never bothered to ask him to return the keys to my apartment, just as he hadn't asked for his back. So once he was past the lobby, keeping him in the hallway would be impossible. I could put the chain on the door but the way my luck was going, he'd probably kick the door in.
I could call Michael or Jeffery, but neither would arrive in time to keep him from having his say. Besides, I wasn't so sure Michael wouldn't just urge me to hear him out.
I didn't fear him so I decided to let him have his damned say. Once he had, I'd either get my keys back before he left or I'd change my code and my locks. I released the buzzer and walked into the living room to wait for him.
When he rang the bell outside my door, I ignored him. Several minutes later, I looked up from the sofa as he stalked into the living room.
I don't know what I expected him to say or do, but as usual, he surprised me. He crossed the room with a bag in his hand, knelt in front of me, and took my hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Sherlyn. I had no right to even touch his picture. Throwing it across the room was unforgivable."
"And yet you expect me to forgive you," I said, pulling my hands from his.
"I do. Not because I deserve it, but because I know you have a forgiving heart."
I shook my head. "I've had a long, hard day. Just say what you have to and then please just leave me alone."
He rose and shocked me by reaching for Don's picture that still sat on the coffee table. "If you..."
He picked up the bag and lifted a beautiful ornate gold frame that I recognized as having held the picture of his parents that sat on the end table by his favorite chair in his man cave.
"What are you doing with that?" I asked.
"It was too late to shop for a frame to replace the one I damaged so I thought I'd lend you this one until I could replace it." He carefully slipped Don's slightly bent picture inside the frame and placed it on the table, facing us.
I stared at him. "What did you do with your parents' picture?"
"I put it in an album until I get this one back from you."
He had three different pictures of his parents and one of his father with Am's mother in various rooms in his home. That he had bought the one I knew had contained his parent's wedding picture touched me. "Oh, Thomas, you shouldn't have."
He shrugged. "I knew they'd understand and I hoped this gesture would signify how sorry I am. I really do regret doing that, Sherlyn. If you don't believe anything else I say, please believe that."
"Why did you?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me."
He rose and walked over to stare out my living room window. "I'm sorry."
"So you said and I believe you, but that doesn't explain why you felt the need to try to damage the picture of a the only man—"
He swung around to stare at me." If you say the only man who ever loved you again, I'll..."
"You'll what?"
He quickly crossed the room and knelt in front of me again. "If you believe I'm sorry, why do you keep pushing? What do you want? You've known me long enough to know..."
"To know what?"
He took my hands in his and brushed his lips against my fingers. "To know that I have difficulty expressing my feelings."
I leaned back, surprised by the odor of alcohol on his breath. "Have you been drinking?"
He narrowed his gaze. "I'm almost forty-one, Sherlyn. That's old enough to not need permission to drink."
"I know, but I've never smelt alcohol on your breath. I've never even seen you drink."
"I generally don't drink but you've driven me to it." He laughed and rose. "Since the smell of it offends you, I'll take my drunken ass home to sleep it off." He turned and walked out of the room.
Am had once told me that all five of her brothers had solemnly promised their father that they would guard against alcoholism and that most of them, including Darkwater, didn't drink at all. The others only indulged in an occasional celebratory toast.
The thought of him drinking and driving scared me. I jumped up and ran after him. "Thomas!
I could call Michael or Jeffery, but neither would arrive in time to keep him from having his say. Besides, I wasn't so sure Michael wouldn't just urge me to hear him out.
I didn't fear him so I decided to let him have his damned say. Once he had, I'd either get my keys back before he left or I'd change my code and my locks. I released the buzzer and walked into the living room to wait for him.
When he rang the bell outside my door, I ignored him. Several minutes later, I looked up from the sofa as he stalked into the living room.
I don't know what I expected him to say or do, but as usual, he surprised me. He crossed the room with a bag in his hand, knelt in front of me, and took my hands in his. "I'm so sorry, Sherlyn. I had no right to even touch his picture. Throwing it across the room was unforgivable."
"And yet you expect me to forgive you," I said, pulling my hands from his.
"I do. Not because I deserve it, but because I know you have a forgiving heart."
I shook my head. "I've had a long, hard day. Just say what you have to and then please just leave me alone."
He rose and shocked me by reaching for Don's picture that still sat on the coffee table. "If you..."
He picked up the bag and lifted a beautiful ornate gold frame that I recognized as having held the picture of his parents that sat on the end table by his favorite chair in his man cave.
"What are you doing with that?" I asked.
"It was too late to shop for a frame to replace the one I damaged so I thought I'd lend you this one until I could replace it." He carefully slipped Don's slightly bent picture inside the frame and placed it on the table, facing us.
I stared at him. "What did you do with your parents' picture?"
"I put it in an album until I get this one back from you."
He had three different pictures of his parents and one of his father with Am's mother in various rooms in his home. That he had bought the one I knew had contained his parent's wedding picture touched me. "Oh, Thomas, you shouldn't have."
He shrugged. "I knew they'd understand and I hoped this gesture would signify how sorry I am. I really do regret doing that, Sherlyn. If you don't believe anything else I say, please believe that."
"Why did you?"
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Not to me."
He rose and walked over to stare out my living room window. "I'm sorry."
"So you said and I believe you, but that doesn't explain why you felt the need to try to damage the picture of a the only man—"
He swung around to stare at me." If you say the only man who ever loved you again, I'll..."
"You'll what?"
He quickly crossed the room and knelt in front of me again. "If you believe I'm sorry, why do you keep pushing? What do you want? You've known me long enough to know..."
"To know what?"
He took my hands in his and brushed his lips against my fingers. "To know that I have difficulty expressing my feelings."
I leaned back, surprised by the odor of alcohol on his breath. "Have you been drinking?"
He narrowed his gaze. "I'm almost forty-one, Sherlyn. That's old enough to not need permission to drink."
"I know, but I've never smelt alcohol on your breath. I've never even seen you drink."
"I generally don't drink but you've driven me to it." He laughed and rose. "Since the smell of it offends you, I'll take my drunken ass home to sleep it off." He turned and walked out of the room.
Am had once told me that all five of her brothers had solemnly promised their father that they would guard against alcoholism and that most of them, including Darkwater, didn't drink at all. The others only indulged in an occasional celebratory toast.
The thought of him drinking and driving scared me. I jumped up and ran after him. "Thomas!
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