He studied her expression, then finally sighed. He picked up the rest of his clothing and stepped out into the cold night. “I never meant to hurt you, Kate.”
Kate closed the door on him and leaned against it, whispering to herself, “But you did. You did hurt me, and I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
She sank to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees.
***
Brock stood on Kate’s porch long after he heard her move away from the door. He wanted to crash through the physical barrier between them and demand that she listen to his side of the story. The problem was, he knew he deserved to be tossed to the curb.
He’d known from the moment he’d picked up her letter and hadn’t immediately returned it to her that this day might come. In the beginning it had been a game, and a fun one at that. But when he had taken the game too far and almost lost her the first time, he’d admitted to himself he wanted a whole lot more than to just fuck her.
He’d never been the romantic type. At least, that had always been a common complaint from the women he’d dated. He was a practical man. Sex was great, and dating made sex possible. Women often asked him out; when he was in the mood he said yes. Dinner or a movie was all it had usually taken to seal the deal with them. He’d never felt badly about moving on because he’d never made them any promises.
I give Tyler shit, but I am just as bad.
How did I go from that to freezing my balls off because I can’t leave the porch of a woman who told me we’re over?
He laid an open hand on Kate’s door. I fucked up, Kate. I know I did. I should have confessed everything when I had the chance.
He took out the prepaid phone and read through the recent messages she’d sent him. It was obvious to him now that she had known she was writing to him. As he scrolled through their conversation, one exchange jumped out at him. He read it several times.
Sometimes I get scared and never want to see him again. It would be different if I believed he really loved me. How do I find out the truth?
They say love is a leap of faith. He shook his head in disgust now at the flippant response he’d given her.
People who say that haven’t crashed and burned. Fuck leaping. I want proof.
The answers to his questions were right there, as was the evidence of how deeply she’d been hurt. She’d laid her feelings out for him, fears and all:
Will you help me figure out if he loves me?
And what did I fucking say to her? Did I tell her how I felt? Did I man up? No. I said:
Does this mean our game is on again? Are you looking for a Master?
What the fuck was I thinking? Oh, my God, I am such an asshole. Kate deserves better than this, better than me. I should walk away and let her move on to the next man.
Yet he didn’t move from his place near her door. I would if I wasn’t so fucking in love with her. He stood out in the cold so long he started to feel foolish. Finally, he pocketed the phone and went home, but only because he had thought of a plan for how to win her back.
The next morning Brock knocked on her door. When it remained closed, he said, “I love you, Kate. I’m an ass, and you have every right to be angry with me, but that doesn’t change how much I love you. Give me a chance and I’ll prove it to you, Kate. That’s all I need, one chance.” She didn’t open the door, but he guessed she was there. He left his present for her against her door and said, “Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk.”
***
Kate waited until Brock was gone before she opened the door. The heart-shaped box he’d left reminded her how they had started. She almost closed the door without picking it up, but decided she had to know what he considered an apology gift.
She carried the box into the living room and hugged it before opening it. What if it was a vibrator? If so, he’d be sadly disappointed by her reaction to it this time.
She tore off the cover. There on top of layers of tissue paper was Mr. Elf’s phone, smashed and mangled. There was a handwritten note with it.
Dear Kate,
No more games. This time it’s just you and me.
And the me in that equation is sorry.
I love you,
Brock
More than anything, Kate wanted to call Brock and tell him she’d forgiven him, but fear had taken root in her heart, and she wasn’t ready to open herself up to being hurt again.
Words were easy to say, but what did they mean in the end? Her ex-husband had said he loved her, but that hadn’t stopped him from sleeping with all her friends. Wendy had called herself a friend, but in the end she considered fucking Wayne some sick win over Kate.
Brock said he was sorry. She told herself he probably was sorry—sorry he’d been caught. But could she believe the rest of what he’d said? There was no denying she and Brock were compatible in bed. Was all of this because he didn’t want to lose that?
Kate tossed the gift box down on the floor beside the couch.
Too little, too late, Brock.
Chapter Nine
A week later, Kate bounded up the stairs to Angie’s second floor. “Hello. Are you ready yet?”
“Almost,” Angie called out from the boys’ room. “Get in here and wrangle Tim into his shoes again. I’m in big trouble. They already have their father’s sense of humor. Every time I try to get Tom ready, Tim takes something off. Every time I put Tim’s clothes back on, Tom has wormed out of something else.”
Kate lifted Tim above her head and made faces that had him laughing. “Tim says Tom’s the troublemaker. He’s innocent of all charges.”
“Sure, his father says the same thing. Hey, how did your interview go?”
“Good. You are now looking at a very important, newly employed, radio station receptionist.”
Angie turned from zipping up Tom’s coat. “That’s great news. And it still has to do with music. Sort of. The most important thing is it gets you out of the house.”
Kate zipped Tim into his coat with expert finesse. “It’s mostly talk radio, so it wasn’t what I was looking for, but it’s a job. I worked a few hours this morning. It felt good to be out of my house and learning something new.”
Angie settled Tom on one hip and smiled.
Kate rolled her eyes. “Go ahead. You can say it.”
“I was right.”
“You were. Now, are we going for our walk or what?”
Angie sat Tom down at her feet while she put on her own coat. “I’m coming. I’m coming.”
Soon they were out in the chilly afternoon air, walking a route Kate figured they had walked enough that she’d know it blindfolded, but she didn’t care. The sun felt good on her face, and she felt happier than she had in days.
As they passed Kate’s house, Angie paused and said, “Does Brock still drop off a gift every morning?”
There goes my good mood. “Yes.”
“And you haven’t broken down and talked to him yet? Not once?”
“I don’t even open the presents.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Angie asked, her mouth falling open.
Kate shrugged and started walking again. “I don’t want to be tempted. He hurt me, Angie. And even though he’s sorry, I can’t risk that kind of hurt again. Not yet. I need time to heal. I’ve gotten myself all tangled up inside.”
Angie fell into step beside her, uncharacteristically quiet.
Kate couldn’t help but ask, “No advice today? You’re not going to tell me I’m wrong? That I should give him another chance?”
Angie looked over at Kate sadly. “I think Brock is a great guy. The two of you were good together. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”
“Maybe if I hadn’t met him so soon after my divorce—”
“Or if you hadn’t asked Santa for a good fuck.”
“Angie . . .”
Angie laughed. “Sorry, but you have to admit your part in all of this. Imagine poor Brock. Mike told me Brock has been
lusting after you half his life. There you were, back in town. Brock was probably trying to figure out how to ask you out. Then, wham, he found that letter. Men don’t come across opportunities like that every day. You can’t really blame him for going all kinky on you. Especially when you liked it.”
The winter air wasn’t brisk enough to stop Kate’s cheeks from warming. “He should have told me about the game once we got serious.”
“Was there a time he could have when you wouldn’t have absolutely freaked out on him?”
Kate opened her mouth to say yes, then closed it with a snap. “No, I guess not.”
“I’m not defending him, I’m just saying I can understand why he kept his silence.”
“You think I should give him another chance, don’t you?”
“What I think doesn’t matter. What do you think?”
“I’m scared, Angie. That’s it. I wish it were more complicated than that, but there it is. I don’t know what I want to do.”
Angie gave Kate’s arm a pat. “You know what, Kate? You’re a lot stronger than you think—and a lot smarter, too. Trust your heart on this one. If it says he’s not the right one, let those damn presents keep piling up. You don’t owe him anything. But if you love him, give him a chance to win you back. He’s trying, Kate. You’re getting the proof you asked for.”
***
Brock kept a straight face while looking at the full house he held in his hand. Poker night at Tyler’s place was a welcome reprieve from what had otherwise been a crappy week. Chris, Mike, Tyler, some cigars, a few beers, and just enough money on the table to make things interesting.
“I’m out,” Mike said and laid his hand down, but he smiled as he did.
Chris raised an eyebrow and joked, “Mike, you understand that’s a bad thing, right?”
Tyler took a puff of his cigar, then said, “His wife is sleeping with him again. You could probably take all the money out of his wallet and he’d still look that pathetically happy.” He took a second look at Brock. “Whereas there is no telling what Brock has in his hand because he’ll look that miserable even if he has a royal flush.” He tossed a twenty onto the pile of money on the table. “I’ll see your ten and raise you ten.”
Chris threw his cards down. “Too rich for me. I’m out. So, Brock, what happened with you and Kate?”
Brock threw in a twenty and said, “I’ll see your twenty, and I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tyler thumped his chest. “She broke his heart.”
“Fuck you.”
Tyler smiled at Brock’s response. “He leaves presents on her doorstep every day, even though she won’t answer any of his phone calls. It’s kinda sad. And am I the only one worried that he now smells like a girl?”
Brock gritted his teeth. “The perfume was a gift from Kate.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. “Do you think she was fucking with you? Because, dude, that’s a woman’s perfume.”
Mike sat back in his chair and said, “It is, Brock. Angie told me all about it. Kate bought it as a joke. You should stop wearing it.”
Brock put his cards down. “What do you mean as a joke?”
Mike looked away. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Angie will kill me.”
Brock stood up. “What do you know?”
Mike let out a long sigh. “Everything. Too much, really. I give you credit for having the balls to do what you did, but you really fucked it up at the end.”
Tyler leaned forward, laying his own cards face down. “What did he do, Mike? You have to tell us.”
Chris made a skeptical face. “We’re talking about Brock here. How bad could it have been?”
Mike said simply, “Let’s just say we don’t know Brock as well as we think we do. He has a whole other side to him.”
“I can’t believe you’re not going to tell us,” Tyler said, stubbing out his cigar. “I would tell you.”
The other men at the table said in almost perfect unison, “We know.”
Brock sat back down. “Mike, I don’t care what your wife told you, it goes no further than that. I’m serious about Kate. I intend to marry her. But I do want to know what you meant about the gift being a joke.”
Mike gave him a sympathetic look. “When Kate found out you hadn’t been completely honest with her, she and Angie decided to screw with you a little. Angie told me it was supposed to get you to confess. I guess that didn’t work out.”
Tyler interjected. “Confess what? You guys aren’t going to say anything? You’re fucking killing me here.”
Rubbing his chin, Chris asked, “You really love her, don’t you?”
Brock’s hands clenched in fists. “Yes, I do. But nothing I’ve done so far has been able to convince her of that. I might have blown my only chance with her.”
Mike added, “Don’t repeat this, but Angie says Kate is really sad about the breakup. She thinks Kate loves you, so you still have a chance.”
With disgust, Tyler said, “I’m taking back all of your man cards. You gossip like a bunch of women. What happened to you?”
Brock looked at Tyler and shook his head. “Half of what you say is a bullshit act, Tyler. I know because I was you until recently. But I don’t care about any of that anymore. Everything changed when Kate came into my life again. I don’t want to go back to one-night stands. I want Kate. I want a family. Help me fix this or shut the fuck up. Your choice.”
After a long moment, Tyler said, “What have you tried so far?”
Brock shrugged. “Calling. Texting. Bringing her a gift every day, like you said. I don’t know if she even liked what I gave her.”
Mike said, “She hasn’t opened them.”
“Fuck.” Brock grimaced.
Tyler pushed up his shirtsleeves. “Don’t worry, as the only intact man at this table, I will come up with a plan.”
When Chris and Mike started to say something, Brock cut them off and said, “Let him speak. Even if it’s for comic relief, I have to hear what Tyler thinks I should do.”
“Thank you,” Tyler said with some sarcasm, then cracked his knuckles as he got down to business. “You have two problems. One, she won’t open your gifts. That’s easy enough to fix. Don’t wrap them.”
Brock looked around the table. Tyler’s suggestion made sense in a strange, the-world-is-upside-down kind of way.
Tyler held up two fingers and said, “Two, even though you won’t say what you did, it sounds like it was a royal fuckup. Those require big apologies. Huge. Usually in public. Lucky for you, Valentine’s Day is in two days. If you really want to win her back, you need to do something so over-the-top sappy she has no choice but to forgive you. I even have an idea for that part, but you’re not going to like it.”
Brock looked around the table again and said, “Nothing I’ve done so far has worked, so maybe I should try his ideas.”
Tyler asked, “So you fold?”
Brock nodded.
Tyler reached forward and gleefully scooped the pile of money toward him. Amidst protests, he merely smiled and said, “Great, here’s my idea.”
Chapter Ten
The next morning, Kate heard her doorbell ring. She opened her front door to a find an iPad, with a video playing on its screen. She bent closer and saw Brock’s friend Chris listing all the reasons why he thought Kate should give Brock a second chance. He talked about how long he had known Brock and what a good person he was. A moment later, Angie’s husband, Mike, was reciting almost the same message. The video cut to Tyler, who sounded sincere as he said the only person he could imagine Brock being with was someone as classy as Kate, and that anyone who could get Brock to wear women’s perfume for a week was someone Tyler had to respect. Linda, Brock’s sister, talked about what a great family man Brock was. Even his parents chimed in to say they missed her.
Kate was near tears by the time Brock came on the screen. He looked tired, but he smiled into the camera as he spoke directly to her. “I reserved a table at Henri’s for tomorr
ow night at six. I’ll be there, waiting for you. If there is any chance you can forgive me, meet me there. Don’t decide right now, Kate. Go inside. Open my other presents. They are proof that I mean it when I say I love you. There has never been anyone else for me, Kate, and there never will be.”
Kate stopped the video and took the iPad inside. She moved Brock’s gifts from her hallway into her living room and sat down beside them on the floor. She took a deep breath, reached for one of the boxes, and held it on her lap for a moment. If I open this, I’m opening my heart to the possibility of Brock again. I’m giving him a chance to hurt me again.
What am I so afraid of?
That he’ll treat me the way Wayne did?
Wayne never cared enough about me to do anything as crazy as pretend to be a naughty elf. Brock is not Wayne. I have to stop comparing the two.
Brock says his proof is in these presents.
Please let him love me the way he says he does. Please don’t let me be wrong twice.
Kate tore the paper off the first present and smiled at the simplicity of its contents. It was just a small pocket calendar with a puppy decorating the cover. Unthreatening. Sweet. She opened the calendar to the first page and read the message he had written there. “When you decide you’re ready to see me, please check the calendar for dates when I’ll be available.” She flipped through the pages and saw that he had highlighted every evening and every weekend. On each day he had written the same word: “Available.”
Corny. Cute.
Kate reached for the next package. Wedged between two pieces of cardboard was an old, tattered piece of construction paper. Kate took it out and held it up, and tears started running down her cheeks. It was a drawing she had made of the two of them back when, as children, they had spent the summer together while his father had worked on her mother’s house. She’d drawn them holding hands and smiling and had written:
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