“Yeah.” I nodded. “He was very sweet, but…”
“You still have no clue what to do?”
“Not a single one.” I adjusted in the seat. “I mean, we can lie to ourselves and both agree we’ll try the long-distance thing. But honestly, when does that ever work, if in the end I’m still not going back and he’s not going to leave?” I rubbed my face. “The idea of not being with him…”
“Feels like someone is gutting you with a cleaver, huh?” The waiter set down Stevie’s drink, her eyes latched on to the bubbles, sadness flickering over her face. I stared at her, seeing the deep pain she even held back from me.
“Chris?” I said softly.
Her lips twitched before she shook herself, forcing a smile on her mouth. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you. This is your night even if you don’t think so.”
“Stevie…” Her name was a plea. For once I wanted her to talk to me, open up. “I’m here for you, you know that, right?”
“Please.” She swished her hand, her sorrow rising off her like the bubbles in her glass. “I’m totally good. That’s what therapists are for.”
“You won’t go to one.”
“Total waste of time.” She took a large gulp. “The best therapy is sex… Speaking of, do you see Elsa over there? Hello, snow queen.”
My mouth opened to respond when my phone rang, buzzing loudly in my bag. Digging it out, a DC number flashed over the screen.
“Hello?” My stomach dropped to the floor.
“Hello, Jaymerson?” A familiar woman’s voice spoke on the other end. “This is Erika.”
The nerves that had loosened since I left the interview wound back together, clogging my throat.
“Hello, Erika.” My gaze met Stevie’s. Her eyes widened.
“Is this a good time to talk?” Erika asked evenly, her voice almost drowned out by the noise of the restaurant. I stood up, pointing to my phone as I made my way outside where it was quieter.
“Yes. Perfect time.” Dread still hung on my ribs like broken ornaments. I had already resigned myself to the fact I didn’t get it, but to hear it from her would twist the knife in the wound. Make it real.
“This was a very hard decision.” She sighed, filling my eyes with sorrow. Come on, Jayme, you already knew what’s she’s going to say. “We went around and around about it. Not all of us agreed. As you know, your education level and overall experience is less than what we usually take on for this internship.”
My lips pinched together, not able to respond, my heart soggy with tears.
“Dr. Phan thought it would be better if you reapplied in two years after some schooling,” she stated emotionless.
“I understand,” I croaked out.
“We came to the decision a few minutes ago…”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Not yet.
“If you are willing to take classes while you do the internship program, we are willing to look past this. The majority of us think your hands-on experience with the Accademia actually brings you level with most of our applicants, but schooling is still important. Is this something you are willing to do?”
“What?” My mouth had hit the pavement after her first sentence, my brain not fully registering the change in outcome. “I am sorry… Are you offering me the position?” My hand pressed into my stomach, dinner twisting around in my gut.
“Yes, Jaymerson, if you agree to taking classes,” she responded, making my legs dip. “Caterina was right, even as young as you are, I think you will flourish here.”
Oh. My. God.
I leaned against the wall, my legs wobbling underneath me.
“It will be a lot of hard work. You might wish you waited, but if you are willing to put in the work, then I’d like to formally invite you and welcome you to the Smithsonian family.”
My hand went to my mouth, try to hold back the happy sob forming in my chest.
“Yes. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Joy trailed down the side of my face in the shape of tears. “I will do whatever it takes.”
“That’s what I figured. Caterina told me you were a very hard worker. Leah will contact you tomorrow about housing and enrolling for your classes.” She cleared her throat. “Congrats, Jaymerson. We’ll be in contact soon. Have a good night.” The phone clicked before I could respond.
Blinking, I slid down the wall, my mind trying to play catch up, while I stared out into the night in shock. Time made no sense, my body unattached to earth.
“Whiskey?” Stevie’s face took over my view, her face twisted with concern. “Are you okay?”
I stared at her.
“Oh girl, was that them? I’m sorry…” She ran her hand over my hair.
“I got it,” I muttered so low I barely heard myself.
“What?”
“I got it.”
Stevie’s eyes grew three sizes, her mouth falling open.
“Seriously?” Excitement filled her eyes. “You got the internship?”
I nodded
With a scream, Stevie leaped up, repeating, “My Whiskey is in the Smithsonian!”
“Okay… congrats.” A guy passed us, looking at her like she was crazy. “That whiskey must be very special.”
Stevie grinned at me, unadulterated pride and happiness tugging at her mouth. “It is.”
I realized the next week would be stressful, but I had no idea how much. Housing in DC was much more expensive and harder to find than I thought. The internship was paid, but it was barely enough to cover an apartment and food. After a few visits, I finally found a minuscule studio with a hot plate in Foggy Bottom. I imagined I’d be eating at the museum most days. Online art history classes through George Washington University were all I could get at this late date, but for my first semester I preferred that, wanting to get familiar with the workload.
Once my parents saw the museum and my new apartment, Dad relaxed and became very excited for me. Our relationship was shifting again, but this time it was bringing us closer. He kept hugging me and telling everyone who passed where I worked, pride glinting in his eyes. Mom already had plans to visit me regularly, saying she loved it was only a train ride away.
Kayla was also understanding when I had to quit without notice. I hated doing that to her, but she told me not to worry, that there were plenty of people wanting the job.
Realizing she no longer needed to wait for me, Stevie headed back to New York. It was only a three-hour train ride between us, and we planned on visiting each other often.
Everything was checked off my list. My car packed and ready to leave. No reason to stay… except one.
Because of his schedule and mine, we had barely seen each other, our texts and calls filled with an understanding we didn’t want to say out loud.
“Hey.” He smiled softly from the top step as I walked up the path to Dougie’s house.
“Hi.” I stopped at the bottom, staring at him.
“Looks like you’re all packed.” His chin flicked to my jeep.
“Yeah.” I nodded. I had already said goodbye to my family. I wanted to spend my last night in town with Hunter.
He swallowed, stepping down to me. Each time we tried to talk, we went around in a circle, neither of wanting to break up, but we had no miracle solution for our situation either.
“Hunter...” Grief filled my throat.
“No.” He cupped my face, tilting it up. “I don’t want to talk.” His eyes burned with a fusion of need and sadness. “Not tonight.”
I gritted my teeth, nodding in agreement. There was nothing left to say. No matter how we felt, what we went through, life didn’t give us a perfect ending. No happy bow tied on the end of all our grief like the universe owed it to us.
The only thing I knew as he picked me up and carried me to his bedroom, slowly stripping me of my clothing, was that I would never stop loving Hunter or regret all the bumps in the road which led us here. I had no idea what the future held, I just wanted to
be in this moment with him.
We didn’t speak one word all night, our hands and mouths expressing everything we felt, worshipping every inch of each other’s body.
In the morning he woke me with a kiss, sliding deep inside me, taking me with raw ferociousness, slamming everything he had into me. I wanted more, greedy for everything, tears rolling down my face, my heart breaking as we climaxed together.
Panting, we stared at each other. My mouth parted to finally speak, but he leaned down, his lips hungrily claiming mine, then he pulled away, got up, grabbed some clothes, and walked out. Never looking back.
The goodbye was exactly like the man himself. Silent and stoic but felt in every fiber of my being.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Holy crap, I’m tired.” My friend’s head fell on the stack of research spread over the table. “I can’t imagine doing this and school as well.”
“Me neither. Who would be stupid enough to do that?” I groaned, twisting my neck to look at my coworker and friend, Molly. She was about my height with dark skin and light eyes, her shoulder-length curly hair had been wrapped up in a messy bun. Four years older than me, she was a recent graduate from Georgetown University. Out of the handful of fellow interns, she and I had grown the closest over the last month. Since there were only eight of us, we had become a tight-knit group, bonding over the long days and strenuous work. We spent a lot of time after hours hanging out at a local pub together while they teased the youngster, me, who still had to order soda and steal drinks from them.
“I think I’m done; my eyes are so blurry I’m seeing two of you.” Molly leaned back in her chair, her neck popping as she rubbed it. “Are you meeting us later? Ami and Dwayne are still fighting about who won darts last week.”
Flipping a page, I chuckled at the memory of Ami, the tiny five-foot slip of a thing when she was standing on her toes, poking at the guy who could be in the NBA. It was obvious to everyone they were crushing on each other.
“I think so. I need to finish this and check to see if I have anything due for my course.” My time at the Galleria felt like a vacation compared to this past month. As hard as I worked in Italy, people there worked to live. My life had been as much about great meals and socializing. In America, people lived to work, especially here where my supervisors demanded everything from us, and lunch was a luxury. There had been a few times in the past weeks I thought I would snap. I was just starting to feel I was getting my shit together. I fit in homework from the two online courses I was taking whenever I wasn’t here. But deep down I loved it. It’s where I belonged.
“Girl, when do you sleep?”
“I don’t.” I shut the folder I had been looking at. Mustard yellows and pinks painted the windows like the artwork above my head, telling me I had been in this office for most of the day.
“I’m out. I need a drink and tacos.” Molly stood with a groan, stretching her arms over her head. “We can finish this tomorrow.” She watched me for a moment, her gaze burning into my face. “I know I asked you this already, but are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” I pinched my lips together, shoveling back the rush of grief wanting to bubble up today. “I’ll see you later.” I waved her off.
“O-kay. If you say so.” She turned for the door. “Hope to see you soon.” She waved, pushing through the doors.
With a sigh I leaned back in my chair, looking up at the vibrant pigments shading the room, the quiet of the room coiling around me like a snake. The one thing I had realized in settling into my new schedule was that my life being less chaotic gave me more time for all the things I didn’t want to think about. All the people I missed.
Especially today.
The ache in my chest was so constant I sometimes didn’t even notice the heaviness sitting on my heart, the sorrow hanging on my soul. The first couple of weeks I was so busy, I didn’t even know what day it was, passing out in my bed the moment I reached home. But it didn’t stop him from tormenting me, from me dreaming about him. I would be working and find my thoughts drifting to him.
I missed Stevie and my family a lot, but Hunter was a huge gap in my soul.
Digging in my pocket, I pulled out my cell, staring at the screen. The last text I sent Hunter was a week ago, saying I missed him.
No reply.
I knew this would happen. The text and calls would grow less and less until one of us didn’t answer. We had been here before. Our destinies set on repeat. I had hoped this time would be different, that our scars and pain connecting us across time and space were for a reason.
Nothing was lonelier than standing in a bar full of people and feeling utterly alone, longing to see one face in the crowd. Feel his arms around me like I had come home.
I loved my life, where I was and what I was doing, but a piece of me felt empty.
And today of all days, it was almost unbearable.
Two years ago today my entire world was shattered. Broken. One stupid decision and three lives were changed forever. There were parts of me that died with Colton, pieces not strong enough to rise from the flames.
With Hunter, the other pieces learned to fly, to soar beyond the world I knew and see who I could be. It hurt knowing it had taken Colton’s death to bring me here now. Where I knew what real love felt like.
Running a hand over my tattoo, a tear slipped down my face. The moment I woke up, I felt heavy and sad, like my body knew before I even realized the date. The memory was so strong, so visceral, I could smell the alcohol he drank that night, taste the bitter tang of blood as I bit my lip, hear the screeching of tires, the crunching of metal and bone.
The counselor had told me I would probably suffer from survivor’s guilt and PTSD for many years, and it would surface at obscure times. Colton had been dead two years, and most had moved on, but I hadn’t. I always thought I was getting better, but randomly a night would cripple me with nightmares. In the dream, I knew we were going to get into an accident, but I was never able to stop it. And in them, I would peer over and see Hunter dead instead of Colton, my heart shattering into twisted fragments.
Shaking my head, I pushed away the agony climbing over me. Time did make things a bit better, but I didn’t doubt the accident would haunt me the rest of my life. Standing up, I grabbed my bag, straightening the pile of research on the table before turning out the lights and directing myself to the exit.
The muggy air knocked me over the moment I stepped outside the air-conditioned building. Summer still clung to the air, but threads of autumn shifted the colors of the trees. The sun sat low on the horizon, about to give its final bow for the evening.
I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder strolling down the steps, when my gaze landed on a figure at the bottom. I gasped, freezing in place.
Hands in his pockets, leaning against the railing, Hunter’s blue eyes locked onto mine.
Holy. Shit. It had only been a month, but he looked even sexier than I remembered. Scruff lined his strong jaw, broad shoulders stretching out his dark gray T-shirt, tattoos scrolling down his one arm, his jeans riding low on his hips.
“Hey.” His dimple dented the side of his cheek.
“What are you doing here?” Slowly, I took a step down, shaking my head in disbelief, afraid if I moved quickly he would disappear.
“That’s not what you should be asking.” He pushed off the railing moving until I was the step above him. My pulse thumped against my neck, air catching in my throat, his smell and nearness overwhelming me.
“What should I be asking?” I whispered.
“What took me so long.” He inched closer, his voice rumbling.
“What do you mean?” My chest fluttered in and out.
“The last month I’ve been in hell. I’ve become such an asshole even Doug can’t be around me. He thinks I’d be better as a ‘silent’ partner at the garage.” He exhaled. “I should have known the moment we were assigned that English assignment together you would completely unhinge me.”
My brows furrowed.
“It wasn’t only Colton’s death that changed me.” He twined his fingers through the ends of my hair. “You have challenged me, fought me, and made me see things I didn’t want to see.” He wagged his head. “You were right. I was hiding. Using the garage and even Cody as a reason not to take a chance again. Colton’s death woke you up. You fought for what you wanted. You go after it. I went the opposite way… I hid. I accused you for so long of being blind, when I was the one who was. I didn’t want to see I was letting my life slip away. Living a life I hated but was too scared to change.”
His hand cupped my neck.
“One time I asked you to follow me, and I get now why you couldn’t. It wasn’t fair of me. That wasn’t your dream. I’ve realized this last month that you will never have to ask me again, because wherever you are, I want to be. You are my dream. I want to follow you. I want more than working at the garage, doing the same thing every day, staying stuck in that town.”
My legs trembled at his words, my chest pumping with hope.
“What about Krista and Cody?”
“We had a long talk, and we both agree neither of us was being fair to the other, or even the kids. Cody is young; he will adjust easily to calling me uncle instead. He has a right to know Colton was his real father.” Hunter’s forehead brushed against mine. “I will still be in his life. He is my nephew, my blood, and I want to be there for him whenever he needs me. Even in death, Colton is his father, not me, but I will be the best fuckin’ uncle.”
A smile pulled at my lips. “I have no doubt about that.”
“Mom has changed so much, and this time she is very eager to spend time with Cody. Before, it was too painful for her, but now she sees how a piece of Colton lives on and wants to be part of Cody’s life and get to know him. She’s already invited Krista and Cody to her new place to spend some time with them.”
“That’s amazing. I am happy for her… for all of you.” I licked my lips, his touch spreading tingles over my skin.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, his grip on me constricting. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Broken Love (Blinded Love Series Book 2) Page 31