space hot. No, it’s fucking stifling. A sheen of sweat spreads across my back and chest, and my heart … it’s rattling in my chest, galloping ahead of me, too fast. Too fucking fast?—

Fuck.

I can’t breathe.

Am I having a heart attack?

I almost tear out of the closet and go to the balcony, throwing the doors open to the cool air. It rushes over me, goose bumps scattering across the sweat, and I grip the railing and try to heave in breaths. Small pockets of air fill my lungs.

My hand shakes as I run it down my face, staring out across the grounds, to the gardens where Denver walks Wesson. As if he knows I’m on his mind, claws pad across the balcony tiling, and the dog sits by my feet.

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice strained, and I place my trembling hand on his head. “I’m fine, boy.”

But am I?

More air fills my lungs. My heart rate settles. Cool rationalitycoats across the heated panic, and I organize my thoughts.

I’m fine. It’ll be fine. Denver will come home, and it’ll be fine.

“Come on, boy.” I pat my thigh, and Wesson follows me back into the bedroom. I shut and lock the balcony doors before striding back to the paperwork, digging through it to find the single slip of paper that would destroy my marriage for good.

I lay the piece of paper across the glass countertop, and I read the words I’ve read a hundred times. I don’t know why I kept it. Maybe I was hoping Denver would find it and I’d rid myself of this heaviness.

But I’ll hold that weight until the day I die if it means she never leaves me.

The matches rattle as I open the box, snatching one to life, the flame flickering and dancing as I hold it to the paper.

White becomes black.

Paper becomes ash.

And the truth is erased.

Chapter 16

Denver

COLT: I can’t believe you ditched me for takeout.

ME: Really? It surprises you that food comes before my mortal enemy?

COLT: Keep telling yourself we’re enemies, Del. Maybe you’ll start to believe it.

I smile at my phone and snap a photo of my meal, my tongue between my lips as I concentrate on a good shot. I make sure that the toy panda is in the shot, too.

It’s Halloween. Officially four weeks since I left San Francisco. I thought I’d be here for a week, maybe two, but the more time I spend here, the more I dread going home. I have no idea what I’m doing to fix this. Ranger isn’t doing much except constantly telling me I need to come back, and the kindest thing he’s said is that we can’t fix anything if we’re on opposite sides of the country.