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Michael
I work hard. So hard my eyes blur at the end of the night because I’m so tired. Workouts in the morning, business at the office all day, and then another workout at night. It goes like that for days and days. It should be making me feel better. It should be distracting me.
Instead, I just feel frustrated because I'm going in circles. But what else am I supposed to do? I'd opened myself up to Brianna, made myself think we could have a real relationship—my first truly committed relationship—and it hadn't worked.
She isn't ready, plain and simple.
Again, it should be a good thing. We have an agreement and she's sticking to her side. I should be able to stick to mine. It's just for a year. But damn it, I let myself slide. I let myself think that year could be something more than an arrangement.
It's after seven when I leave the office. I plan on going to the gym, but a flicker of guilt hits me right in the gut. I've been doing this every night. Barely making time for Brianna. It's probably easier for both of us, but that doesn't mean I don’t feel bad.
Shit. I debate what to do as I ride the elevator down to the lobby and step outside into the humid evening. Storm clouds hover over the city. The rain is going to come at any time.
I hop into the car and order the driver to take me home. I'll check on Brianna, say hi, uphold my end of the contract—which at this point is simple civility—and then head to the gym. With the schedule she's keeping, she'll probably be in bed by the time I get home from my workout so I can avoid her more easily.
Even if I want to be in that bed with her.
It's hard living with someone you desperately want to be around—be with—and not being able to do anything about it. Sure, it's a choice I made, but only because it's what she needs. What we need.
At home, the elevator releases me into my penthouse. It's quiet in here. Too quiet. I'm used to hearing the clacking of keys from Brianna's computer. She's been working non-stop lately. Guess she figured she'd do the same thing as me and throw herself into work.
When I walk to the window, to her favorite spot with a cozy chair and a table nearby for her coffee or water—or wine when it gets later—I see her computer. But she's not there. A glass of water sits on the table and there's a notepad with scribbles on it.
First I think it might be a note for me, but it's just work stuff. Website stuff that doesn't make much sense.
I do a lap around the penthouse, unease creeping up on me the longer I go without seeing her. Brianna's always here when I get back, and if not it's because she's out with Deb. Even then, she usually sends me a text to let me know. Our arrangement might not be ideal, but it's working. We’re on the same page.
Shit. What if she left? What if she actually did it this time? Walked out and ended this relationship?
I don't find a note from her, but I check her closet to see if I can piece together other clues. There are still clothes inside. Not many, but it doesn't look like she's packed anything up. And in the bathroom, all her makeup and hair supplies are there.
I pull my phone out and check my texts just in case I miss something. Damn it. Where is she?
I've forgotten all about the gym and now I just want to know where Brianna is.
When I walk to the living room again, I hear the sound of the elevator and turn when it opens. Brianna stands there, a box in her hands, hair disheveled.
I release a long breath. "There you are."
She steps into the room, still clutching the box against her body. I try to keep my cool. It's a big box—which means, she could be packing up. The last thing I need to do is lose it and drive her away from here.
“I didn't think you'd be back until later. You usually aren't,” she adds, defense in her voice.
“I'm not upset—I was just worried. Everything okay?”
She bites her lip and it takes everything I have to keep my distance. “It's...getting there.”
What's that supposed to mean?
“I've been figuring things out,” she says, setting the box on the counter. “I had to get the rest of my things from the apartment. They're leasing it to someone else next week.”
My shoulders relax slightly. If she got the rest of her things from the apartment, it means she's staying here, not leaving.
“Actually...” Her gaze travels to the window. Outside, lightning shoots across the sky and thunder grumbles. “It's not even all my stuff. Most of it is Chet's.”
My jaw clenches. Chet. Again. The whole reason I had to take a step back.
She seems to sense the tension because she shakes her head and holds up her hands as if to explain. “I've been doing a lot of work this week.”
I nod. Both of us have.
“Not just for my business, though that's helped.”
“Helped with what?”
She gives a small smile, one that hits me right in the heart. I don't know why. Sometimes I feel like we still barely know each other, but others it's like this opportunity came along for both of us. Because we both need each other.
“My identity. My new identity. I'm not Brianna from the coffee shop or Chet's fiancée anymore. I get to be someone new. With a new career and a new life and—and...” Her gaze flicks to mine, but she doesn't finish. “It sounds stupid, I know.”
I take one step closer to her, trying to understand. In fact, I'm pretty sure I do. She's moving on. “It doesn't sound stupid at all. It sounds like you're doing what you need to do.”
She swallows and nods. “I am. Sorry for worrying you. I'll get out of your way.”
I grit my teeth, hating that we're both feeling like this. I watch as she digs into the box and pulls out another box—a small one, black velvet. A ring box. When she turns to terrace door, I follow her.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
She stops just inside the door. Rain taps on the glass. “Not far. I'll stay out of your way when I get back. I just need to do this.”
“You want company?” I don't know what makes me ask, but she looks like she could use someone—even if it's just a friend.
She angles her head and looks at me. Really looks at me. I'm ready to step back when she nods. “Thank you.”
When she pulls open the door, cold raindrops hit us. But it doesn't deter her. She walks to the rail overlooking the city, close enough I almost reach out for her.
“Be careful,” I warn.
To my surprise, she grins and holds out the box. “This is the engagement ring Chet gave me.”
I take the box and open it to find a simple ring, diamonds in the band. It looks nothing like the one I gave her. Much simpler. Maybe even fake. I frown.
“Go ahead,” she says, blinking up at me through the drops of rain that hit her cheeks. “Say it.”
“What?”
She sighs. “It's not real. It's cheap.”
“Brianna—”
“You won't hurt my feelings, I promise. I know it's cheap because I'm the one who bought it. It was all I could afford.”
I bite back a curse. “You bought your own engagement ring?”
“I know. It's stupid. I should have just said I didn't need anything. But it was a symbol, you know?”
“It's not stupid. You should have had something and Chet's a major asshole for not at least buying this one himself. What a dick.”
Her breath catches in a half-laugh, half-sob. “I know. A huge dick, right? And I think I knew it was over before it ever was but I was just hanging on. I don't—don't have family or anyone else who's really close. Just Deb. And I guess I figured this was my shot. To have that family.” She takes the box from me. “A terrible reason to hang on to an engagement, I know. But that's why I did. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really even loved him...Anyway, I needed to move on. You were right about Chet. I was hanging onto that hurt. Not because I lost him but because I lost that dream. So...I'm moving on.”
She plucks the ring from the box and holds it up. The rain comes harder now, splashing on our heads, soaking through my suit jacket. Brianna looks like she doesn't care—she's so focused.
“This whole week, that's what I've been doing,” she says. “Clearing Chet from my life. All his things, his number from my phone, everything that reminds me of him.”
I swallow, guilt hitting me again. I knew she'd been working hard this week, but I didn't know this was part of it. If I had, I would've been here for her.
“This is the last piece,” Brianna says, staring at the ring.
In one smooth move, she hurls the ring into the air. I watch it until it vanishes in the rain, falling several dozen stories to somewhere below. Part of me is shocked she threw away her own engagement ring, and the other part, the more prominent part, is proud of her.
No matter what happens with us, I'm glad she's free of Chet.
Brianna turns to me. I can't tell if it's rain or tears on her cheeks. She leans up, kisses me on the corner of my lips and says, “Thank you. For being here.”
Then she walks back inside, leaving me in a swirl of emotions in the middle of a rainstorm.