Caught in a Chase

47 - Dead Wrong

After Chelsea walked out, I left the office and raced home. I had to talk to her, make her understand!

She wasn't there when I arrived. Pacing, I tried to figure out what I was gonna say. How was I going to fix this?

The front door opened and Chelsea walked in. Without a word, she headed upstairs and I hurried after her.

In the bedroom I saw her bag on the floor, partially unpacked. She'd obviously been here before coming to the studio.

She'd come back. She'd even unpacked. Oh fuck! What had I done?

Chelsea didn't look at me, didn't stop putting things into the bag.

"Chelsea please listen. I thought we were over!"

"We are."

"No, before! Or I never would have ..." I was starting to panic.

"When?" she turned to face me, hands on hips. "When exactly did we 'break up' Marshall? 'Cause silly me, I thought we were still together."

"On the phone last night," I said.

"Really?" Chelsea said. "When I asked if I mattered to you? If you wanted me to come back? Or how you felt about us? Tell me, what part of that translates to 'we broke up'?"

I opened my mouth to answer. Closed it. Opened it again. Fuck I couldn't remember why I thought she'd ended us.

Chelsea resumed packing.

"No!" I yelled. "You're not leaving!"

Stomping over, I grabbed the bag and dumped everything out onto the floor. She ignored me and started putting her stuff back in.

Snatching the bag from her, I hurled it across the room. Wordlessly, she retrieved it and kept packing.

"Stop!" I yelled at her. "Why can't we talk about this?"

"Yeah, like we talked all the times I wanted to?" she asked. "At least now I know why. Props for not bragging about your whores."

"This was the only time! I swear!" I said.

"Even if I believed that," Chelsea said. "One time is still too many."

"She came onto me!"

"Oh well, that changes everything. Of course you had to let her suck your dick."

"That's not what I meant..." I said, rubbing my hands over my face. "I only want you!"

Chelsea snorted as she walked into the bathroom to grab stuff, adding it to her bag.

"How can you just walk away? I thought you fucking loved me!"

I'd never seen Chelsea mad before. Hurt and upset, yes. But never spitting nails, fire-breathing angry.

When she turned from her bag and stalked towards me, she was furious. I backed up a couple steps.

"How dare you!" she hissed. "I left everything to be with you. I did it because I fucking loved you. And you threw it all away to be sucked off by some slut. You did that, not me."

"I know I fucked up! I'm sorry! It'll never happen again," I shouted.

She turned away and kept packing.

"Please Chelsea, talk to me," I begged. "What can I do?"

"Nothing. You can't make this right," she said.

"Don't go. Please don't leave me!"

Chelsea picked up her bag and without looking back at me, walked out.

I sank onto the bed. My thoughts were spinning out of control. Forcing myself to take deep, slow breaths, I tried to calm down.

One moment. One stupid, fucking moment ruined everything!

There were a million ways it could have played out differently. If Chelsea sent a text saying she was on her way to the studio to see me, if another admin assistant had brought me those proposals, if I'd never made that sarcastic remark, if I'd stopped the slut. If only I'd stopped her ... I shook my head remembering.

Instead the worse possible scenario went down and now Chelsea was gone.

How the fuck had this happened? I didn't understand how we'd gone from her saying yesterday on the phone "would you rather I stayed here?" to her arriving back in Detroit today?

In desperation I grabbed my phone and pulled up the story site. To my surprise, there was a new chapter. Frowning I noticed the date. It was from last night. Meaning she'd probably written and posted it on the flight back to Detroit.

Clicking it open, I started to read.


I stared at the phone while his words continued ringing in my ears. "You're the one who left." Could it be that simple?

I'd thought having a job opportunity was an excellent reason to be apart for a couple months and no big deal. Especially since we'd been apart for most of our relationship.

But I'd also had a stable, loving family and good relationships. What if I'd suffered a lifetime of people leaving or turning their backs on me? Would I still view someone temporarily leaving the same way? Did he believe I wasn't coming back?

I grabbed my jacket and walked down the street to a small community park. My head ached but the fresh air and exercise helped.

Sitting on my usual bench, I watched dogs happily rush around after balls thrown by their owners.

Was I dealing with one or two issues here?

If one issue was Martin's distress over my leaving, that still didn't explain whatever was going on before that. And I knew something had been going on. I just didn't know what.

My gut said he wasn't cheating, but was that wishful thinking on my part? He'd cheated multiple times in many relationships over the years. Maybe this was just one more...

Yet he'd said he was tired of playing around, being alone and wanted something different now. Would he really go back to old habits? But if it wasn't cheating? What was going on?

A golden retriever ran over and snuffled my knee. I patted his head and told him what a good boy he was before he ran back to his owner.

Putting aside the unknown issue for now, there remained Martin's distress over my leaving. That was easier to remedy – I just had to return.

Pulling out my phone, I looked up flights to Detroit. There was a red-eye that arrived tomorrow morning. My thumb hovered on the check out button.

Was fixing the one issue enough? Or was I just returning to a hopeless situation?

I closed my eyes. He'd been so cold on the phone, not even saying he wanted me to come back. Where did that leave me? I could stay in New York. End things with Martin right now. But was that what I wanted?

I remembered how gently he'd wiped away my tears while holding back his own, telling me how much he loved me the day I left.

Clicking the check out button, I booked the flight. Somewhere a dog barked, as if saying 'good for you!' and I smiled.

While I knew something was going on with him, I hadn't pushed. Partly because I'd been dealing with my own shit and partly, I'd hoped he'd eventually come to me. Time just run out on the latter. Now we were going to deal with whatever this was.

I'd waited a lifetime to find a love like this. He was everything I'd wished for and more. A connection like this didn't come along every day. I wasn't giving up on this relationship until there was no hope left. I was going to fight for us. And if he wanted to end things, he was going to have to say that to my face.

As the sun lowered in the sky, I rose from the bench and headed back to pack. I had a plane to catch.


"Nooooo," I whispered, dropping my head into my hands as the phone fell to the floor.

Sometimes when you're in it, it's too hard to see...

Hundreds of moments from the last several months flashed through my mind, hitting differently now and shit was crystal clear.

Paul had been right; she never intended to leave me. But worried only about myself I'd shut Chelsea out, leaving her to face surgery alone. And still, she'd come back to fight for us.

To find me cheating. The one thing she couldn't tolerate.

I slid to the floor and leaned back against the bed. I couldn't believe how badly I'd fucked up everything. Cheating was only my latest mistake.

She'd said there was nothing I could do to make it right. But there had to be something! I needed to get her back.