by Devon Ashley
“What did you say?”
“The truth. That you guys were apart, but that you still wanna make it work, and you’re giving him the time and space he needs to figure out if he’s willing too.”
I nodded my head, but an increase in moisture clouded the space between us, so I doubted she saw it. As I lay back down on the bench, she added, “But for the record, I do like him.”
“It seems so…final,” I said dismally, staring down at the three medium-sized boxes before me on the end of my twin bed. Sophie squeezed in behind me and stroked my back. She had waited until now, Monday morning, to give me the boxes Robert had packed and asked her to pass along to me. I shook my head, this queasy feeling traveling north of my stomach and up my throat. “I just…I mean, I’m the one that royally fucked up. Shouldn’t I be banging on his door, begging him to take me back or something?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never had this problem, but I’d wait it out. Let him live life a bit without you and have the chance to really miss you. Besides, you need your clothes.” I did, actually, but him removing them from the apartment told me my desire of getting back together wasn’t exactly going my way.
Why did she continue to stroke my back? Did she take this as a bad sign too? My head started to shake slowly. “Soph…”
“Look, you’ve stunned him, okay? He brushed off a lot of girls in the past ‘cause he expected they would cheat. You blindsided him.”
“I didn’t cheat!” I yelled and jerked my body upright.
Her hand retreated. “Yeah, I know,” she claimed defensively. Soothingly, she added, “And maybe that’s why he can’t decide whether or not to come back. You did but you didn’t.
“I tried talking to him for you,” she added a moment later, and my body was quick to sweep around.
Panic bursted within like firecrackers. “What’d he say?”
She looked to the bed to watch her hand de-pill the blanket. “I tried to tell him what you’d been trying to tell him yourself. That you loved him. That you never meant to kiss Evan. That you’re sorry beyond words, and that you really need him to talk to you. But…” My insides swirled, and my breakfast was in danger of resurfacing. “…intentional or not, Jenna, you never fought the kiss. And that’s what’s killing him, ‘cause he truly believes you wanted Evan to do that.”
My jaw dropped and I tried to argue it, I really did. A few syllables here and there babbled out of my mouth, but nothing I was thinking was gonna defend against that.
“And I sorta agree with him on that,” she added.
I gasped, a sharp pain piercing my chest. “Sophie!”
She was quick to defend, “I know you love Robert, I really do. But of all people, I know what you felt for Evan in the past. I saw you, Jenna. I saw how you broke down when he woke up and you thought you lost him forever. It crippled you. So yeah, I think part of you really did wanna kiss Evan that night, and that’s why you didn’t fight him when he did it.”
My elbows dug hard into my thighs and my hands thoroughly buried my face. What the hell was I thinking? To just stand there and let him kiss me? I was happy with Robert, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I let Evan do it. Why I let him jeopardize the best thing that ever graced my life.
I stared at the boxes long after Sophie left me, wondering whether to take this as a sign we were truly over, or just a consideration on his part to keep me clothed. Either way, it tore me apart to go through them. It wasn’t that he’d packed up what pathetic amount of clothes I had left in our apartment, it was that I think he literally gave me all the photos and mementos we’d collected over the past two years too. Silly carnival pics we made in those booths, a shot glass we stole from the bar where I faked my way into for his twenty-first birthday, that awful t-shirt we picked up when we stopped at a roadside restaurant called Harry’s Crabs, which neither of us would even wear around the house. It’s like every little thing that had a memory attached to it, he just wanted to throw away and forget about. He kept nothing.
So not a good sign…
Not really sure what to do with them, I stuffed all the mementos and pics into two boxes, stacked them into the corner, threw my chenille throw over them and tossed a few books on top.
Voila. Coffee table.
Work was a relief ‘cause it was busy enough to keep my mind distracted. Thoughts of Robert and Evan were a rare event until Evan physically stepped through the front door around six. He didn’t hesitate to approach me and follow alongside as I collected books left behind at random locations throughout the store.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I repeated solemnly.
After a quiet moment, he added, “You look kind of tired today.”
Out came a single, humorous laugh. “Yeah, well…it’s been that kind of day.”
He nodded as he passed me a picture book leaning against the bottom shelf. “Can you have dinner with me tonight?”
I inhaled a breath slowly, followed by a gentle head shake. “Evan, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Look,” he spoke softly, and I twisted to face him, his hazel eyes saddened. “I just learned I spent eight months in a coma bouncing around in your head. I need to talk about this, but I refuse to have my family give me pitiful looks because they think I’m damaged, and I don’t dare tell a doctor, damn the confidentiality agreement. You’re the only one I can talk to about this. So, please.”
My insides were kicking me, torn apart over what to do. I understood the dilemma, ‘cause even my best friend thought I was a nutball when I tried to convince her the dreams were real. But did I really wanna risk spending time with him?
And though my head thought it was a really bad idea, I knew my conscience would win out in the end. “Yeah, okay. But not dinner.” Dinner was too intimate, too date-like. “I have to stay late to do some things around here. Come by after nine-fifteen?”
A sense of relief traveled through his body, loosening his taut muscles, bringing a slight curl to his mouth and lighting up the glimmer in his eyes. “Yeah. Nine-fifteen’s perfect. See you then.”
He looked like he’d love to kiss me on the cheek, or even squeeze my hand, but he kept it to an awkward smile and turned to leave. Talking to him wouldn’t be a totally bad thing, right? I mean, it was just talking. It’s not like I let him think it was a date or anything.
Evan Gilden was incredibly punctual. Nine-fifteen on the dot and he was knocking on the glass, just as I was carrying a box in from the back. I dropped it by the front-most table and unlocked the door. A gush of wind sent an instant chill through my body, a few snow flurries hijacking their way in behind him before I could close it again.
He howled playfully as the gentle ivory flutters outside mesmerized me, jerking unpredictably against the bullying wind. “Damn, that’s cold.” I saw his reflection rapidly rub his gloved hands together. I wasn’t looking forward to walking home in that later. The snow I didn’t mind, but the wind was a bitch.
I gave him a pressed smile as I leaned over to rummage through the box of books, determining the number of new releases in it. “Can I help?” he asked.
“Yeah, you can. There’s one more box just inside the Employee’s Only door. Could you get it for me?”
“Sure.” He was gone and back lickety split, and placed it beside mine. “Now what?”
“Now, you pull up a chair and watch me, ‘cause I’m not gonna put you to work.”
“Seriously? You want me to just sit here?”
“Yeah. Truth is, I have to rotate the books to make room for the new releases and put them at certain tables. If you help, our night’s gonna be spent discussing the shop’s layout instead of what you really came here for. So talk.”
Sound rumbled in his throat, announcing his disapproval, but he carried over one of the coffee house chairs and settled down anyways. I began sorting the new releases on the floor into categories so I knew how many titles needed to be thinned from the front tables and laid aside to be shelv
ed in the bookcases. After about thirty seconds went by, I glanced up and raised my eyebrows at him, silently asking, “Well?”
“I tried researching our…situation, and I’m guessing it won’t surprise you that I came up with zilch.”
“I’m not surprised, no.”
“Because you’ve done the search before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah. Long time ago. Even if our situation,” I say, mocking his use of the word to describe our dream sharing, “has ever occurred for anyone else, I can understand why it hasn’t been documented.” ‘Cause seriously, who would think the people involved weren’t delusional? “You sure as hell didn’t wanna tell anyone and neither did I. Hell, I was expecting you to think I was crazy, and you were in the dreams with me.”
“So how do you think we did it?”
I chuckled, pulling the last of the books from the box. “All I have to offer is the crazy, certifiable version.”
“Well, strap me up and call me looney. Give it to me.”
“I’m no expert in metaphysics, or whatever the hell this would be categorized under, but my best guess is that you found a way to break through my mind’s defenses when it was relaxed, ‘cause you never got in when I was awake, or when I took sleeping pills that kept me from dreaming. If I wasn’t capable of dreaming that night, you weren’t getting in.”
“So how did I get in?”
Shrugging, I bluntly replied, “Hell if I know.”
I grabbed the nearest cart and began fingering through the books, trying to remember which had been released first or received less interest from readers lately. Evan soon joined me, leaning his weight against the cart, nudging it slowly behind me as I circled the tables, depositing excess books onto it.
“So…Sophie told me Robert broke up with you.”
I almost rolled my eyes. I really didn’t wanna get into Robert tonight, but maybe it would help him realize I wasn’t currently in the dating market. “Sorta. I’ve tried to get him back, but he’s convinced there’s something going on between you and me.”
“Isn’t there?” I refused to look his way, his suggestive tone definitely trying to bait me in. “You said it yourself. We connected on a spiritual plane, and when we were thrown back here, our subconsciouses still found a way to reconnect, even though we were separated physically. So, you tell me there’s nothing going on between us.”
I really wished he hadn’t put it that way, ‘cause it made me feel like shit that I chose to walk away from him, and that I was still trying to keep my distance in respect for Robert. “All right, there was,” I finally replied, barely shrugging. “But that all happened a long time ago. I moved on. Fell in love. You moved on, too.”
“Oh, yeah?” The way he said that, rolling the cart out from between us, stepping closer, had my heart upping its tempo. Pressure and heat rose in my chest as the space I deemed minimum safe distance was being invaded again. “Then tell me. If we’ve both moved on, why did we reconnect last year? Why, to this day, if you’re so in love with that other guy, are you opening your mind and letting me in? And if I have this new ability to jump into minds when I’m unconscious, why are you the only one letting me in?”
Somewhere in there my breath caught, and I finally released it. His eyes bored down into mine, their inner rings of gold fiery and licking their way over the green, making a push for the outer rings of dark blue. His breath was warm on my face, and the smell of cinnamon that accompanied it, almost had a calming effect as it passed through my nose.
Why did I refuse a dinner in public again?
The muscles in my heart squeezed and cringed, and my face echoed the pain. My head fell as I stepped back, my eyes now focused on the athletic sneakers peeking out beneath his boot cut jeans, gray with black stripes. “I know where you’re going with this. Believe me when I say my heart is damaged goods right now.” He shifted, and my head managed to lift far enough for my brown orbs to find his hazels. “Was my heart yours once? Yeah, partly. But it’s belonged to someone else since then. And it still aches for him. You shouldn’t want me right now, Evan, ‘cause my heart’s just not in it.”
A guttural sound lightly vibrated in his throat, and I silently gasped as his hand reached up to lay against the side of my face. My eyes closing, I felt myself surrender to it.
“I can wait, for when you’re ready to move on. I don’t care if you need to rebound off five guys. I’ll wait for you.” His thumb began caressing my cheek bone, soft and warm and hypnotic. He knew he was breaking me down, so close to bending his way. “So can you agree to dinner with me yet?” I silently debated, my body giving zero indication of my thoughts. “Come on, Jenna. You’ve got to eat sometime. Why do it alone?”
I may kick myself for falling into temptation, but… Opening my eyes, I asked, “Tomorrow?”
“I have to work tomorrow, so how about Wednesday?”
Curiously, I asked, “You work? Where?”
“Ask me Wednesday night. I’ll swing by when the store closes.” He pulled away, aiming for the front door, his smile slowly extending far enough to dig dimples. The door squeaked, and he walked backwards a bit to lift his hand in a goodbye manner. A wave rolled across my left fingers as my right hand locked the door behind him. I stood there until he fell out of view, wondering what the hell just happened. I was supposed to keep Evan at bay. So why was it the first moment I was left alone with him, I found myself longing for his touch?
Tuesday I spent the entire day going back and forth on whether or not to keep our not-a-date dinner. Part of me felt like I was agreeing to something really stupid, something that would keep Robert and me apart indefinitely. And Sophie’s warning kept repeating in my head… “What chance you have with Robert is ruined if you date Evan.” But I wasn’t dating Evan, just spending time with the only person I really knew in Rutland. I was lonely, and Evan had this way of making me feel good inside, even with the emotional conflict that ate away at me.
Screw it. Robert wasn’t here for me right now, may never be again. Evan was, here and now. I wasn’t in the mindset to jump into dating, but it’d be nice to spend time with someone other than the people I worked with.
A calm smile spread across my face when he came in a few minutes before closing Wednesday night, and he lost himself in the shelves until the store was cleared. I said goodnight to Lindsey and locked the door behind her. Of course, she couldn’t help but give me an ooh face when she noticed Evan got to stay inside. I shooed her away with my hand.
“Can you give me a few minutes to close?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He held his hands up as he backed away, disappearing around the aisle, more than likely headed to the fantasy section he seemed to favor above all others. I closed the cash register and deposited the money bag and receipts in the safe, then gathered my outerwear and purse.
“Evan?” I called on my way to the front.
“Coming.” I heard his feet scuff against the carpet as he weaved through the aisles to meet me at the door.
“Where do you wanna go?” I asked as I locked the store behind us. The wind chilled me to the bone and I wrapped my arms tightly around my body for added warmth.
“How about the pizza place around the corner?”
I glared, but agreed, ‘cause pizza sounded damn good. It had a dim, somewhat romantic atmosphere, and I was sure he knew it.
Lots of people were still on the avenue’s sidewalks as the shop interiors randomly blackened one after another, their workers closing up for the night too. It was hard to carry on a conversation ‘cause the wind literally swept our voices away as it gushed by, so we didn’t bother the rest of the way to Antonio’s Sicilian Pizzeria. I removed my knitted cap and scarf, and slipped off my jacket as we settled down next to each other at a table for four.
We scanned the menus and ordered our meal, stealing glances while our tongues remained tied. Part of him actually seemed a little uncomfortable, and I wondered if he felt our last conversation went too far.
�
�So…” he began, finding the courage to officially kick start this non-date, “I promised you answers. What would you like to know?”
My mood quickly lifted, feeling almost playful. Game on. Avoiding the topic of us, I asked the question I’d been wanting to know since he first came to see me in Rutland. “Why aren’t you at Penn State?”
“Taking the semester off.”
Concern flooded my emotions, completely halting the jovial mood I’d just unearthed. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. But my mom freaked out. After what happened the first time, she’s all panicked I’m going to die on her or something. It was literally affecting her health, so my dad asked me to hang around a few months until she calmed down again. The school was fine with it, and actually encouraged it, so, here I am.”
“Why would Penn State care?”
“Because my accident happened on school grounds. I guess they could be held liable if I were one of those ass hats looking to sue for the stupidest shit. So of course they prefer I take a semester off and make sure the noggin’s okay.”
“You look...fine.” I said fine sharply, and the left side of his mouth curved. “Your mom’s really that worried?”
“More like overprotective. I swear, sometimes she thinks I can’t wipe my chin or tie my own shoelaces.”
Teasingly, I replied, “Well, technically you do have an issue tying your shoes.”
“Ha ha. Funny. Being a smart-ass. Well, at least you’re beginning to act like yourself around me again.” His eyes averted to something behind me, then focused intensely on me again. “Saved by the soups.”
The minestrone warmed me from the inside out, and neither of us spoke while we devoured our bowls. The chill finally disappeared from my toes and fingers, and I comfortably leaned back in the chair as we played a quick game of who can stare the longest without cracking a smile. I lost.
My finger traced the top ring of my water glass. “You said you were working. What are you doing?”
“I’m just helping out my dad here and there when he needs it. He’s a private investigator.”