Clara hoped that she wasn’t coming across as too sarcastic and disbelieving about the list of failures that Dawson apparently took seriously, even though he had a valid answer for each and every one of Romy’s accusations. It was hard to keep reading the letter with Dawson’s arm around her, and his random kisses against her neck. It seemed that checking to see if his lips were warm had opened Pandora’s box. Not that Clara exactly minded, except that the more she was around him, the harder it was for her to keep from falling for him.
She’d hold the record for how many heartbreaks a single person could endure in a year. She couldn’t say one way or another if she and Dawson really stood a chance at something long term. She had once fully trusted Max, and look what that had earned her.
She refocused on the letter. “You wouldn’t turn off your cell phone.”
“It’s true, but I can explain,” Dawson said.
“Of course you can,” she murmured, but she probably already knew the answer.
“It was before contacts could be put on emergency bypass, so I used to charge my phone in the kitchen.” Dawson ran his fingers along her arm, further distracting her. “I had the texts on silent, but I figured if there was a real emergency, someone would call. My phone rang only a handful of times in the middle of the night in all the years we were married. I think only one of the times actually woke up Romy.”
“What were the emergencies?” Clara asked.
“Two were drunk dials, and once my mom called because my dad passed out in the bathroom. Turns out he was dehydrated from the flu. A couple of them were from my paralegal—who apologized and said she’d planned to leave a message since she was calling so late.”
“So, nothing like a secret girlfriend calling?” she said.
“No, never.”
And Clara believed him. Whatever faults Dawson might have, or might be accused of, he wasn’t a cheater. Since Clara had let herself be tricked by one, she supposed she was on alert for even the smallest of signs.
“Where is your phone, by the way?” Clara asked.
He chuckled. “In my bedroom.”
“Did you make your bed?”
Dawson looked at the ceiling as if he were thinking hard. “I’m not sure, do you want to check?” He grinned at her.
“Funny.” She flipped to the third and final page of the letter. There were much more serious accusations. “Your mom doesn’t like me. You only married me because I was pregnant. You didn’t want another baby.”
Dawson pulled away from her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My mom liked her fine. They weren’t close, or anything, and Romy could be really sensitive to any of my mom’s comments. Not that I blame Romy.”
Despite the complexity of Romy’s accusations, Clara’s heart still went out to Dawson. She scooted to the edge of the couch and put her hand on his back. “What about the other things?”
“There’s a lot of truth in them, but she could have turned down my marriage proposal,” he said. “Not that it justifies anything on my part. She got pregnant, so we got married. I think the bigger question is what we never really talked about. Neither of us were in love with each other.” He met Clara’s gaze. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved Romy in a lot of ways. I think we just both knew that if she hadn’t gotten pregnant we might not have ended up getting married.”
Clara exhaled, then asked the next question. “So how did the conversation go when she wanted another baby?”
“It didn’t,” he said. “After her miscarriage, in my mind, I thought she’d need recovery time—emotionally. Romy wasn’t really herself after, so I told my mom about it because I was getting really worried. My mom told me about how women could go into post-partum depression, even after a miscarriage. So I started using condoms to give Romy some time to heal mentally and emotionally.” He sighed. “It’s my fault I didn’t explain my reasoning. It was obviously a major issue that we avoided talking about.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “What if Romy had brought it up, and told you she wanted another baby? Would you have said yes?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Dawson said. “That’s sort of unfortunate, right? The answer should be yes, but even if I had agreed, I’m not sure that would have been telling the truth.”
“I guess avoiding the truth can be painful later on,” Clara said.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “I learned the hard way. But now, looking back, I get where Romy was coming from. And I get why she did what she did.”
“But it’s in the past,” Clara said. “And you need to leave it there.” She grasped his hand that was on his neck. “I agree with your mom. You need to burn this list and move on.”
He moved their hands in front of them and linked their fingers. “I’ve moved on.”
“You need to burn this letter.”
He stared at her for a moment, then said, “I don’t have matches.”
“I do.”
He raised his brows.
“In the emergency kit in my car,” she clarified. “It’s not like I planned this or anything.”
He continued to stare at her, and she continued to stare back, not wavering her gaze.
“Okay,” he said at last, then cradled her face with his hands and kissed her.
Clara let the kiss last for only a couple of seconds, and then she drew away. It was too easy to get lost in the warmth of him. “I’ll get the matches.”
Dawson didn’t protest or try to stop her as she put on her shoes, then crossed the living room and opened the front door.
She returned a few minutes later to find that Dawson had brought the half-empty plate of brownies back to the counter, along with the letter.
“Ready?” she said. “Is there some place we can burn it without setting off a smoke detector?”
“There’s a walking path that leads to a small park on the other side of the complex,” Dawson said, his brown eyes focused on her. “No one will be there this time of night.”
“Okay, grab your shoes,” Clara said. She picked up the letter and folded it in half while she waited for him to get shoes. When he came back in the kitchen, she held out her hand to Dawson.
She felt relieved when he took it. She hoped he wouldn’t change his mind. Whatever issues he’d had with his ex-wife, deep or shallow, he needed to move on from them. Which, of course, was ironic, because Clara knew she needed to move on from her relationship issues as well. Maybe burning the letter would be cathartic for both of them.
They left the condo, and Dawson kept his hand in hers as he led her between a row of condos and onto a walking path. He didn’t say anything as they walked, and Clara wondered if she was being too pushy. Would Dawson actually go through with this, and if he did, would he regret it?
Once they reached a small park with a couple of benches and a jungle gym, Dawson dropped her hand and took both the matches and letter from her.
“Are you sure?” Clara said, putting a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to pressure you.”
Dawson met her gaze. “I’m sure. And you’re right. Both you and my mom.” He knelt on the walking path and tore the letter into several pieces. Then he struck a match and lit each section. Within seconds the letter pieces were curling into black masses, framed by small orange flames. As they turned to smoldering ash, Dawson stepped on them, grinding them down to nothing but black specs.
“You did it,” Clara said in a soft voice.
Dawson pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her arms about his waist and rested her head against his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.
She closed her eyes and breathed him in, reveling in the warm sturdiness of his torso. She didn’t know how long they stayed in that position, but when Dawson pulled away, she felt like she was waking up from a dream.
“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” he asked.
Clara blinked up at him. “At the theater?”
“We could do that.” He slid his hands to the top of her hips. “Or we could watch something at my house on Netflix.”
Clara had a sudden flash of memory of spending nights on her grandma’s couch while she watched whatever series Max was currently addicted to. She could barely follow the episodes because he skipped ahead on his own.
“Maybe,” she said.
Dawson raised a hand and touched her cheek. “You choose the movie. I’m way behind in what’s out there.”
“You don’t follow any Netflix series?” she asked, leaning slightly against his hand. Hanging out on Dawson’s couch wasn’t sounding like such a bad idea after all.
“No,” he said. “I’ve watched an episode of a couple of things here and there, but the plot lines move so slowly that I get too impatient and give up. I guess I’m just a two-hour-movie type of guy.”
“Huh.”
“Do you follow any of the series?”
“Just one,” she said. “I mean, I’ve started a few of them but haven’t gotten through the full season with any of them.”
“Which one do you follow?”
“Jane the Virgin,” she said. “Total chick series.”
His brows lifted. “Jane the Virgin?”
“It’s funny, but a lot of women humor,” Clara said. “Jane is the main character, and she’s made a vow to stay chaste until marriage. Then at a doctor appointment, she’s artificially inseminated by mistake, and she becomes pregnant.”
Dawson was just staring at her.
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t foist it upon you.”
“No,” he said, moving his hand to grasp hers. “Sounds kind of bizarre, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“You really don’t have to, Dawson,” she said as they started walking along the path back toward the condos.
He bumped her shoulder with his arm. “I want to, so stop trying to talk me out of it.”
Clara bit her lip, and Dawson pulled her to a halt.
“When you do that, it makes me want to kiss you,” he said in a hoarse voice.
And he did just that.
Clara practically melted against him as he kissed her quite thoroughly.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said in a breathless voice when he pulled away.
They made it back to his condo without any more lip-biting or kissing. Clara took off her shoes and settled on Dawson’s couch while he turned on the television with a remote that looked like it was straight from outer space.
“So, Jane the Virgin, huh?” he asked
“Like I said, we don’t have to watch it.”
Dawson pulled up the menu and selected the series. “Are we watching episode one, or are you going to catch me up?”
“Either way,” she said. “I’m on episode thirteen, but there’s a lot of complicated backstory.”
“One it is.” He clicked on the first episode and settled next to Clara. Right next to her. “Am I too close?”
“No,” she said, smiling to herself and resting her head against his shoulder.
He moved his arm to accommodate her, and before she knew it, she was nestled against his side. She just hoped Dawson wouldn’t hate the show and make fun of it like Max would have. Clara had learned quickly not to suggest her favorite shows to Max, because he’d ruin them with his snide comments. It was easier to watch what he liked, even if sometimes she’d rather just be alone.
Another red flag she’d ignored while they were dating.
Dawson laughed at several things as the episode progressed. This made Clara happy.
“I think this is the weirdest show I’ve ever seen,” Dawson said as the credits rolled at the end of the first episode. “But it’s funny.”
Clara looked up at him. “I’m glad you like it. Now we have another thing in common.”
His eyes seemed to darken as he gazed down at her. “Yep.” Then he lifted his free hand and brushed his fingers along her jaw. “What I can’t figure out is how that guy you used to date would ever choose another woman over you. And what possessed him to be serious with more than one woman at a time?”
Clara exhaled. She sort of just wanted Dawson to kiss her and not bring up Max. “Well, his other woman was the one he loved, and I was the money bag.” She shrugged. “He wanted the best of both, I guess.”
“Money bag?” Dawson asked. “Are kindergarten teachers making millions?”
“No,” Clara said with a laugh. “My grandparents’ property is prime real estate. They were offered a purchase price more than once by the city, but they always turned it down.”
“But you sold it, right?” he said.
“I accepted the offer on the house and land,” she said. “After I consulted with my boss, of course. It should close in a couple of weeks. I’ll have to go back home to sign papers.”
Dawson leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll go with you.”
For some reason, this made Clara’s eyes burn. She blinked and looked back toward the television. “We can watch something else if you want.”
“Oh, no,” Dawson said. “I definitely have to find out how Jane is going to tell her boyfriend she’s pregnant.”