I considered these choices.
I loved Ronnie, I loved him a lot. I loved the way he could make me laugh and the look in his eyes when he looked at me, even early on, when his future was bright, he’d look at me like he couldn’t believe his luck. I loved that he gave me a family. I loved our quiet moments when I could forget our lives were a complete mess and that shadow he cast blocked out the sun. No matter what Ty said about Ronnie, and he was probably right, still, I knew there was something there for Ronnie, something he got from me. And I liked giving it to him so I did it even longer than I should.
But even though I had years with Ronnie and only five good days with Ty Walker, I knew, if he let me in, I could love him more than Ronnie. With all that I gave to Ronnie, all the devotion, every last chance, I still knew I could love Ty more. I didn’t know how I knew it but by the time we hit the “Welcome to Carnal” sign, I knew it down to my bones.
But I didn’t need this shit anymore. I’d broken my back and laid a man in the ground who couldn’t have an open casket because his face was blown off even though I’d spent years begging him to leave that life behind, a life that could lead to that and it did. Now I was with a man who bought a bride and needed hundreds of thousands of dollars to take care of some unknown business, who could give me something beautiful, snatch it away and calmly stand opposite me and talk to me about my * coming with a chain.
I didn’t need that shit.
I’d been right while searching for a wedding dress. I’d been wrong about changing my mind.
I needed to give up while the giving up was good.
Deciding (again) to do that, I dragged myself out of bed and went to the bathroom.
The interior of Ty’s house was more awesome than the exterior. He didn’t have a lot of stuff but what he had was excellent quality, stylish and expensive. This was probably why he didn’t have a lot because, before his life was interrupted, he’d been patiently accumulating, buying the best, happy to wait until he could afford the next addition because it had to be right, what he wanted, the “nice shit”.
I didn’t know if he bought the condo at build but either he or the people who ordered it had to have chosen every upgrade. Gleaming marble tile in the bathrooms. Shining oak floors. Fabulous slate floors in the kitchen. Top of the line appliances. Granite countertops in kitchen and in bathrooms.
The top bedroom was the entire floor though stuttered, the balcony off of it running the entire length but being the roof of the second floor. There was a staircase going through the middle of the house on the upper two floors which meant that there were three sections of the top bedroom. A wide back where the furniture was and two big areas on either side of the staircase that were void of anything. It had floor to ceiling windows too and the balcony off had a wooden railing. Completing this area were a huge bathroom with a big, oval tub that could fit two, a separate shower, a toilet in its own room and a very long counter with two basins and a huge mirror lit by fantastic, cool-as-shit lights as well as a large walk-in closet.
Ty only had a bed, two nightstands and two dressers in that room, one dresser tall, one long with a mirror. All this was handsome but sparse. There wasn’t even a rug to cover the floorboards under the bed, in fact, there were no rugs in the house because he obviously hadn’t gotten around to buying rugs.
There was an enormous amount of space left over. You could put couches and chairs up there. Have a TV space and a reading space, one on either side of the stairs. Deck furniture on the balcony with thick cushions, I’d pick lounges.
It was already fabulous but it could be spectacular.
I would, no doubt, never see that. I was pissed at Ty but I still hoped that he did whatever he had to do and then went back to building his life and filling it with “nice shit”.
The middle floor of the house had two bedrooms either side of the stairs, both with their own much smaller baths. Both had small balconies jutting out, made of decking. Neither had anything in them. Nothing. Except for some stuff stored in the closet of one, they were totally empty. At the back of the middle floor sandwiched between the bedrooms was a smaller room that Ty used for an office. It was the only room in the house that was carpeted. He’d furnished it. Big, fantastic desk, big backed, black leather swivel chair but the computer had obviously been purchased prior to his being sent to prison, it was at least five years old, maybe older. Still, it was there and I’d discovered it had internet I just didn’t know the passwords to access it.