Color of Forgiveness (25 page)

“Not good.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I don’t know. I was kind of forced into it
and went with my ex-wife. They just asked me a bunch of damn
questions that I didn’t want to answer. So I didn’t,” he says with
a shrug.

“Were the questions painful for you?”

“Not really. I just felt like it wasn’t any
of their damn business.”

“Were there questions that you
did
answer?”

“No. I didn’t want them knowing anything
about me.”

“Would you say you have problems
communicating?”

He barks out a non-humorous laugh. “Yeah,
you could say that.”

She smiles at him. “Good,” she says,
nodding. “That’s something we can work on. Why are you here when
you know it didn’t work in the past?”

He looks down at the dirt on his work boot.
“I met someone. She told me she talked to a doc after her dad died.
I told her I didn’t think it’d work, but that I’d give it another
try. I’m here only because of her.”

“What about for yourself?”

“I don’t give a shit about myself. I haven’t
for a long time.”

“Since when?”

He shrugs and doesn’t answer, but he knows
exactly when he stopped giving a shit. It was the moment that Mel
took his last breath.

“How long have you been divorced?”

“A little over a year...”

“Does my last name bother you since it’s so
similar to your son’s?”

The question stuns Dylan momentarily. He
clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “Yeah… actually it
does.”

She nods. “That’s certainly to be expected.
I didn’t realize the similarity until I reviewed your chart right
before you came in. If it’s too hard on you, we have three other
extremely qualified therapists who would be more than happy to work
with you.”

Dylan nods and takes in a deep breath.

The rest of the hour goes by quickly and
before Dylan knows it he’s standing at the receptionist’s desk and
signing his credit card receipt.

“Dr. Mitchum said she’d like to see you back
in a week. Can we go ahead and schedule that?” the receptionist
asks, looking up at him.

Dylan stares at her for a moment before
nodding.

“Okay,” she says with a smile. “Let’s see
when she’s available…”

* * *

Myra hears the buzzer on her dryer go off.
She stands up from the kitchen table and stretches before picking
up the gun lying on the table and tucking it into the back of her
jeans.

Dylan dropped her off this morning to pick
up her car after she had all four tires replaced. He managed to get
her garage cleaned out enough that she was able to park her car in
it then he worked on her cabinets up until he had to leave for his
therapy appointment. She thinks she was more nervous about the
appointment than he was. Her stomach has been queasy all morning
over it. She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he
left, and she got even more nervous when she got his text. She just
hopes that he gives it a chance this time and won’t close himself
off. Maybe he’ll actually open up and talk about what happened to
Mel. He’s been so opposed to the idea that she’s prepared for it to
not work.

In the basement, she puts her folded laundry
in a basket and carries it up the stairs. She frowns when she hears
a knock on the door. Setting the basket on the kitchen table, she
glances at the clock over the stove and sees that it’s too early
for Dylan to be back from his appointment yet. He’s been gone two
hours and it’s an hour drive to Boise and an hour back, and his
appointment was supposed to be an hour long. He didn’t skip out on
his appointment, did he? No, she can’t see him doing that. Then who
could it be? She walks slowly towards the front door, her right
hand behind her back, her fingers resting on the gun, her heart
beating faster in her chest.

The knocking continues. Finally at the door,
she swallows hard before slowly peeking out the small window. She
gasps, pulling in a startled breath as her eyes land on dark brown
hair and crystal blue eyes.

Sabrina.

CHAPTER 8

Myra backs away from the door, almost
tripping over her feet in the process. Why is Sabrina
here
?
Knocking on
her
door? Was she the one that slashed her
tires? Question after question bombards her mind so quickly that
she can barely think straight.

Sabrina pounds on the door again, startling
Myra out of her thoughts.

“I know you’re in there. I just saw you,”
Sabrina shouts. “Can we talk?”

Myra stares at the door, her chest heaving.
Should she answer it? Or wait for Dylan? What could she possibly
want to talk to Myra about?

“Come on, it’s cold out here,” Sabrina
yells. “I just want to talk.”

Pulling the gun out of the back of her
jeans, Myra flips off the safety and tucks it into the pocket of
her hoodie. Slowly, she undoes the locks on the door and slips her
hand into her pocket, placing her finger on the trigger. She takes
in a deep breath and opens the door.

Sabrina eyes Myra from head to toe. “May I
come in?” she asks.

Myra nods and moves to the side.

Sabrina walks past her, tucking her hands
into the pockets of her cream-colored wool coat. She purses her
perfect rose-tinted lips as she gazes around Myra’s living
room.

“What do you want?” Myra asks.

Sabrina avoids the question. “Can we sit?”
she asks instead.

Myra nods. Sabrina’s high-heeled brown
leather boots echo loudly across the hardwood floor as she walks to
the couch. Dropping her matching bag to the floor, slips off her
coat and lays it on the arm of the couch before she sits down. Myra
sits on the loveseat, her hands still inside her hoodie and her
finger still resting gently on the trigger of her gun.

“How did you know where I live?” Myra
asks.

Sabrina shrugs nonchalantly. “That was easy
enough. I stopped by that small grocery store and struck up a
conversation with a cashier. I told her I was an old friend of
yours and that I’d lost your address. She offered it up fairly
quickly.”

Lucia…

“Why did you want my address? What do you
want?”

“Well, I actually came here to see Dylan,
but he wasn’t home. I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer. Is
he working somewhere today?”

Myra just continues to stare at her.

Sabrina sighs and rolls her eyes. “Oh, well,
it doesn’t matter. I wanted to talk to you anyway.” She stands and
walks over to the fireplace and stares at each photo on the mantle.
As Myra watches her, she still can’t believe how beautiful Sabrina
is with her straight dark hair, perfectly tanned skin and light
blue eyes. With her boots on, she looks like she might well over
six feet tall. Her jeans fit her like a second skin showing off
every perfect curve. The sky blue color in her ruffled blouse
matches the color of her eyes perfectly.

Sabrina finally turns around and crosses her
arms over her chest. “I came here to ask you one question. Are you
fucking my husband?”

Myra gasps, her hand tightening on the gun.
“He’s not your husband… he’s your
ex
-husband. You two are
divorced.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I won’t. It’s none of your
business.”

Sabrina’s eyes narrow as she glares at Myra.
She slowly shakes her head, her lip curling up. “You don’t have
to,” she says. Sabrina continues staring at Myra with a look of
hatred on her face. Myra’s eyes never leave her face.

“Do you know what Dylan told me?” she
finally asks.

Myra shakes her head slightly.

“He said and I quote, ‘I met someone.’ And
that was it. He absolutely refused to tell me a single thing about
you so I had no idea how involved you two were. You don’t know how
much I was hoping that you two weren’t fucking yet, but when you
showed up on his doorstep all teary-eyed, I had a feeling you were.
And especially when I saw how upset Dylan was after you left. I
can’t remember the last time he acted like that about me. It’s been
so long…” She walks back over to the couch and sits, crossing her
legs. She stares quietly at the fireplace for a few minutes.

She takes in a deep breath and looks at
Myra. “Did he tell you about Mel?”

Myra nods.

Sabrina frowns. “He did? What did he
say?”

“He told me everything.”

Sabrina throws her head back and laughs. “So
Dylan talked to you about Mel – told you everything – yet he
couldn’t ever talk to me, his own wife, who was there when it
happened? Unbelievable.”

Myra doesn’t know what to say so she just
stays quiet.

“What did he tell you about me? Since he was
so
open and talkative
with you, I can only imagine what he
said. Did he tell you that I was the horrible ex… the one with the
drug problem?”

Myra clears her throat. “He just explained
how you had a rough time with everything…”

“
Rough time?”
Sabrina echoes with a
non-humorous laugh. “Yeah, you could say it was a rough time. Do
you have kids?”

Myra shakes her head.

“Then you have no idea what I’ve been
through. You have no idea what it’s like to give birth to a child,
to love a child more than your own life. You can’t even comprehend
the pain I’ve experienced. Mel was my whole world. My entire life
revolved around him. Mel meant everything to me and Dylan, and when
we lost him…” She frowns and stares down at her hands as her bottom
lip begins to quiver.

“I’m so sorry,” Myra says softly.

Sabrina grabs her bag and pulls out a tissue
quickly wiping her eyes. She clears her throat. “So, yeah, I
couldn’t deal with what happened and I ended up with a drug
problem. But you know what? I kicked my addiction, and I got
better. I went to rehab and stuck with it. And do you know what I
thought about every single day that I was in there?”

Myra shakes her head.

“Dylan. Dylan was my one and only
motivation. I knew that my husband was waiting on me. Did he tell
you that? That he promised to wait for me? That he’d come back to
me when I got sober?”

Myra nods slightly.

Sabrina’s eyes narrow. “Of course he told
you because obviously he tells you every single thing!” she shouts,
causing Myra to flinch slightly.

Sabrina looks at the fireplace again and
takes in some deep breaths. “I have worked my ass off. I made it
through rehab, and I didn’t miss a single meeting after I got out.
I got a job, got an apartment and finally got my whole life back on
track, and I couldn’t wait to surprise Dylan with the good news. So
imagine how I felt when I went to tell my husband only to find out
that he didn’t wait on me. That he
met somebody,
” she says,
practically snarling the last two words.

Sabrina stares at Myra with a wild look in
her eyes. “I absolutely refuse to accept that. It’s time for me to
get my husband back. Dylan is the only man that I have ever loved,
and I plan on fighting for him. I know he still loves me because
you never get over your first love, and I was his first love. And
I’m the only one that truly understands what he’s been through. I’m
the only one he can relate to. So be prepared for a fight. I
will
get my husband back.”

Myra clears her throat. “I know Dylan cares
deeply for you and that he probably shouldn’t have made you that
promise, but I think it was because he wanted you to get better
more than anything in the world. But I won’t fight you for Dylan.
It’s his decision to make; who he wants to be with. I really am
sorry for everything that you’ve been through, and I’m sorry that
your marriage ended, but it did end. You two are divorced. I am not
the other woman in this situation. Dylan is single, and I have
nothing to feel guilty about as far as my relationship with him
goes.”

Sabrina stands, puts her coat on and grabs
her bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Well, I just wanted to
make my intentions very clear so there would be no
misunderstandings. I know what I want, and I’m not afraid to work
hard to get it.”

Myra doesn’t respond and watches as Sabrina
walks towards the door. She turns around and looks at Myra one more
time with a challenge in her eyes before opening the door and
walking out. Myra locks the new deadbolts and slides the chain into
place and leans against the door with a heavy sigh.

* * *

Dylan pulls up to a stoplight. He grabs his
phone to send Myra a text but frowns when he sees a missed call
from Sabrina. She must have called while he was at his appointment.
He doesn’t know what that’s about, but it doesn’t matter because he
won’t be answering any of her calls any time soon. He quickly types
Myra a text.

U stil ok –D

The light turns green, and his phone buzzes.
He quickly glances down at it.

Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay? –M

Smiling, he types a response.

Ys –D

He frowns when he passes a restaurant that
he and Sabrina and Chad and Natalie used to frequent. He wonders
how Natalie’s doing; no one has called to give him an update on
her. He feels like a shit for being in Boise and not stopping by to
see her, but he has to get his ass back to Myra. He can’t leave
Myra alone any longer than absolutely necessary with this stalker
situation going on. He quickly dials Natalie’s number.

“Hi,” she answers softly.

“Hey,” Dylan says. “Are you home from the
hospital?”

“Yeah, but to be honest, I’m really not
feeling so good. The contractions have stopped, but I just don’t
feel
right. I think this little girl is going to be making
an appearance sooner rather than later.”

“But she’ll be okay, right? If she
does...?”

“Yeah, I’m going to try to hang on as long
as I can, but I just have this motherly intuition going on telling
me that something’s up. When can you come visit me? I want you to
bring Myra; I’m dying to meet her. Your mom has talked non-stop
about her. She told me about surprising you at the airport,”
Natalie says with a laugh. “I heard you weren’t too happy about
that.”