Love Undefeated (Unexpected #5)

by Anne Leigh

  It was of Nales in a Strawberry Shortcake jumpsuit and a fishing rod in her right hand.

  “Her mom and Geniah hated fishing. Nalee’s the one who woke up with me at four in the morning to drive two hours away so I could unwind.” His voice started to crumble. Nalee often talked about how great of a father he was. I respected the man. One day when I had kids of my own, I could only wish to be at least half the man that my father was to me and how Nalee’s father was to his girls and I’d think that I’d have done a pretty decent job.

  “Her feelings will get hurt. You will argue with her. You’ll fight with her,” he said, his eyes still on Nalee’s picture. She must not have met Hello Kitty yet because I was quite sure if she had, she’d be wearing that cat’s outfit. “The most important thing is you help her get through it.”

  A spear just drove itself into my chest and punched a hole into my heart. When Nales needed me the most, I had left her.

  “I made quite a few mistakes, sir,” I confessed. I didn’t have to but for some reason, I wanted to come clean. “There was a time when Nalee needed me and I…ah…” It hurt to admit that I was wrong, not because I was ashamed to say it, but because I knew I dumped a colossal amount of pain on Nalee’s shoulders. “I wasn’t there for her.”

  “Will you do it again?” he asked, his eyes on me now. The hard lines on his face showed that he didn’t live an easy life. He had built his construction business with his own hands, starting as a painter and working sixteen to twenty hours a day so he could support his growing family. Nalee always got teary-eyed when she relayed the story of how hard her parents worked so she and Geniah could have good lives.

  I answered him with certainty, “No, sir. Never again.”

  The server came back with our orders. Mr. Sands looked at his watch and stated, “Can I get a box? I need to get going. Sorry to rush you, David.”

  I hadn’t even noticed the guy’s name. I looked at his shirt and he didn’t wear a name tag.

  “No problem. Another day at the office, huh? It’s gonna get muddy at the site.” It was obvious that David knew Mr. Sands because of the camarederie between them.

  My companion said, “Yep. It’ll be muddy as hell, but we gotta keep on truckin’.”

  David gave a tiny salute and left.

  Mr. Sands stood up and I followed suit. He dropped two twenties on the table to which I objected to, so I pulled out my wallet from my front right pocket.

  “No, sir. I got this,” I said, my right hand reaching to pull out the cash from my wallet. Thank God I had some. I always paid with my card; it was a miracle I even had twenty dollar bills.

  He shook his head and sliced his hand through the air, motioning for me to stop reaching for money in my wallet.

  “You take care of my daughter. Be there for her even when you don’t think she needs you. Stay with her when she’s hurting. You don’t need to give me expensive gifts for me to like you.” I’d given Nalee’s parents an all-expense, non-refundable weekend trip to Mexico for Christmas. Last time I asked Nalee, they had yet to use it. “All I ask is that you be honest with her, and even if you break her heart, treat her with kindness.”

  “I’m not going to break her heart, sir,” I provided a rebuttal. “I’ll do everything that I can to make her happy.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he said in a firm tone while David handed him his to-go bag.

  “I’m not making a promise, sir. I’m telling you the truth.” My hands were slightly shaking because I still hadn’t gotten a yes or no from him that I could marry Nalee. He could say no and I’d still ask Nalee. But it would be really nice if I’d gotten her old man’s blessing.

  He looked down to his phone and when he was done checking a message that pinged, he said, “It’s hard for me to trust another man with my daughter. I can’t choose for her. But from what I’ve gathered, she loves you.”

  “I hope so.” She hadn’t said it, but from her actions I felt her love.

  “Call her mama before you ask Nalee,” he instructed, showing me seven digits on his phone, his wife’s number, which I gladly punched into my phone’s new contacts list. “Ask her if Nalee wants to get married in a church or somewhere else. I’m too old for this destination wedding crap. They’re too damned expensive. My buddy Fred’s daughter got married in a remote island in Costa Rica and it cost him over three grand to book the hotel and airline.”

  I’d pay for Nalee’s family and a hundred of her cousins to fly over to the North Pole if her dad said yes.

  “But if Nalee wants to get married in an island with a bunch of locals dancing to Macarena, I can’t say no,” he continued, realizing that where and when we got married would actually be Nalee’s and my decision. “Just call her mama and tell her that I said okay.”

  A screech, a croak, a frog might have jumped out of my throat because a squeaky “Yes” escaped from it.

  He shook my hand and I accepted it with a huge relief that lifted off my shoulders.

  “Thank you,” I said, trying not to hyperventilate with all the adrenaline rushing into my blood stream. “You won’t regret it.”

  He looked at me before lowering his Ohio State black and red cap and said, “You’re not marrying me. You’re marrying my daughter. Make sure she doesn’t regret it.”

  With those words, he turned on his heel and left.

  I took a seat and absorbed the weight of the situation.

  Nalee’s dad just gave me his blessing.

  I had to call her mom to tell her the news without alerting Nalee of my proposal.

  I hadn’t even told my parents yet. They’d know when Nalee said yes.

  I couldn’t take a bite of my cheeseburger because my throat felt heavy with eagerness and anticipation.

  I wouldn’t make her regret saying yes to me.

  It’s not a promise.

  It’s my vow. A vow that I would hold until the end of time.

  I really wished I drank coffee.

  The strong, black, restart-your-heart kind.

  As it was, I could only tolerate the frappe ones. Sugary sweet and loaded with whipped cream.

  My watch indicated that I had run two and a half miles.

  Mornings like these were on my top faves. The ocean breeze clean and fresh, joggers running past me, the slow hum of the city barely waking up.

  Xavier was supposed to be back today. He had a shuttle pick him up from the airport because he was arriving early. When I woke up at seven fifteen, he still wasn’t at the house. I’d checked my phone and he’d texted that his plane was delayed by two hours, due to a maintenance issue. I had two missed calls and when I tried to call him back, it went straight to voicemail. His last text was, “Boarding now. See you in five hours.” That was over four and a half hours ago.

  He had a last minute business trip to Cleveland. I wish I could’ve gone with him. I could’ve driven to my parents’ house and spent the day with them. It would have been a two and a half hour drive, but I would’ve gone with him if it wasn’t for the new projects that Stephanie dropped in my inbox a week ago. I was happy to be busy. But when Xavier said he had to fly to Ohio, I seriously considered going with him.

  I stopped by a row of trees and touched one of the low-hanging leaves. The Victorian box bloomed small white flowers and emitted orange blossom-like perfume. In college, the university had rows and rows of these trees. Great memories flooded my mind whenever I smelled these scents. They reminded me of carefree, stress-free days.

  I checked my watch again. Xavier’s plane should have landed by now. I didn’t feel any vibrations in my pocket so he must still be deplaning.

  I stretched my legs and took off for another run.

  I passed small boutiques, parents walking with their kids, and a few walking their dogs. It made me smile. This was life. I’m certain that not everyone had a fairy-tale life, the mother walking with her son, who knew what challenges they faced? The older white haired gentleman sitting on the BART stop,
I wondered where he was off to. Was he meeting a special lady? His kids? Maybe a friend?

  My breath picked up the pace as I ran harder, and I started feeling the familiar burn in my thighs.

  I eyed the rooftop of the series of tall, white buildings a few blocks away.

  I waited for the onslaught of memories, of never-forgotten feelings, and the slow anguish that often followed them.

  A strong breeze catapulted me towards the sidewalk, almost knocking me off-balance. It made the hair on my skin rise and the back of my neck tingle. What a strange feeling.

  The first thing that came to mind was me holding her delicate weight in my arms. I stopped moving before a jogger passed me, looked back, and mouthed, “Sorry.” I gave his fleeing form a smile and added a wave too.

  My feet were itching to run my route. The route which led me to the place where I lost my heart.

  But my heart…was telling me to take a right instead of left.

  I eyed the hospital’s structure and slowly, slowly my feet started picking up the pace again.

  This time, I let my hands fall to my sides and let my heart take the lead.

  Maybe this was acceptance.

  I’d never let her go.

  She would always be a part of me until my ashes touched the ground.

  A feeling of melancholy coated my insides then slowly I felt lighter, peaceful, calmer as my legs kicked up and I turned right.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pushed the buttons and saw Xavier’s text, I’m here. Where are you?

  I texted him back, Out for a run.

  Xavier: Do you want me to meet you there?

  There, meaning there – my only destination for a while now.

  Me: I’ll be at Koala’s Coffee and Tea.

  The wavy, bubbly dots flashed on my screen. He was sending a long text. I kept staring at the screen as I slowly pulled myself to stop in front of the coffee house.

  The dots started getting blurry and I felt wetness touching my cheeks.

  His text finally came in

  I love you.

  Three little characters. Eight letters, so insignifant on their own.

  But together, they formed the sweetest words that tried to capture the most basic of human emotions.

  I responded back.

  I love you, too.

  I waited for a few minutes, seeing if he was going to respond.

  He didn’t.

  So I stepped inside Koala’s.

  The strong fresh brewed smell of coffee hit my senses.

  I had one life.

  If today was the day that coffee was the brew that made my heart kick back into its normal rhythm then I’m all for trying it.

  There wasn’t a long line so the fresh-faced barista whose hair poked in all different directions and his eyes bleary, looking like he had a rough night out, asked, “What are you having today, Miss?”

  I glanced at the menu on the wall and said, “Can I have a doubleshot of espresso on ice, please?”

  I took the seat by the window, content to watch the flow of foot traffic.

  I sipped on my coffee. “Disgusting,” I muttered to myself.

  How in the world do people drink this on a constant basis?

  I had friends who couldn’t function without it, but as soon as the first drip of coffee blessed their tongues, they could rule the world.

  Tugging on my light green sweater, I watched as the glass doors of Koala’s opened and closed at an alarmingly fast rate.

  Build and they will come.

  Build a coffee shop and flocks will gather.

  I took another sip of the black concoction.

  I’d read that it takes nineteen times to acquire a taste for something, that you can actually ‘invert’ to be converted.

  The more I tasted the espresso, the more I hated coffee.

  Maybe I was one of the ill-fated forty percent of Americans who just did not like coffee.

  Boo on me.

  I might just save the world, a coffee bean at a time.

  I smiled despite the occasional cringe each time I sipped, but the drink took a turn for the worse.

  I looked down at my phone, noting that Xavier hadn’t texted back.

  He might have gotten caught up in work the minute his plane landed.

  When it was just the two of us, him working on his computer, me lounging on the couch surfing the channels, I’d see a hint of a vein popping out of his forehead.

  He worked because he had to. For his dad’s sake and the company’s benefit.

  His true passion was for the arts. I was quite sure that he was a good boss. Otherwise his dad’s secretary wouldn’t look at him the way she did. Adoring, gentle, ready to defend him at a moment’s notice.

  When I’d visited him at work, the employees seemed to really respect him.

  He was younger than half of the employees, but experience had no age limits.

  He was trained by the best at a very young age.

  “Missed me?” Only one man held that voice that my heart would answer to, every single time.

  I’d been looking down so I hadn’t noticed him sneak up behind me.

  He was squatting by my chair, nuzzling the faint stubble on his chin by my neck.

  I turned to my right and my eyes landed on his green ones.

  “You’re here,” I said, surprise etched on my face. I was expecting to see him at home after my run.

  He took my right hand, the one I was holding the coffee cup with, and placed it on his lips.

  “You love me,” he stated, the warmth in his eyes spreading across his expression.

  “I do.” I smiled, spreading my hand across his face, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

  “And you’re drinking coffee?” he noted, disbelief lining his features.

  He sat up and my eyes roved on his travel outfit, dark jeans and a casual light red shirt. He didn’t even have a coat or jacket with him.

  He tolerated below seventy degree weather way better than I did.

  I gave my shoulder a tiny lift. “Just trying it out. I figured I won’t lose a tooth if I tried it.”

  “You could.”

  “What?”

  “Lose a tooth.” He chuckled as he grabbed my cup and sipped.

  “What’s this shit?” The disgust I was keeping under my breath earlier now had a voice. And that was Xavier’s.

  A man who could live on an IV coffee drip.

  “You love this crap. You live for it,” I snorted.

  “Wrong. I hate this pretense of a coffee. This is worse than the fake guacamole they served at Kitchen of Tacos.”

  Kitchen of Tacos was a fine Mexican establishment that Xavier hated because he said their guacamole was dyed with green food coloring.

  I didn’t share his opinion, but his Lacrosse buddies did so apparently that was absolute vérité.

  One of my bff’s was a genius, so of course I knew that word.

  “I’m telling you, Nales. This isn’t how coffee’s supposed to taste. This is like the poor imitation of a Picasso.” His face was still scrunched as he brushed his hair with his hands.

  His shirt looked rumpled, his hair a mess, yet his effect to me was molten.

  I pursed my lips into a small grin, not quite meeting his eyes.

  If I did, then our little impromptu coffee date would be brought to bed right away.

  I missed him, but I was savoring this unplanned rendezvous by ourselves.

  He looked at my cup and debated on whether he should drink some more.

  “No.” I pulled it away from him, setting the metal napkin holder in front of us, barricading his hands from grabbing my cup and throwing its contents.

  I paid for it. Gave my last dollar bills to the kid who could barely open his eyes, so I was drinking it until all that remained was the ice.

  “How was your flight?” I asked as his hand reached for mine.

  “Shitty.” He rolled his eyes and my focus went to the long lashes ge
tting caught in the movement.

  It was so unfair.

  Guys like him shouldn’t have extra long lashes like he did.

  “Mmmhhmmm…” I nodded, taking another slow, very small sip of the dark matter in the cup.

  “There was a lot of turbulence,” he relayed. “And of course, the extra long flight delay. I didn’t want to call you so early this morning so I tried texting you. I’m glad I only had a carry-on because I heard on the overheard that luggage was going to be delayed for an hour or so.”

  “That suck—” My words weren’t completely out of my mouth when a tall, willowy blonde wearing extremely tight skinny jeans robbed me of my thoughts.

  She’d approached our table and her hands went on my boyfriend’s shoulders, the long fingers painted blood red stark against Xavier’s shirt.

  My insides turned and revolted against my stomach.

  My eyes burned at the sight of her light locks in perfect curls.

  She was saying something…something…

  “…been a while since I’ve seen you.” I caught some of her words.

  But it was the look on Xavier’s face that made my blood boil to a fever pitch.

  He was slightly pale, almost nauseous, his jaw solidly moving in a rapid pace.

  “I–” he couldn’t even get a word out.

  She was still talking, “I thought we were gonna hang out more. I waited for your call. I gave you my number. But you still haven’t used it.”

  My heart was pounding.

  Pounding.

  Beating against my rib cage.

  It was her.

  Her back turned, her face landing on me.

  Blue assessing eyes.

  Her pink lips forming an “Oh.”

  My knees felt like I’d run a 10K marathon.

  I had the urge to tear her arm off where an Hermes’ Kelly Rose Tyrien was haphazardly hanging.

  Tanya had the same bag and she’d raved on and on about it.

  I wasn’t into luxury purses, but Tanya loved them so I kind of knew about them.

  Her eyes drew a curtain, masking the astonishment of discovering that here I was, sitting at the same table with Xavier.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t paste on a smile.

  Not even a fake one.

  My ex-boyfriend, Jerome, slept with so many women behind my back.