Wasted Words

by Staci Hart

  I turned my head so I could finally meet his eyes, eyes that were sad and forgiving. “Okay,” I said quietly.

  Tyler smiled and slipped his hand into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “Come on, then.”

  So I picked myself up off the ground and tucked into his side, walking to the subway station in silence, counting my mistakes, one by one.

  KEEP WALKING

  Tyler

  CAM TEXTED ROSE TO LET them know we wouldn’t be back, but she didn’t speak the whole way home, and neither did I — I was content to leave her with her thoughts, content to hug her in the silence, hold her hand, just breathe with her.

  When she’d walked out of the bar, I’ll admit — I was livid. It took me a second to put on my shoes and chase her down, rolling through the tirade I planned to lay on her with every second that passed. But when I caught up to her and she ran into me, when she hit the ground and just lay there, eyes shining, brows furrowed, staring up at the sky, I knew she didn’t need to hear it from me. She already knew.

  Sitting on the train, she was subdued, still and quiet, maybe more than I’d ever seen her, aside from when she was reading or sleeping. My arm was around her, and she leaned into my side, staring through our reflection in the window across from us.

  I thought maybe we’d talk more when we got home, but I wasn’t willing to break the silence, happy to wait for her. So we moved through the apartment silently, readying for sleep. When our teeth were brushed, she took my hand, leading me into her bedroom where we climbed into bed. And when the light was off, she buried herself in my chest and breathed, a deep breath in, a long sigh out. And I held her, knowing it was all she needed from me.

  “I’m going to make this right,” she finally said.

  “I know you will,” I answered, and she sighed again, this time with the sound of letting go.

  But I was awake long after her breath had slowed and she drifted away to sleep.

  Bayleigh, Greg, Martin … that was the least of my concerns — I hadn’t missed the admission as we lay on the sidewalk. She was still afraid of us, of me. She worried she was wrong about us, and my frustration mounted, not understanding how she couldn’t know the thing that was most obvious to me. But even past that, I worried over what would happen to us if she imploded, blew us up from the inside.

  The cold realization slipped over me that there was nothing I could do except what I was already doing. Be there, show up. She had to do the rest.

  I sighed, pulling her a little closer, hoping with all my heart that she’d find a way to believe.

  Cam

  I woke the next morning resolute, plan in place, smile on my face. Tyler slept soundly, and my heart ached at the sight of him, the patient man who had his work cut out for him with me. I tried not to feel guilty, but it was no use. I was an asshole, and all I could do was try to atone.

  Starting with muffins.

  Tyler woke as I was pulling the second batch of lemon blueberry muffins out of the oven, and I smiled at him, feeling sheepish. But his smile was forgiving and he nodded sleepily at my work.

  “You’ve been busy.”

  I took off my oven mitt and poured him a cup of coffee. He stepped behind me as I was pouring, slipping his arms around me as he pressed a kiss into my hair.

  “Grand apology: phase one. Coffee and muffins.”

  “Smells good.”

  “Tastes better.” I turned in his arms and stretched onto my tip-toes to kiss him. “Thank you. For understanding. For sticking with me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Cam.”

  I smiled, though it was tinged with remorse even still. “Here. Have a muffin.” I reached for the pan and grabbed a steaming pastry for him.

  He took it, wetting his lips as he peeled the paper and took a bite. He moaned. “God, it’s so good.”

  It was practically pornographic, watching him eat something I made with that much pleasure. My lips pulled into what felt like a dirty smirk, and I turned to the pan, pulling out the muffins to place them on the cooling racks.

  “How’s your day?” I asked as he sat at the table with his coffee and breakfast.

  “Shouldn’t be too rough. You?”

  “Same. I think I’ve got to go shopping after work for the party tomorrow night unless there’s a chance for me to wear jeans.”

  He chuckled. “I mean, you could.”

  I smiled, lining my little lemony morsels up like soldiers.

  “If you’re going to go shopping, I guess I’ll hang with Kyle. He’s been hounding me to go out with him for what feels like forever.”

  “Think you’ll be late?” I asked, hoping the answer was no.

  “I’m going to try to just do happy hour and see if that’ll appease him. The last thing I want to do is club tonight, not with work tomorrow and the event tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, grown up life.” I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel and turned, leaning on the counter to face him.

  He laughed. “I know. Going without sleep is my number one contributor to bad days. But Kyle doesn’t get it. I think he’s worse now than he was in college.”

  “So he’s regressing? This doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  He nodded, his smile slipping. “Some days I feel like everyone I knew before moved in different directions away from me, and I’m stuck where I was.”

  The admission hit me in the heart, and I pushed off the counter, moving for him. With him sitting down, I was only a little bit taller than he was, and he shifted, his arm around the backs of my thighs as I leaned into him. I cupped his jaw.

  “You didn’t stay where you were. You grew. They’re the ones who stayed the same. Don’t ever compare yourself to Kyle. He’s not half the man you are.”

  Our faces were angled to each other, and he touched my cheek. “Thank you.”

  I leaned in to kiss him, my lips closing over his bottom lip as his closed over my top. I pulled away and smiled. “You’re welcome.”

  “So, are you taking all of those to work, or can I stash some?”

  “Take as many as you want. Just be sure to save a couple for Mrs. Frank.” I pecked his lips before stepping away.

  “Man, she gets all the good stuff.”

  I laughed and packed up the apology muffins, and we got ready for work. I felt a little healed from the self-inflicted wounds, optimistic about the day. I decided to leave a early so I could walk to work, parting ways with Tyler in the doorway with a kiss that made me wish I could stay home instead.

  But there was work to be done.

  I turned on my music and breathed deep, enjoying the sights of the city, the sky deep blue, the leaves rusty and tumbling to the ground. It was nature and man, colliding in a clash of color and concrete and steel. And I thought over the mess and my hopes to set things to rights, feeling a little better, a little lighter with every step.

  When I reached Wasted Words, I unlocked the door, heading through the empty store and to the office where I found Rose already working. She looked up, and her smile held a hint of sadness.

  “Hey, Cam.”

  “Hey,” I echoed apologetically as I set the muffins down her desk. “I made ‘I’m sorry’ muffins.”

  Rose leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Well, it’s a start. I don’t know what got into you.”

  I took off my bag, setting it next to my chair before sitting on top of my desk. “I don’t really either. I was stubborn and unkind, and for no real reason other than that I didn’t want to be wrong. I didn’t want my matchmaking laws to be wrong.” I sighed. “But I was.”

  “Yeah, you were. Bayleigh and Tyler were so embarrassed. I mean … I dunno. I get you were trying to hook up Bayleigh and Greg, but I don’t get why you’d go so far as to call Martin out like you did.”

  I shook my head, eyes down as I fiddled with the Tupperware. “I maybe have some control issues I’m working on.”

  She snickered. “You think?”

>   I tried to smile. “It’s just … I mean, I’m with Tyler and I just feel like I have no control over anything — how I feel, how he feels, what happens with us next.”

  “But that’s every relationship, Cam,” she pressed.

  “Maybe, but it’s never affected before now. Not like this.”

  She nodded, her eyes full of understanding.

  “And I think maybe Bayleigh and Greg were something I could control, even though I couldn’t really control that either.”

  “Right, because they’re human beings with their own ideas and feelings. Maybe you should take up knitting?”

  I snorted. “I tried, but I can’t multitask knitting with anything else, and I kept losing track of my stitches. My first scarf looked more like a triangle. I guess I could have called it a shawl instead.”

  She chuckled. “Yeah, I’m so not crafty. My first and only craft as an adult ended with me supergluing my fingers together.”

  I sighed. “What happened last night after I left?”

  She reached for the muffins, popping the top off and grabbing one. “Bayleigh apologized about a hundred times to poor Martin — pretty sure she spent the rest of the night trying not to cry. But he seemed more concerned with how she was than how you acted. I think they went home together.”

  I felt both happy for them and the sting of pain from being wrong. Being wrong isn’t the end of the world. Except it kind of was.

  I pushed the feelings away. “I hope they’ll forgive me.”

  She sighed and peeled the paper off the muffin. “Me too. Only one way to find out. You gonna talk to her today?”

  I nodded. “As soon as she gets in at ten.”

  “Good. I’m sure everything will be fine, Cam.” She took a big bite and closed her eyes, humming.

  I smiled and sighed, hoping she was right.

  Rose moved the muffin into one hand, licking her free thumb. “Is everything okay with Tyler?”

  “Yeah. He was so disappointed. I think that almost hurt more than if he’d yelled at me.”

  She nodded and angled for a bite. “I know that feeling.”

  “But we’re okay. I’m still being a little crazy, but I’m working on it. We’re supposed to go to this cocktail charity thing tomorrow night, and I’m starting to wig out about that.”

  “Why?”

  “Uh, because I’ve worn heels a grand total of twice in my life, and I fell both times.”

  She laughed. “Oh, God.”

  “I have nothing to wear … I mean, I don’t even own any dresses.”

  “Well, then let’s go shopping tonight.”

  I waved her off. “I don’t want to bother you with that.”

  She shrugged. “It’s no bother. We should see if Lily can come too. She’s the best at cocktaily-type things.”

  “Really? Because I can use all the help I can get.”

  “Really. We’ve got your back.”

  Relief washed over me. “Teach me, oh wise one.”

  But Rose snorted, rolling her eyes. “It’s like the blind leading the blind.”

  The phone rang, and she picked it up.

  “Wasted Words, this is Rose.” She paused, her eyes flitting to me. “Hai,” she said, and I reached for the phone, which she passed over gratefully.

  “Emerson to moushimasu,” I answered in Japanese, and thus began my work day.

  The next few hours were spent on the phone with a small distributor in Kyoto, arguing about a shipment that was supposed to have already made it to us. Not that they weren’t being accommodating, but frankly, most discussions in Japanese sounded like arguing, regardless of context.

  I left the office at a quarter after ten bearing muffins, finding Bayleigh behind the bar, setting up for the day. She glanced at me as she sliced limes.

  “Hey,” she said as I approached.

  I set the muffins next to her and leaned on the ice well. “Hey. I owe you an apology for last night.”

  “Yeah,” was all she said, her knife clicking on the plastic cutting board, muffins not even glanced at.

  My chest ached. “I’m sorry I interfered with you and Martin. I’m sorry for making a scene and for embarrassing you in front of everyone. I knew you liked Martin, but I was so stuck on you and Greg, I couldn’t let it go. I wanted that for you, but I didn’t stop to think about what you wanted.”

  She sighed and set down the knife, turning to face me, everything about her accusatory. “No, you didn’t. Cam, I seriously wanted to die after you walked out. I just couldn’t believe you would be so rude to Martin, especially knowing I liked him. I mean, you had to be able to tell, couldn’t you?”

  I nodded solemnly. “I knew how you felt, but I thought I knew better. I was wrong.”

  “Yeah, you were.” Her small face bent in hurt. “I mean, what’s better than a smart, sweet guy with a great job and a sense of humor? One who likes me? After all of this, I’m still not convinced Greg even was even interested in me like that. He walked me home three times and never once made a move, but you insisted he was into me, so I kept hanging on to the idea that maybe it would happen.”

  I stood very still, feeling worse with every word. “I know. You’re right.”

  She shook her head and sighed again, turning back to the fruit on the board. “I’m just thankful no permanent damage was done, other than Martin thinking you’re kind of a shitty human.”

  “Oh, that’s all?” I joked.

  She smirked at me, the tension fading slowly out of her. “Well, it’s true, even if your intentions were good. We all have our moments, Cam.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  She sighed. “Yes, I forgive you. And I know you won’t approve, but I went home with Martin last night. He was just so sweet, making sure I was okay — he even apologized for being rude to you. But he stood up for me. As far as I was concerned, you were the only one who needed to apologize.”

  I smiled at her. “Well, you’re wrong about one thing.”

  “Oh?” she asked with a brow raised in challenge.

  “I do approve. You and Martin are a match well made, much better than I could do myself, and you have my full and happy blessing. Not that you need it.”

  She smiled, all anger gone, her cheeks pink. “Thanks, Cam.” She embraced me, and I hugged her back, grateful for her forgiveness.

  I pulled away, smiling back. “Will you pass it on to Martin? I’m not sure if he’ll ever want to see me again.”

  Bayleigh picked up her knife again. “He’ll actually be in here in a bit. He’s swinging by on his lunch break.”

  “Great. I’ll save some apology muffins for him.”

  She snickered.

  “So how did it go last night at his place?”

  She sighed, her eyes all starry. “He’s so great, Cam. I don’t know how you couldn’t see it. We were up most of the night talking.”

  “Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

  She giggled. “No, I mean, we did that too, but he was an absolute gentleman. Lucky for him, I’m not much of a lady.”

  I laughed.

  “But I just …” She sighed again. “I just had the best time.”

  “So my assholery was ultimately helpful?”

  She snorted. “Don’t go getting ideas. We all could have done without the mess. I would have gone home with him whether you’d been an asshole or not.” She perked up. “Oh, and I wanted to tell you — he helped me come up with a nickname too.”

  I perked up, curious. “What is it?”

  “Bebe. My middle name starts with a B too, so it works. What do you think?”

  “It’s just right. That way if people spell it with two Bs, it’s still your initials.”

  “I know! Martin is super smart. And he agreed I shouldn’t use my middle name.

  I frowned. “Hang on, you already told Martin your secret middle name?”

  But she laughed. “Next time you rock out my vagina, I’ll tell you too.�
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  I helped her finish setting up the bar and made my way back to Rose, relieved that all was well. And when Martin came by — with donuts for Bayleigh, and I swear she could have proposed to him on the spot — I apologized to him too, muffins in hand. He accepted, seeming relieved to have me on board at last, and with that, I was entirely forgiven. And as for Greg, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of all of it, I decided to look for another match for him, one better suited to him, without my own feelings clouding my judgment.

  The day flew by after that, I’m sure in part because of the relief I felt. Tyler messaged me a few times throughout the day, once with a photo of him behind a mountain of papers with an overwhelmed, wide-eyed look on his face. He was also sure to let me know about when he thought he’d be home, so I wouldn’t worry.

  I wondered again why in the world such a man would put up with the likes of me.

  By the time the work day was done, I was thoroughly terrified of the impending shopping excursion, though thankful for Rose, who wisely insisted that we stop by the bar for whiskey shots on our way out. I wished I had a hip flask, though I’d probably only end up getting wasted and buying a dress with feathers on it or something. So with a deep sigh and a reassuring look from Rose, we were on our way into a nightmare of lace and chiffon.

  Tyler

  I pulled open the door to the bar to the sound of loungy electronic music, scanning the crowd, looking for Kyle. I felt a little underdressed — everyone already seemed ready for the night life, even though dusk had barely fallen. I found him leaning against the bar in a suit next to a pretty girl and her friend in sparkly dresses, one blonde, one brunette. They were all smiles, and by the way the girls were looking at him — starry-eyed and leaning toward him — I was certain he’d told them who he was.

  He jerked his chin at me and pushed off the bar, extending a hand. I clasped it, and he pulled me into a hug.

  “‘Sup, man?” he asked, smiling in a way that was infectious.

  “Not much,” I answered, softened by the glimpse of the old Kyle.

  He turned back to the girls. “I’d like you to meet my buddy Tyler.”