8 Weeks

Chapter Nine

Chapter 9 -Cal

I was on my way to meet with Shelly. My palms were sweating and my stomach was rolling. I'd never been so nervous in my life.

I'd been a wreck since the last time I'd seen her.

I couldn't believe she was talking about a divorce; it was the last thing in the world I wanted. Shelly was everything to me, and I couldn't imagine my life without her.

I was so messed up, I worried that Scott was on the verge of kicking me out.He said he was tired of my stinky, miserable ass, permanently indented on his couch. I knew he was fuckin' with me, but he had a point. I needed to get my shit together if I ever even hoped to getShelly back.

I had to come up with a plan. A plan to make her give me a chance to make up for the mistake I'd made. There had to be a way that we could get past this and heal.

Yes, on paper it seemed unforgivable.

But ... I had to believe that she could. She'd always been it for me, and nothing was more important than keeping her as my wife.

I pulled up to the park Shelly'd told me to meet her at. She'd wanted to meet somewhere public, but without a lot of people around.

I was pretty upset that she seemed to distrust me on every level, but understood that she was hurt.

I would be too, if it were the other way around.

I saw her sitting at a picnic table under a giant oak with leaves of copper, red, and a deep russet, her long dark hair wavy and flowing in the breeze. The picture she made took my breath away, and I stood there, committing it to memory, beforeI walked forward to meet her.

"Hey," I said as I got closer, causing her to jump a bit on the bench.

She looked up at me warily, and I felt that look punch me in the gut.

I had the feeling she was not here to tell me she was ready to give us another shot. I was going to have to buy myself some time.

"Hi," Shelly responded.

I sat down across from her and folded my hands in front of me. I was nervous and felt awkward. Two things I'd never been around Shelly in my life. Even when we started dating.

"So," she began, then stopped, clearing her throat nervously. "There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it ... I've been thinking, and we need to put the house on the market as soon as possible. You never know how long it'll take to sell, and neither of us make the kind of money that would allow us to pay for two houses at once."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked, anger and hurt mingling together in my tone. "You asked me here to talk, yet it sounds like you've already decided not to give our marriage a chance."

"I told you the other day at Dad's house that I wanted a divorce," she said,refusing to meet my eyes.

"Shit, Shel,we haven't discussed anything at all. You won't accept my calls.You won't see me. You're just jumping straight to ending it. I mean, have you thought of counseling or anything? I'll do whatever it takes, Shelly."

She shook her head sadly at me. "Cal, I don't think I'll ever be able to get over the fact that you slept with someone else, after six years of being together. I hate it. I can't even stand to think about it. You betrayed me."

The last she said in a whisper, making the full effect of her words wash over me like a million tiny pinpricks.

"I don't want a divorce," I responded, reaching for her hand. She took it quickly off of the table before I could touch her. "I love you, Shelly, andI'm willing to do anything."

"There's nothing you can do."

"I'll quit drinking. Never go out with the guys again. I'll prove to you how much I love and respect you, Shel."

"That's not a life, Cal. I don't want you to give up everything and never leave my sight. I want what we had, a relationship of love and trust, andI just don't think it's possible for me to have that relationship with you again."

I felt desperate, frantic at the thought of losing her.

"I won't sign divorce papers."

Shelly's head shot up and her green eyes bore into me.

"Why would you want to make this harder? I don't want to fight with you,Cal."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to make it harder, and I don't want to fight with you,"I implored. "But I will fight for you, Shelly. Give me a chance to."

She was shaking her head again, and a plan formulated in my mind.

"Give me eight weeks," I said desperately.

"I'm not going to live with you for eight weeks, Cal."

"No, I get that," I responded. "Give me eight Saturdays. Eight dates where it's just the two of us. Give me time to show you why we're so good together, and that I'm willing to bend and compromise to make our marriage work."

Shelly looked at me thoughtfully.

"Why eight?"

"One week for each year that we've been together."

"Eight weeks?" she asked, as if trying to decide whether she could stand to wait that long.

I nodded, hoping my outside looked calmer than my insides.

Shelly was quiet for a few minutes. I sat there, scared to death that she'd say no, but hopeful that she'd agree.

Finally, she looked me in the eye and started to talk.

"I want to move forward on selling the house. We need to move our stuff out and divvy everything up. I won't put everything on hold for eight weeks, but if it will take eight dates to get you to sign the paperwork, without a fight, I'll agree."

The thought of moving out, living separately,and selling our house made me fear that one day a week with her may not be enough to get Shelly to realize she still loved me, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Okay, I'll get my stuff out, and we can have Sasha put the house up for sale,but I want eight real dates, Shelly. You have to keep an open mind,and give me a chance."

"They will be just dates, Cal. No sex."

"We can play that by ear," I said. When she looked at me warily I added, "I'm not going to attack you, Shel. Give me a break."

"Sorry," she said softly. "I just want to establish rules. And, Cal, you need to know, I don't think eight weeks is going to change anything. I'm still going to want a divorce."

"Please," I pleaded desperately. "Give it a shot."

She nodded again, then stood to leave.

"I'll contact Sasha when I get home."

I sat there as she walked away, watched her drive off, then stared up at the old oak.

Shit, I had to come up with eight dates. They had to be romantic or mean something to us as a couple. Maybe I had to think of some things that she always wanted to do, but we hadn't done because of me, to show her that I was willing to do whatever she wanted in order to keep her as my wife.

I needed to get together with Scott and TJ and get some advice. They'd certainly been on a lot more dates than I had.