How to Tame a Silver Fox novel · Chapter 21 of 32
Chapter 21: Not Leaving
His sedan stood in the lane under the dripping trees.
The trunk was shut, and the back seat held a duffel bag and a flat cardboard box.
He had packed, then, and he had not left.
I found him at the end of the dock in his coat with his back to the house, looking at the black water.
Wind lifted the surface in small cold scales.
I was in the green dress with my shoes in my hand and a split painting I had left on the porch.
"You heard him," I said.
He did not turn around.
"The door was open an inch."
"And you packed."
"He's right about one thing."
"Which thing?"
"I'd take it."
His voice was quiet and flat.
"If it meant you landed softly, I would take any deal in that room."
"So the kindest thing I can do is not be in the room."
"You think your name is a stain I'm wearing."
"I think it's a stone on your back."
"Everything he throws, he throws because of me."
"If I'm gone, there's nothing for him to hold you by."
"That's the stupidest sentence I have ever heard," I said, "and I once heard Junie explain a cryptocurrency."
He almost laughed.
I walked out along the boards until I was close enough to smell cold wool and soap.
"I said no before I knew you were listening," I said.
"You should think about it."
"I have." I put the shoes down. "I thought about it for as long as it took to say no."
"If I stay, he will keep coming at you."
"If you go, he will keep coming at me, and I'll do it without you. That isn't safer. That's lonelier."
"I am forty-one years old, and I have a record."
"I have a notebook. We are both well equipped."
This time he did laugh, one short breath, and it cracked in the middle.
He turned around.
In the dark his face was all hollows.
He looked torn, struggling against his own desire.
I stepped in until my chest touched his coat.
I put both hands on his face, as I had in the guesthouse.
The intent was different this time, and I think we both felt it.
"You are tamed," I said.
"I'm what?"
"Tamed. I won. You stay because you chose to, and that is my win."
"I haven't said it."
"I know you haven't said it."
"You said you'd lost everything since the pantry, and you've been losing ever since."
I held his jaw.
"So stay."
"That's presumptuous."
"I've got a clipboard."
He closed his eyes.
I felt the breath leave him, from his shoulders all the way down.
"I'm staying," Arlen said.
"Sit."
"Willa."
"Sit down on the dock, Arlen Rhodes."
He looked at me for one long second, grey eyes bright in the dark.
Then, with great dignity, he sat.
He sat on the end of the dock with his coat open and his hands flat on the boards.
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