“Thanks, man,” he says with a grin. “I’ll text photos once it’s all done.”
Apparently, this trip into the office was wasted. I could find something to do, but honestly, I’d rather go see Abby. I should probably call first, but where’s the fun in that?
Besides, I don’t like that I have to wait so long to take her out. Truly, why should I confine our time together to a weekend? We could do dinner tonight, if she’s game.
My phone chimes when I make it to the underground garage, and I grimace when I see it’s a text from Adriana. I need to talk to you.
I ignore her as I get in my car, pull onto the road, and head out of the city. I hear two more text chimes and know it’s her, which I also ignore.
Then my phone rings—the tone for Adriana is Fleetwood Mac’s “Go Your Own Way.”
It seemed appropriate somehow after we broke up and I walked away without a backward glance.
I ignore the call like I always do.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t leave a long-winded voicemail like normal, but instead the ringing cuts short and seconds later, another text.
At the next red light, I pick up my phone and see what’s so urgent. I’ve been able to secure a loan to buy you out. We need to discuss details.
Well, shit. That’s the best thing I’ve heard out of her mouth since the day I caught her fucking the landscape dude. Buying me out of the business will mean our ties will be fully severed.
Without hesitation, I call her back and continue my drive to Washington. I’ll stop and pick up lunch to feed both Abby and Christy, who I’ve learned is the only other staff member at the clinic. They’ve had some personnel changes in the last few months, and while they had a part-time vet filling in to give Abby a break, she often ended up doing vet tech duties so Christy could have time off.
Adriana answers on the first ring, breathless and accusing. “Why didn’t you just answer when I first called?” she demands.
I can feed her some bullshit about being on another call or something, but I’m a straight shooter. “Because I don’t like talking to you. However, you getting funding to buy me out means I must.”
“Why are you such an asshole?” she mutters.
“You and I both know the answer to that,” I reply calmly, not willing to hash out any ugliness. I said my piece to her the day I caught her cheating and walked out. I didn’t need to discuss it again. “So, what’s the deal?”
Adriana sighs and proceeds to tell me that her parents are going to loan her the money at a low interest rate to buy me out and that an attorney will draft the documents to dissolve the business and put it in her name alone.
“That’s great,” I say with excitement. “Send me the paperwork to have an attorney look at. If it’s good, I’ll sign and you can send me a check.”
“I’ll email you the paperwork as soon as we hang up, but if it meets with your approval, I’d rather us conduct the signing of the documents and exchange of money in person.”
“Why?” My tone is flat and hard. I mean, I know why, but I’d like to hear what she says.
“Because I want to talk to you. You never gave me the opportunity, and—”
“Because there was nothing you could say that would stop me from leaving, Adriana. Why can’t you just see that and move on? God knows I have.”
“I can’t.” She starts weeping. “I did the worst thing imaginable, and you won’t even let me be appropriately remorseful about it. You won’t give me the courtesy of letting me apologize to your face.”
My jaw locks, considering her words. It’s absolutely true I gave her no time to talk or apologize. I saw what I saw, and I was done. I got my dog and left. I ignored her calls and texts. I waited until she was at work the next day before I went into the house and grabbed a few boxes of my clothes—enough to get me through a few weeks back in Pittsburgh, and I’d had the rest hauled out for me.
Bubba and I drove east, my house sold for a nice sum, and I subsequently bought my house in Washington. The movers brought my stuff, and my life has been just fine without Adriana.
Which does make me wonder… why wasn’t I more brokenhearted? Why wasn’t I more pissed? I mean, I was angry, but it dissipated so quickly. I’d dare say, maybe there was even some relief. Things had been a little too easy with us. We’d been together for almost three years, and we hadn’t progressed at all. We were static… fine with the status quo of our relationship. There was no talk of a future or children.