I heard the news that you escaped the ball and chain. You must feel one hundred and four point three pounds lighter. Let me know if you need to talk.
I skip the one from Christopher and go to the last text I sent her, two days ago.
It’s been two days since I sent her the text asking her to talk, and it’s been crickets. All it says is delivered. I was lying down in my hotel bed, watching I don’t even know what, when all I wanted to do was talk to her. All I wanted to do was hear her voice. I couldn’t explain it, so I pulled up the email I had saved from her in my inbox. Instead of calling her like I wanted to, I sent her the text. I placed the phone on my stomach, thinking that she would get back to me but nothing. Nothing for the last two days. I start the car and begin driving, but instead of going to my house, I drive straight to her office. I spot one car in the parking lot and park next to it.
Getting out, I see that the sun is almost gone now. I jog up the steps to the office, pulling open the door. Taking a step in, I see there is no one there. I walk into the middle of the room and look around. The same room where, two months ago, my life changed yet again. I look over at the pictures on the walls, trying to calm down the erratic beating of my heart.
What the fuck are you doing here? my head asks, and I don’t even know if I can answer. Is she even here? I have no idea. The only thing I know is this is where she goes, so I had to show up.
I hear the sound of shoes coming closer and closer when she steps out of the hallway. She looks at me, shocked. “Matthew,” she says my name in a whisper. “Are you okay?” she asks, stepping closer to me, which gives me a chance to take her in.
She’s wearing white jeans this time, and I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her here in jeans. She has a brown belt on, and a light beige, long-sleeved sweater with cuffs rolled at her wrists. Her hair is back and in a ponytail.
“I texted you.” That is the only thing that comes out of my mouth, and I have to be thankful it isn’t a declaration of love because, at this point, I don’t know what is going on with me. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing this whole time that I haven’t been my true self. I’ve been biting my tongue and suppressing everything so now I feel like I’m a ticking time bomb, and with just one push, everything is going to pour out of me.
“Oh, yeah, sorry,” she says, avoiding my eyes. “I was…” She stops talking and finally looks up at me. It happens in slow motion really, or maybe it hits me like a freight train that I didn’t know was coming. It was in this room that my world got rocked not long ago, and I finally realized she was the one. That it’s always been her and I’m pretty fucking sure and I can bet my life it will always be her. “What is going on?” She puts her hands in front of herself as she wrings them together, and I know she is just as nervous as I am.
“We need to talk.” I can hear my father’s voice in my head. You have to go lightly. It’s been two years. You are both different. It’s only because of that I’m not pulling her to me and kissing the shit out of her. Just the thought has me rock hard. Looking down, I make sure my shirt is covering how I feel.
“We don’t, though.” Her tone is filled with sass. A vision of me pushing her against the wall, with my hands outstretched beside her head, while I devour her mouth, showing her how much we have to talk about fills my mind. I can literally taste the kiss on my lips.
“I owe you a dinner.” The minute the words are out of my mouth, I know I should have chosen other words. I know this because all she does is glare at me, which makes me want her even more. “Can I take you out to dinner?” I ask, knowing she is going to say no. Also knowing that this time it’s different, she isn’t getting rid of me so easily. I’m not the stupid kid I was before.
“No,” she replies without even thinking twice or pretending to think about it and then letting me down.
“Please,” I say softly.
She just looks at me. “What do you want?” She asks the same question I’ve been asking myself since I let out what really happened between us. I know what the end goal is, I just don’t know how to get there.
“Just to talk to you,” I admit softly. “I just want to talk to you. I think we should talk.” My heart flies from the pit of my stomach to my throat, and I’m thinking about getting on my knees and begging her if I have to.
“Fine,” she huffs and then takes a deep inhale. “Why don’t I text you when I’m done and we can meet?”