I’ve fully embraced the so-called lazy days of summer. I sleep late most days, spend a few hours drinking coffee and reading on my balcony, then head out for a run or a walk on the beach. I’ve got nowhere to be and other than the occasional dinner or drinks with Jack, I’m mostly on my own. Fine by me. I’m not exactly good company.
The days feel like they are dragging, one after the other, each more silent than the one before. I’ve still not heard from Bella. Not that I’m particularly surprised by that. I’m not sure what I expected though, but it sure as hell wasn’t for her to fuck me and walk away. I’ve tried to be understanding about it and her. When I returned from Washington a few weeks ago, I was fully invigorated and intent to wait her out as patiently as possible.
My patience unfortunately waned with each passing and very silent day, and as I stroll down the sidewalk on this humid July morning, I’m starting to think that maybe I just need to move on. I’ve got nowhere to be, but hanging onto the hope that she’ll return is starting to feel like a desperate plea for a whole lot of nothing. She’s not coming back. She’s dealing with her shit, which I admire. Sadly, there’s no place in her life for me while she’s doing that. Given that it could take years for her to come to terms with what has happened, I’m certain she’ll expect me to be long gone when she’s finally able to open her eyes and look around.
I toyed with the idea of looking for a job while I was in Seattle, but that thought drifted away as quickly as it came. I’m not a runner. And really, what would returning there prove? I’ve been in Miami for a year now, and I feel rooted in the lifestyle. Besides, I like being close to my brother and seeing him frequently.
The bell over the door of the café dings when I stroll through and the intoxicating scent of coffee tickles my nostrils. There are a few people in front of me, so I peruse the menu while I wait and glance around the space.
It’s a carbon copy of so many others like it: a few small round tables, the mellow music playing softly in the background to set the mood. The baristas bustle around filling orders and wiping down counters, refilling the food case and chatting with one another. The comfort of normalcy in a place like this is what I crave. There’s the knowledge that no matter what craziness is going on, I can walk through the doors, get my desired coffee concoction and know without a doubt that at least one thing in my life is completely predictable.
Coffee finally in hand, I take a seat at one of the few vacant tables toward the back and pull out my phone. Nerd that I am, I have books loaded for just this purpose, rather than having to carry a paperback copy with me at all times. I’ve read Great Expectations at least five times before, but I have no problem losing myself in Dicken’s work once again.
I’m so submersed in the story, I lose track of time. It’s only when my coffee is empty do I finally look up and take a pause to stretch my arms overhead and glance around the café. A tingle of awareness slides down my spine as I see a familiar dark-headed beauty standing at the counter. She’s chatting with the clerk and hands over some cash before stepping back to wait for her drink. Arms pulled across her chest, she glances around to place. The moment her eyes lock on me, every bit of color drains from her face.
The nerve endings in my body stand at attention seeing her after all this time. She doesn’t exactly look thrilled to be running into me, but I have to admit that it feels like fate brought us here. Here I was, not so long ago, convincing myself that I needed to let her go, and wouldn’t you know it … here she is. So yeah, it could be fate. Could be coincidence. But I’m not about to let this precious moment go by without at least saying something to her. I’d regret it forever if I did.
Rising, I make my way the short distance to her and offer a wide smile. “Hey, Bella. It’s nice to see you.”
Some of the tension on her face fades as she smiles up at me looking me over. “Good to see you too.”
Gesturing toward the table, I ask, “Would you join me?” My silent, internal pleading is so damn desperate it’s embarrassing. Thank God she can’t hear it.
Glancing at her watch, she nods. “Um, yeah. I’ve got a few minutes.”
While I want more than just a few minutes of her time, right now I’m so damn desperate to talk to her I’ll take anything. When she finally settles across from me, sipping her hot beverage, I’m locked up tight and unable to do anything except look her over and try my damndest not to reach out and touch her.
She looks … breathtaking. Certainly nothing like the broken, strung-out woman she was months before. She’s absolutely stunning in every way, even if she’s dressed in a raggedy pair of shorts and a simple yellow shirt. Bella never did need to dress up to show her true beauty.
Her blue-green eyes sparkle with life, with strength. Sure, she looks wary, but why wouldn’t she? We haven’t seen one another in months, the last time being the heated fuck-fest in the fitness room. My memories of that night are still very vivid. I hate to admit I use them to get off. Often.
Damn desperate is right.
“You look really good.”
She smiles at me and her cheeks flush. “Thanks. So do you.”
“How’ve you been?”
She makes a big point of inspecting her coffee cup, turning it round and round in her hands and taking another long sip before looking directly at me. “I’ve been … I’ve been good, Jace. Really good.”
Those few words hold a wealth of unspoken meaning, and I find myself biting my tongue with restraint. Playing it cool will go a long way in earning back her trust. “That’s great news. How’s work going?”
“Pretty good. I’m on vacation right now. Have been for a few weeks.”
Knowing her deep work ethic and tendency toward preferring to never take a day off, I have to wonder at this new change. “Really? Did you take a trip?”
She shakes her head, ponytail swinging against her neck. “No.”
Her refusal to elaborate makes me wonder what’s going on, makes me uneasy too. This is not at all like the Isabella I spent months falling in love with. This woman sitting across from me is someone I’m still wildly attracted to, but I also barely recognize. She’s relaxed, in only the best possible way, clarity seeping from her eyes to mine. There a sense of serenity about her now that was missing before. An almost peaceful edge to her once anxious personality.
“What’s going on with you, Bella? Are you okay?”
Sighing, she leans on the table toward me and shrugs. “I’m getting there.” The long pause she takes is unsettling, and I tear my fingers through my hair to keep from reaching out for her. Patience. You’ve got to have patience. “I started seeing a counselor a few months ago.”
Stunned, I blink repeatedly as I try to absorb her words. “What? Really?”
Her smile widens. “Yep. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m getting through it.” She takes another sip and this time her voice comes out as a whisper. “I told my family.”
My mouth falls open as my heart tumbles in my chest. I might have thought I loved her before, but now what I feel is a living, breathing thing. Tangible, immense, and everlasting. Even though every voice in my head tells me not to, I’m out of my chair and pulling her into my arms before I can even comprehend it.
“I am so proud of you,” I breathe into her hair.
Her arms tighten around my waist. “Thank you. It’s been really tough.”
Having been witness to Roman taking the news so very hard, I can’t imagine how it felt to confide in the rest of the family. “Your parents. How are they doing with it?”
She shrugs, pulls back slightly, and tips her head back to look up at me. “They are amazing. Strong and supportive as always.”
My hands cradle her face as my forehead lowers to hers. “I’m so thankful you told them. So happy you don’t have to carry that burden alone anymore.”
She nods. “Me too.” I could probably stand there and hold her for the next few hours, but she obviously has other ideas. The moment I start to feel comfortable and begin to believe there might be hope for us, she takes a step back and glances at her watch. “I should go.”
“So soon?” Yeah, I sound like a pathetic dick, but I’m desperate. I miss her so damn much.
Bella grabs up her coffee and states, “I’ve got an appointment.” She doesn’t elaborate, but I assume it’s a counseling appointment. I hope like hell that’s what it is and not an excuse she’s using to be with another guy.
“When can I see you again?” It’s presumptive on my part, but I’m sick and tired of pussyfooting around. I need her in my life, even if it’s only as my friend.
She shrugs. “I’m not sure, Jace.” Reaching out, she threads her fingers with mine and sends me a pleading look. “I still have my own stuff to work through before I can think about … you know … us again.”
The pain hits directly in the center of my chest and even though I feel like screaming, I nod and reply, “Yeah, okay.”
“I’m really sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Yeah, but you always do, I think to myself. “It’s all good. Take care of yourself, Bella. Good seeing you.”
“Good seeing you too.”
Watching her walk away, yet again, doesn’t feel any better than it did the last time. I know I should be understanding. I should continue to be patient and willing to give her whatever space she needs to heal, but dammit, I miss her. I miss it all; the laughter, the talks. Hell, I even miss the silence. I miss the way she looks at me when I kiss her, the feel of her fingers tangled through my hair, the sound of her voice calling my name from the other room. I miss it all, but mostly I miss knowing what’s going on in her life. She may still care about me, but I’m nothing more to her than some stranger at this point. A familiar one at best, but still a stranger.
There’s a part of me—the exhausted, impatient part—that simply wants to move on with my life. Yes, I love her, but is that ever going to be enough? I’m beginning to doubt it. I’m also beginning to doubt my ability to be what she needs. There was a time I did think I was the perfect guy for her, but I’m starting to believe she needs something more. Someone better suited for this life of chaos. That guy isn’t me. As understanding as I’ve been all these months, I’m over it all. I need more. I need her time. I need her commitment, even if she’s only committing to being my friend. I need something except this daunting silence and these unending lonely days.
I just need her.
But as much as I love her, and dammit I really, really do, I need to accept the fact that she may never be mine.
I think it’s finally time to let her go.