Chapter Thirty-Five
Gia
I toss my messenger bag onto the bed. Well, it’s Morgan’s old bed, but she didn’t need it anymore. Morgan and Dex moved into their new apartment last month and they bought a lot of new things to fill it with. I think Dex is pretty wealthy, from what I’m told. It’s strange to think of him and the team as millionaires, which I’m about 85% sure they are. But unlike my fully furnished apartment in LA, everything here is either mine, or new to me from Morgan.
I’ve been back in Chicago for an hour and this new place already feels like home. But then again, Ruby and Morgan have had the keys to it for two weeks and have gotten it live-in ready for me. They are also in the living room waiting for me to check out my new space.
I wander back down the hall to find them.
“Well, I think it might be a little bit bigger than our old apartment,” I tell Morgan.
“Yeah, but the layout is pretty much the same. It's nice that the second bedroom has a walk-in closet and this kitchen is a lot bigger,” she says, shoving some of the food that Ruby just brought into her mouth. Morgan picked me up from the airport, but Ruby had some kind of last-minute errands to run, so she met us here with several grocery bags in hand.
Ruby shoves boxes of Lucky Charms and Kix in my pantry and turns around, pointing a finger at me.
“Gia, we are taking you out tonight. Go put on something cute. I’ve already hung up and put away all your clothes.”
“Speaking of, Rube, you did not need to do that. Thank you but I could have unpacked myself. When you texted me throughout the week about where I wanted things, I thought you just wanted to make sure boxes got to the right spots,” I say with my hands on my hips. I had shipped most of my stuff earlier in the week.
“Well, it took me all of about an hour. You need new clothes.” She levels a stare at me. I roll my eyes with mirth.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
Morgan replies, but doesn’t answer my question. “Oh, wear that super cute black dress that shows off your shoulders,” she says, hopping up on the counter, her legs dangling.
I love that dress. I bought it in LA when my mom visited and we went shopping. I told Morgan all about it.
“So, we are going somewhere fancy?”
“Does it matter? Let's just dress to the nines,” Morgan replies.
“Are you going back to your place to change?” I ask because she's wearing a pair of capris, a black tee, and Chucks.
“Nope, my outfit is in the car, we are getting ready together!” She smiles.
“Alrighty then. Let’s get our girl time on,” I laugh.
A couple hours later, we pile out of a cab in front of The Bar. What?
I got all dressed up for a pub?
“You guys, I thought we were going somewhere fancy. We are way overdressed,” I tell them, pausing in the middle of the sidewalk.
Both of them have knowing grins on their faces. “Come on, just go with it.”
“What? What’s going on?” They both grab an arm and pull me to the door. Ruby pushes inside first and, as I try to keep from stumbling in, I’m greeted with an old feeling of contentment as I walk into the place where I’ve spent so many evenings with my best friends.
Right at the entrance is a long bar to the left, and a short wall to the right blocks the seating area and a small stage. There are pool tables in the back near a small area for larger groups of people. It’s where Morgan and Ruby set up my going-away party months ago. Nothing looks out of the ordinary until Morgan pulls my hand as we turn the corner, leading me to the table area. Then I see it. A big banner draped across the back wall and a large group of people standing around cheering my name.
Oh. My. God.
They did it again. Ruby and Morgan planned another party but this time they surprised me with it. I start laughing and I can’t fight the tears that gather in my eyes when I see my parents standing next to Bernie. Link and Dex are nearby and so is Wade, Dex’s brother. There are several other people I consider friends whom I’ve stayed in touch with over the past six months. Whether I met them through jobs or just various places over the years here in Chicago, they’re all here now.
I don’t see the one person who would make this whole thing about ten times better though. He isn’t in the throng of people who have come to welcome me home. I try not to let the disappointment overpower my happiness, at least not now. I can let myself feel the pain tonight when I’m alone in my bed. For now, I’ll enjoy these amazing friends and family.
I thank Morgan and Ruby with hugs and go to my parents first. When my mom visited last month, she knew I was moving back to Chicago. My dad was really bummed to hear that he wouldn’t get to vacation in LA, but he thought a long weekend trip to Chicago would be great too.
I make my rounds, spending a little extra time giving Dex and Link hugs. I missed them both, but I wasn’t aware of how much they had become part of my life until tonight, seeing them here to welcome me home. Before I moved on to mingle with the rest of my guests, Dex lays a hand on my shoulder.
“He’ll be here. Give him some time.”
I suck in a breath, wondering if my initial scan of the group didn’t go unnoticed like I’d initially hoped. I just give him a slight smile and nod my head.
At least an hour goes by and I take a seat at one of the tables next to Ruby. She sits next to Link, Wade, and Bernie who are laughing and telling stories, having a grand ol’ time. I sit down after saying goodbye to my parents for the night, having made plans to do lunch with them tomorrow before they head back to Indy.
Ruby turns away from the group and leans into my side.
“Hey, gurl,” she says in a seductive voice. I chuckle.
“Hey, you haven’t by chance seen Ryan Gosling around here tonight, have you?”
She pouts. “Unfortunately, no. Now I’ll need to go on a Gosling binge.”
“I’m all for a rewatch of The Notebook or Crazy, Stupid, Love., but for the love of God, I’m not watching La La Land with you again. I hate that movie.”
“You only hate it because of the ending,” she counters.
“Exactly, which is enough to make a blanket statement about it,” I defend.
Her hands go up in surrender.
I sip my water and let out a small sigh.
“He came to the airport. To say goodbye.” She speaks low but clearly.
“What?” I stammer turning toward her.
“Yeah, he was about three minutes too late. He was all sweaty and out of breath, like he had just run miles to get to you,” she tells me. And I’m floored. And confused.
“What? I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” I say.
She continues. “We offered to call you to have you come back but he was pretty distraught. Said it wasn’t meant to be. Said you didn’t need to know he was there,” she says sadly.
I just stare at her with my jaw slacked and nearly on the floor.
“Don’t be mad,” she says quickly. My silence is clearly making her nervous.
I’m not. At least, I don’t think I am.
Am I?
Am I mad that he didn’t want me to know he came? Am I mad that no one told me? What would I have done if I had seen him? Cried, kissed him, told him I loved him? It would have only made getting on that plane about a thousand times harder. Am I glad I didn’t know?
“I’m not … mad,” I say, sounding less convincing than I thought because she winces.
I try to smile, but it’s strained. “I’m not mad. Really. At you or anyone else. I’m not even mad at him,” I tell her.
“OK. But for what it’s worth, I still think he’ll show up tonight. The night’s still young,” she says, grabbing my hand. I give her a smile when the table erupts at a joke that Bernie just told. We both turn back to the table and I try to submerge myself back into the pack. I feel like I’ve forgotten how to be around a group of friends.
A while later I excuse myself for a trip to the bar. I need a shot of something. We’ve been here for almost three hours now and there’s no sign of Simon.
I down my shot of tequila and wince as the smooth burn slides down my throat. I consider ordering another when I feel someone move into the spot on my right at the bar. The later it gets, the busier in here it gets, but this guy is kinda close. Out of the corner of my eye I see strong, lean, sexy-as-fuck forearms leaning onto the bar. It isn’t until I hear an all-too-familiar voice order two shots of tequila that I realize it.
His voice is like my own personal brand of tequila. It warms my bones and soothes all my aches and pains. I angle my head toward him and offer a small smile.
His head is hanging slightly down toward the bar top but he’s looking right at me.
“Why are you always late?” I ask.
“Why are you always leaving?” he shoots back but there’s no venom behind it.
“I’m done leaving,” I tell him honestly. I’m not going to beg him to believe me. I’ll show him in time that I’m not leaving again if that’s what it takes.
“Is that right? Not your cup of tea?” He lifts a brow.
“Nope, leaving always means I lose the best parts of me.”
“Hmm.”
I turn toward him right as the shots are placed in front of him. My knees brush his thigh.
“Simon. I mean it. I’m done leaving. I didn’t have a choice the first time. I wanted a chance to chase my dream the second. And the one thing that was constant both times was that I had to leave you.”
He turns toward me now, giving me his full attention. I use his thoughtful expression as a cue to continue.
“I miss you when you are not in my life. I don’t care what capacity it is in. Whether we’re just friends or more, I want to be in your life,” I tell him.
“Bossy much?”
I smile but don’t give in. “You’re stuck with me.”
He sighs and, for a second, I think he’s going to tell me there’s not a chance in hell that I’m getting what I want. But when he speaks, his voice is full of tenderness.
“G. I’m sorry I ended things the way I did. I’m sorry that I didn’t say goodbye to you. I’m just sorry that I’ve wasted the past seven months not being a part of your life.”
I can feel the stupid happy tears in the back of my throat. He grabs my head in his hands and leans in close to my face, his eyes searching mine.
“G. I love you so fucking much. I’ve never stopped, and I never will stop.” I gasp, and I barely get my “I love you too” out before his mouth is on mine.
His lips are warm and soft, just as I remember. His hands stay cupped around my face and I hear distant cheers and catcalls. His tongue parts my lips as he steps in closer to me. I breathe him in, and his warmth, the feel of his lips on mine, the feeling of his entire being wrapping around me makes me feel at home.
We break apart, both taking in lungs full of air. His hands leave my face and quickly grab mine. He reaches back to the abandoned shots and slides one in front of me.
Then he brings his shot up in front of him.
“So, what do you say, G? How about one more round?”