by Lisa De Jong
“Yeah, it’s getting late.”
Our fingers entwine as he leads me out to his old Trans Am. It just brings back more memories. “I almost forgot about Frank,” I remark as he holds the passenger door open for me.
He leans over, smiling. I missed that smile. “How can you forget Frank? He’s me with wheels.”
I laugh as he shuts my door and runs along the front of the car to jump in the driver’s seat. “I missed that laugh,” he says before putting the key in the ignition.
“I missed your smile.”
“I missed having something to smile about,” he adds before taking off down the dark street. The car purrs the same way I remember it, filling the silence between us. I’m still not completely sure how we got here, but it feels real.
I hope it’s still real when I wake up in the morning.
THINGS DON’T ALWAYS GO as planned. I should know that better than anyone.
Pierce’s car waits in front of the building as the Trans Am pulls up. If a million scenarios flashed through my mind for how this would all end, it wouldn’t be like this. This is not how I wanted him to find out. It’s all happening too fast.
Blake grabs my arm as I reach for the handle. “I’m coming with you. There’s no way I’m leaving you here alone with him.”
“No. I need to do this … I owe it to him.”
He doesn’t let go, and I spot Pierce walking toward the car out of the corner of my eye. Tiny little spots impede my vision. My hands go numb.
“Please, Blake. I’ll call you after he leaves,” I promise. Blake is fuel. Pierce is a match. I’m not letting myself get caught in the fire.
“I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t have to. Just trust me.”
I practically see the wheels turning in his head before he loosens his grip. “If I don’t hear from you in the next hour, I’m coming back.”
Without another word, I step out onto the curb just as Pierce reaches the car. Blake revs the engine, speeding down the street before he can witness anything that follows. This is the most awkward place to be. I kind of understand why some choose to just run. It’s the coward’s way out, but it’s so much easier.
One look at me—the paint that covers my clothes—and the look on Pierce’s face tells me he knows something isn’t right. I’ve never ended things with anyone before, and I’m going to start with a man who didn’t even do me wrong.
A man who helped me out of some of my darkest times.
A man I love.
“We need to talk.” My voice shakes as the words tumble out.
He glances up at the night’s sky then back to me. “Where?”
“Not here. Let’s go upstairs.”
He follows me in silence, his shoes hitting the steps in the same rhythm as mine. The hallway seems too short, and my hand shakes uncontrollably as I attempt to unlock the door.
“Here,” he says, taking the key from between my fingers.
It opens too easily. I walk in first, setting my bag on the counter and slipping my sandals off. I do everything possible to give myself an excuse not to look back. He has to have an idea of what’s to come; the air around us has completely changed from what it was earlier today.
My mind is so foggy that scripting what I want to say is impossible. Predicting how he might react is even harder. If I could just have one more night, I think to myself.
“Are you going to start talking?”
I turn to him, my lips part, but nothing works its way out. There’s no way to do this without hurting him. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.
“Lila,” he begs, shaking my shoulders. “You’re scaring the hell out of me. Say something.”
“It’s him,” I whisper, my eyes misting over.
“What did he do?”
I shake my head, the first tear carving a path down my cheek. Knowing what my heart wants doesn’t make this any easier. “I love him. I tried to convince myself I’d fallen out of it, but he’s the one.”
He steps back, hands falling away from me. “What are you saying?”
“Do you really want to hear it?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I love you, but I love him more. I love him differently.”
His fingers tug at his hair as I watch his face turn red. “He left you.”
“And he came back.”
He lowers his head, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “He’ll do it again. You don’t know him like I do.”
“That’s the thing, Pierce. I know he could leave again tomorrow or the next day, and I’m willing to take that chance. And you don’t know him like I do.”
He’s silent, and there’s not much more I can say.
“Have you thought this through?” he asks. “Because it didn’t seem to be on your mind this afternoon.”
There’s the proverbial knife to my heart.
Pierce became my everything because I convinced myself for a few short months that Blake wasn’t. There are a bunch of what ifs. What if I’d never moved to Chicago? What if Blake had never left? What if he’d never come back? What if he hadn’t forced me to see him the way he sees me?
That’s all life is—a series of what ifs. There’s not a fork in the road … there’s a whole freaking maze of silverware.
With two steps, he is standing right in front of me lifting my chin until our eyes are level. “Did you sleep with him?”
I shake my head vehemently until his hand falls away. “No, I’d never do that to you. We kissed, but that was as far as I let it go. I was going to talk to you tomorrow. I—”
He interrupts. “Think about it overnight. Don’t do anything you’re going to regret when you wake up in the morning.”
“That’s the thing, Pierce. My thoughts may change, but my feelings won’t. You deserve someone who can give all of herself to you … someone who’ll love only you.”
Walking past me, he peers out the window, hands tucked deep in his suit pockets. “This is partially my fault.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, staring at his back. I wonder if he can see my reflection in the window … the tears rolling down my cheeks.
“I knew you weren’t ready, but I pushed you anyway. You can’t blame a guy for wanting a chance.”
I cautiously walk toward him. “I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to,” I answer, hoping it’ll erase his guilt. I couldn’t have predicted things would work out the way they did. I didn’t even love Derek the way I love Blake.
“What about work?” he asks.
“I hadn’t even thought about it. I’ll put my resignation on your desk tomorrow if you’d prefer it.”
He finally turns back around. “That’s not what I want.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, nervously rubbing my fingers together.
He nods, closing the distance between us. “Yeah, I’m going to be out of town the rest of the week, so that will give us both time to adjust. We’re scheduled back in New York in a few weeks, and I need you there for that.”
“I just want you to be okay,” I whisper, doing everything I can to hold myself together. He’s too good of a man to have ever gotten mixed up with me.
His hands cradle my face as he leans in to kiss my forehead. I close my eyes as his lips linger there, tears streaming. “Loss isn’t something that’s new to me. It may not be tomorrow, but I’ll be okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat over and over again.
“I should have asked you to dinner the night we met.”
The knife he’d already lodged twists. I’m not the only one with what ifs. Something tells me I’ll always be one of his.
“I should get going so you can get some rest. I have an early flight to catch in the morning.”
I nod, wondering if the trip was planned before he got here, or if it’s just his way of running away.
He starts toward the door.
“Hey,” I say, pulling his attention back to me. “Why did you stop by ton
ight?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he says reaching for the door.
“I was just curious.”
There’s a pause. I practically hear him thinking from across the room. Then, in a moment I’ll never forget, he pulls a little black box from his pocket holding it in the air without looking back. “You’re my Blake.”
Disbelief and sadness render me speechless as I watch him walk out my door for what will probably be the last time.
Falling to the floor, I fold my arms over my legs, resting my forehead on my knees. If I didn’t get this one right, I’ll regret it every second for the rest of my life. Every. Last. Second.
Time passes as I let the tears fall. I relive the memories. I thought having Blake back would make it a little easier, but it doesn’t. I hurt someone I love, and what’s to come after doesn’t matter so much right now.
When I’m too tired to cry, I finally pull my phone from my purse.
Lila: Come home, please.
Ten seconds later, I have a reply.
Blake: Open the door.
I climb to my feet, practically running for the door. He’s standing on the other side of the threshold, staring down at me. The color drains from his face then he pulls me into his arms, letting me soak his t-shirt in tears. “I hate that I put you through that,” he murmurs against my hair.
“You didn’t make me do anything,” I cry.
“If I’d never left, you wouldn’t have been with him to begin with.”
There’s truth to that, but I made my own choices. “How did you get here so fast?”
He walks us slowly back into the apartment, shutting the door behind us. “I’ve been standing outside the door for twenty minutes waiting for you to tell me you’re ready.”
“Can you just hold me tonight?” I ask trying to see him the best I can with swollen eyes.
“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
I FELL ASLEEP LAST NIGHT knowing my old idea of perfect walked out the door, but that my new ideal was curled up next to me.
I woke up this morning only regretting that someone had to be hurt in the process. I don’t regret my choice or how quickly I made it. Blake is still worth risking everything for.
You fall, and you get back up, but it shouldn’t be enough to just walk. Floating is better. Seeing the world from another angle. And when you decide to walk again, you should control where you land.
He kisses my shoulder then brushes my hair away to place another on the back of my neck. He held me until I fell asleep, and every time I shifted during the night, he reined me back. Blake isn’t the safe choice, but he makes me feel protected. The rest doesn’t really matter.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks, his lips blazing a path to the other shoulder.
“Once I fell asleep, I did. You?” It’s hard to talk when he’s touching me.
“I kept waking up to make sure you were still here … making sure my dream didn’t turn into a nightmare.”
I open my eyes, too scared to admit I fear the same thing. Since I was young, I swear that every spoken fear that slips from my lips comes true. Some things are better left unspoken.
“You can catch up on your sleep while I’m at work,” I mumble, closing my eyes and sinking further into him.
His lips still against my skin. “I don’t want you working with him anymore.”
“I need to work, Blake. Besides, we’re in the middle of the hotel project, and I can’t just walk away from that.”
“Work with me.”
I laugh, nervously. “I’m not a painter.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“It’s not good for us to spend all our time together. The nights will be better if you haven’t seen me all day.”
He sits up, looking over me. “My days will be agony knowing you’re with him.”
“He’s gone the rest of this week, and it’s not like my desk is in his office.”
“Have you ever thought about moving away from here? Starting somewhere new.” He grabs my hand in his, his gaze bouncing from my face to the bed then back to me.
I shift, sitting up next to him. “I’ve done that before. It doesn’t work.”
“Is Chicago where you always want to be?”
Leaning in, I press my lips to his. “I want to be where you are,” I whisper.
He smiles. I smile. Everything else just melts away.
“What if we compromise? I’ll finish up this project, and then I’ll look for something else. We’ll be working together anyway.”
“I trust you,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips.
“Thank you.”
We sit side by side, hand in hand until time leaves me no choice than to get out of bed. “I need to get ready for work.”
“Can’t you call in?” he asks, wrapping his arms tightly around me.
“No. I have to work on those penthouses Wade wants before I go back to New York.”
“But you’re all mine tonight, right?”
I nod, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “All yours.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“I do to,” I admit.
As I get dressed, I realize that Blake hasn’t actually said he loves me since that night he left so many months ago. Deep down, I know this isn’t a game to him, but those three words would mean so much. It would solidify my belief that I made the right decision … that they weren’t just spoken in a moment when he thought he’d never see me again.
I slip my heels on with only a few minutes to spare before I have to be at the train stop. God only knows where my mind will venture to on today’s ride.
Blake stands in the kitchen making breakfast like he always does. I wrap my arms around his bare stomach, resting my cheek against his back. “I hope you’re only cooking for one. I have to get going.”
“You need to start eating better,” he remarks, covering my hand with his.
“I’ll grab something on the way in.”
“Here,” he says, handing me a smoothie. “Start with this.”
I take a slow sip. It’s my favorite—strawberry banana. “That’s just what I needed.”
“I know.” He grins, a single dimple forming.
“I need to go,” I say, looking at the clock on the microwave. After picking up my bag from the chair, I kiss him one last time before heading out the door.
Love is complicated, and in its best form, it’s unspoken. It shows in the things we do, not what we say.
Blake may not say he loves me, but his gestures tell me everything I need to know.
Not surprisingly, Reece is waiting at my desk when I get to the office.
“You couldn’t wait, could you?” I say, setting my things on my desk.
“My life is boring.”
“Find yourself a boyfriend.”
She sighs. “I’ve tried, but no one compares to my book boyfriends so I’m just going to stick with them for a while.”
“There are certain things book boyfriends can’t do for you.” Kissing. Sex. Orgasms. Conversation … I guess that’s important, too.
“I know,” she groans. “It’s just my excuse until I find a guy.”
I can’t help but smile as I take in her bright green shift dress with white polka dots. Her thick-rimmed black glasses top it off perfectly. Somewhere in this office is a guy who thinks about her late at night when he lies in his empty bed.
“You’ll find him.”
“So, back to the whole reason I walked all the way over here … what happened after you left Charlie’s last night?”
I give her the short, condensed version, leaving out the part about the little black box. Her mouth gapes. Mine probably would, too.
Her expression is pained as I finish. “Are you sure you made the right decision?”
“Yes,” I answer with no hesitation.
“I can’t keep up. Your life is like a tennis match, I swear.”
“The game is over now.” I smile, feeling in a b
etter place than I have been in months.
She backs away a couple steps. “Is it too early to ask if your leftovers are off limits?”
“Reece!”
Raising her hands, she says, “You can’t blame a girl for asking. Not that I’m his type.”
“Give yourself some credit.”
She walks away in a huff. “I’ll work on it while I continue to live vicariously.”
I shake my head, quickly getting lost in the re-dos for the hotel project. For whatever reason, what has happened over the past few days has shown me that I have the strength to get through anything.
This project is mine to either exceed or fail in. I’m not going to let myself fail.
The train ride home seems like an eternity. My eyes were glued to the clock all afternoon, waiting for the time when I could make my way back home to Blake. There’s still so much we haven’t worked through.
It’s no surprise, but I didn’t hear a word from Pierce all day. It’s not surprising that he needs his space, but I still want to know that he’s doing okay. I know how it feels to be on that end of things, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone … especially him.
My phone vibrates.
Mallory: Can you talk?
Lila: You’re still up?????
Mallory: Obviously. Can you talk or not?
Lila: Y
My phone rings five seconds later. I accept, not bothering to even see who it is first.
“Hey,” she says, sounding slightly panicked.
“What’s up? You should be in bed.”
“I talked to my brother earlier. He was chipper.”
My lips curl, thinking about the way he was this morning.
“What happened?” she asks when there’s nothing but silence on my end.
“I realized that no matter how much better for me Pierce may be, I’d always love Blake. Always be in love with Blake.”
She sighs heavily. I picture what she must look like—hair pulled up, glasses on, frustrated as hell. “He hasn’t worked through all his crap yet, Lila, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. He deserves someone like you after everything he’s been through, but I don’t think this is the right time. Go slow and tread carefully.”
“I understand him better now, and I’m not going to let him push me away. I want to help him because that’s what you do when you love someone.”