“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.” He pushes his hand through his hair.
“Pike, don’t be—”
“I can’t have you here,” he yells and then looks away before pounding his good fist into the wall. “Fuck, I can’t—I don’t deserve to have you here.” His head droops and he turns away, offering me his back. He makes his way down the hallway and to the dining room, where he pauses. I visibly see his shoulders stiffen.
The papers.
He must see them.
With purpose, he moves toward the dining room table and picks up the envelope.
For some reason, guilt swarms me. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty. He’s the one who hurt me. He’s the one who lied, and yet, tears prickle at my eyes as he opens the envelope.
“Don’t, uh . . . don’t worry about that right now.”
He doesn’t say a word. Instead, he reaches for a pen on the kitchen island and then slowly takes a seat at the dining room table. In jaded, sharp movements, he pulls the papers from the envelope and flips to the tabs where his signature is required.
“Pike—”
He signs, the scratch of the pen against the paper feeling like a knife to my heart.
He flips the pages over and signs again.
Initials.
Signs.
And . . . signs.
He tosses the pen on the table, stuffs the documents back in the envelope, and then slowly, painfully, stands and hobbles over to me. He gestures to the papers tucked under his left arm. “What you really want.”
I don’t quite understand why he’s being so cruel, why he’s so angry, but I’m not going to let him scare me away.
He might have hurt me, but that doesn’t change what his current needs are. It’ll be painful. It’ll be uncomfortable. It’ll be awkward, but I’m not leaving, not until I think he can do everything on his own.
I take the papers from him and toss them to the kitchen island. “I’m not leaving.”
“Cora,” he groans. “There’s no need for you to be here. I don’t—I don’t fucking deserve it.”
“So, what? You’re just going to punish yourself when you should be healing?”
“It shouldn’t matter to you. I signed the divorce papers. You’re free. You don’t need to be here anymore. Go, live your single life.”
“Don’t be cruel, Pike.”
“But that’s who I am, Cora. I’m a cruel human who lies and cheats his way through life. Right? So why the fuck would you stick around to be around me when you know exactly the kind of person I am?”
I fold my arms over my chest and say, “Honestly, I have no clue why I would stick around other than I know if I walk out that door, I won’t ever forgive myself. We might not get along, you might not like me being here, but I’ll be damned if you attempt to do this on your own.”
I turn around and go to the kitchen to pick up his dinner so I can take it to the dining room table.
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he yells.
I set the dinner on the table and say, “Get used to it.” And then I go upstairs to the guest bedroom, the room that I was supposed to make my office, and take a seat on the bed. The tightness in my chest feels overwhelming, and before I can stop the wave of emotions that hit me, I let out a loud sob and curl into a ball on the bed, then silently cry to myself.
Stella: Cora, I don’t think this is a good idea. Staying with Pike, it’s only going to be more harmful to your already fragile heart.
Greer: I agree. This is not a good idea.
Cora: He won’t take help from anyone. He can’t heal by himself. He’s down one arm and one leg. He needs help.
Stella: Why do you need to be the one that helps him?
Greer: It’s not your fault he got in the accident. You know that, right?
Cora: I don’t want to talk about this.
Greer: Cora, it wasn’t your fault. He chose to get on his motorcycle when it was snowing. He chose to go faster than he should have. That isn’t your fault. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t feel like this is on you.
Stella: She’s right. This is not on you. This is all on him.
Cora: Just because he made bad choices doesn’t mean that I can leave him to fend for himself. He was on the floor in the dark when I arrived. Who knows how long he was lying there, unable to get up? I can’t, in good conscience, leave him like that.
Stella: You’re a much better person than I am, because I would’ve told him “Peace” and bolted.