My apartment hadn’t been touched much.
Apparently the movers came in and decided the majority of my things – or lack thereof – weren’t worth the trip.
That turned out to be a good thing.
Noodle seemed content enough to be home, perching by his spot on the window that someone had finally pushed shut. It’d rained again after coming home yesterday, and today there was no puddle though the floor was permanently darker there.
Though I’d had yet another night of sleeplessly staring at the ceiling, I readied myself for work.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him. Maddox chasing after me down the driveway, the call of my name on his handsome mouth.
Was it only desperation to be married that made him call after me?
Or was it something more?
I wanted to laugh at my cruel mind. Of course it was nothing more.
After pulling out a pair of jeans and a crumpled yellow t-shirt, I stared carefully out the peephole of my apartment door as though I were expecting Maddox to show up.
But he wasn’t there. Nor was he lingering outside of my café as I thought might be, and nor did he show up in the first few hours of the day.
When someone did finally turn up, it was Reagan.
She smiled at me gently when she entered, tossing her keys onto the counter and gliding up onto the chair. Her silence told me she’d managed to hear what had happened, otherwise she’d be peppering me with questions on how living with the billionaire had gone.
Quietly, I made her the typical cappuccino and pushed it towards her. She took a sip and then winced.
“It’s off today.” She noted, smacking her lips.
“I’m just so not in the mood to do anything.” I reply, walking around the counter to sit limply beside her.
She reaches out to take my hand in her own cool grasp, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“So things didn’t turn out like you hoped?” She asks softly.
I just shake my head, another round of tears blurring my eyes. I could’ve sworn I’d already cried so much I’d have none left. But here I was, sniffling into my friend’s shoulder as she rocks me back and forth like a baby.
The picture of my mom gazes at me from next to the espresso machine, even her laugh trying to comfort me.
You did your best. She says gently.
But had I?
Or had I just failed?
“I know the whole thing was rushed, but the way he looked at you, Ava…” Reagan began slowly, chewing on her lip as though she couldn’t decide her choice of words was going to be helpful or hurtful, “It just reminded me so much of how Eli looks at me, of how Poppy’s husband looks at her.”
I sink into her embrace, letting my chin sit on her sharp shoulder. She rubs my back, sighing again.
“He was a good man, huh?” She finally settles on saying.
“He is.” I reply, sniffling and wiping at my damp eyes. The tears fall steady, like water trickling out of a slightly open spout, unable to stop.
“I thought we had something special too, Reags. Just the way I felt being next to him, I’ve never felt like that in my life.”
She tugs back just slightly to push my bangs away from my face and give me a warm smile.
“You’ll feel like that again, I promise.” She assures me with a wink.
I know better than to argue with Reagan Nelson, but I honestly doubt the veracity of her words.
The door chimes as a small party walks in, they settle in one of the nearby tables, flipping over the laminated menu as I detangle from Reagan to take their order. Several scones and espresso shots later, a few more people wander in.
By noon, the place is packed.
Reagan still sips her coffee at the bar, gazing over the new patrons sagely.
“What’s going on today?” I ask, shocked.
Was there some festival I didn’t know about?
Reagan just shrugs, asking for a refill.
With the shop this crowded, it was hard to maneuver. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so stuffed to the brim. I was even having trouble keeping track of the orders that came flying in and out of the kitchen.
I lost myself in freshly baked cookies, warm sandwiches, and an endless bout of coffee refills. I’d even run out of mugs and had to use my paper travel cups though the clients didn’t seem to mind.
Because I wasn’t used to the sheer volume of the orders flying in, I struggled to keep up with my inventory list. I was buried face deep in it when another group entered the café.
I didn’t look up, hoping they would just approach the counter.
“Ava.” He said, and I knew that voice.
That familiar silky smoothness, the deep gentle gruffness. When I tilted my face back Maddox gazes down at me with soft sapphire eyes that I hadn’t even realized I so longed to see.
I’d worked myself to the bone today to forget that handsome face and the way he said my name.
I’d done everything to lose myself in the crowd of people just so I could ignore the sensation of my heart breaking even further with each painful pulse it had.
Leaving him at his home was like leaving another half of me behind.
The dimple in his chin bursts as his mouth curves into an affectionate smile. Reagan sits straighter in her chair, clutching her coffee and gazing at us as though she’s watching a soap opera. Her eyes blink so fast I can’t tell when their open and when their closed.
I can’t bring myself to look into his face after I’d run from our relationship, burying my face into my hands as the sobs I’d been working so hard against ripple through me.
His hands brush my shoulder, lifting my chin with his warm, large hand.
“I have something to tell you, Ava. Words that I need to say. I haven’t been able to find them until now.”