One Last Call Before Goodbye Chapter 03
Outside the window, the autumn wind sent golden leaves skittering with a soft rustle.
Darlene had taken painkillers beforehand, but the dull ache in her stomach was still more than she could bear.
“Let’s call it a day. You should go back to the hotel and get some rest. I’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow.”
She stood and pulled her collar tighter.
Marshall nodded.
Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he asked, “Hey, do you know any good spots around here for wedding photos? Something with that old New York feel.”
Darlene’s heart sank. “Yeah. The Kaufman Astoria Studios. They have some pretty good backlot sets for that sort of thing.”
As she spoke, she couldn’t help thinking of the woman on the phone and the intimate ease in her voice.
Was that woman his girlfriend? She wanted to ask, but didn’t dare.
Marshall seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil. “Alright. Show me around tomorrow, will you?”
She curved her lips into a smile. “Of course.”
The truth was, she was happy just to be with him, even if only for a minute. After all, she didn’t have much time left.
After they said goodbye, she took a cab home. The moment she stepped through the door, she couldn’t hold on any longer and collapsed to the floor.
The dull thud startled Louise, who was cooking in the kitchen. She ran out immediately.
Seeing Darlene lying weakly on the floor, she rushed over to lift her up. “Lena, are you okay? Come on, get up.”
Darlene lifted her head. Her ghostly pale face was streaked with tears.
“Louie… I think it’s even harder now. Getting over him. It hurts so much. I can’t breathe…”
She’d always believed she had the courage to face Marshall. But the aftershock of seeing him again swallowed her whole, suffocating her.
The memories, years old now, were like a rusted blade, stabbing into her heart over and over without mercy.
Louise’s tears fell as she held Darlene tightly, her heart breaking.
As the night deepened, Darlene slept more fitfully than ever.
In a daze, she thought she saw Marshall.
He was slumped on the floor in the darkness, clutching his phone, the lit screen showing her last message. “Let’s end it.”
“Why?”
With that single, shattered word, he looked up at her, his eyes filled with grief and desperation.
“Darlene, I fought so hard for us. I held on with everything I had. Why did you leave me?”
Darlene’s heart convulsed. She shook her head, desperate to explain.
“It’s not like that. I only agreed to Mrs. Hendrix’s terms because I didn’t want to drag you down—”
But he vanished before she could finish. A wave of weightlessness crashed over her, dragging her down as if into an abyss.
Her eyes flew open. Cold sweat beaded her pale cheeks.
That dream again. She’d explained herself to Marshall in her dreams more times than she could count. But in reality, she couldn’t even find the words.
Once she’d calmed down a little, she checked her phone. It was already 9:30 a.m. A message from Marshall had come in half an hour earlier.
“Heading out now.”
She scrambled out of bed and washed up quickly. After a hurried word to Louise, she headed out.
Kaufman Astoria Studios was in Queens. By the time Darlene got there, Marshall was already waiting.
He’d changed into a dark jacket today. The sunlight fell across his shoulders, softening him more than the day before.
Looking at him, for just a moment, Darlene had an illusion.
It felt like they’d never broken up, like this was just a date.
Like if she walked a little closer, he’d pull her into his arms the way he always used to.
Watching her walk toward him, Marshall said, “Morning.”
She smiled apologetically, “Sorry I’m late…”
“Don’t worry about it. I just got here,” he smiled back, his smile gentle but distant.
They walked inside, side by side. The ground was uneven flagstone, red-brick buildings lining either side, vintage advertisements pasted to the walls.
The whole place felt lifted straight out of a 1930s or 1940s movie. The air was thick with the aged, woody scent of dust and time.
Darlene twisted her fingers together, her thoughts drifting back to the dream from the night before.
Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her voice came out raw. “Marshall, the truth is, back then I—”
“How have you been these past few years?” Marshall cut her off, as if he wanted no part of revisiting the past.
Her eyes dimmed. “Pretty good. And you?”
His gaze drifted past the window of a vintage photo studio. “Same. Though I’m on the road for work a lot.”
For a moment, she didn’t know what to say.
Remembering the woman who’d answered his phone, and the reason he’d come here in the first place, she couldn’t stop herself. “Are you getting married?”
Marshall stopped mid-step, his gaze deepening as it fell on her face.
“Yes. So don’t think there’s any chance of us getting back together.”