P.S. You’re Intolerable: Chapter 35

TEN P.M. ON A Saturday night in the office wasn’t unusual for me. In fact, I used to look forward to the weekends so I could spend late nights alone, in silence, getting my work done without anyone bothering me.

The last few months, things had changed, and home had held far more enticement than work.

Until today.

Without Catherine and Joey, I had no interest in returning. My plan was to work until I couldn’t keep my eyes open then go home and crash.

Rinse and repeat tomorrow.

I’d run the moment I’d left her over and over in my head, trying to find something I could have done differently. She hadn’t been flipping with joy when I’d driven away, but she’d been so fucking enthusiastic about her house I hadn’t been able to see a way to deny her.

We weren’t broken up. That wasn’t what I wanted, and I was nearly certain it wasn’t what Catherine wanted. But our relationship was changing in a way I did not agree with.

I would get used to this.

Catherine and I would still see each other daily, and I would be able to see Joey…well, probably not daily anymore.

“Motherfucker.”

A ball of helpless rage shot me to my feet. My chest was too tight. I couldn’t catch my breath. My hands flexed and straightened at my sides.

I wouldn’t see my baby girl every day anymore.

Before I knew I was going to do it, I had ripped my keyboard away from my computer and hurled it across the room. It landed with an impotent clatter, not even having the decency to break.

“Motherfucker!” I bellowed, ripping at my hair in frustration.

My chest hurt. My stomach ached. My lungs were the size of shriveled grapes. I didn’t want to be in this office. I wanted my girls. My family.

Stalking out of my office, I stopped at Catherine’s desk, my gaze landing on her drawer, and I knew what I needed.

A nice dose of P.S. You’re intolerable.

I hadn’t looked in the drawer since she’d been back from maternity leave, and now I wondered what she’d been writing. If she’d been writing.

She didn’t find me intolerable anymore, that much I was sure of. But Catherine still played a lot of her feelings close to the vest.

Sliding the drawer open, I tossed the tampon box aside and retrieved her secret envelope. It was tan instead of white. Frowning at my discovery, I placed it on her desk and sank into her chair.

This envelope was unquestionably thinner than the previous one I’d invaded. It was newer too, and when I peeked inside, there were far fewer strips of paper.

She must have started a new collection when she’d returned.

I unceremoniously dumped the contents on the desk. Strips of paper with Catherine’s neat handwriting fluttered across the surface. Forcing myself to wait to read them, I arranged the strips in neat rows.

Only then did I pick up the first one.

P.S. I hope your pillow is cool tonight.

That wasn’t an angry message. I read the next one.

P.S. May your bread always toast evenly.

P.S. You have a very cute butt.

I laughed. My heart was across town in a house I despised, but her words still made me laugh.

I kept reading.

P.S. You make me feel safer than I ever have.

P.S. My stomach butterflies are demanding a raise from how much overtime you’re making them work.

P.S. You talk in your sleep, and it makes me smile.

P.S. You’re going to be a great dad.

P.S. I’m falling so hard for you, Elliot Levy.

My head fell forward, too heavy to hold upright anymore. What was I doing here on my own?

If Catherine wanted to live in that house, I’d move in with her.

When Liam showed up to meet Joey, I needed to keep my promise and be right there with them. They were my family. Those were my girls.

I couldn’t control everything, but this I could. Being there, no matter what. Showing Catherine I wasn’t going to leave, that she had every reason to feel safe with me, and proving she could keep falling because I wasn’t going anywhere.

I looked at the clock.

Almost midnight.

Too late to storm over there and take back my family.

This was it, though. The last night we’d live apart. Tomorrow, I’d have them back.