Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
The edges of his lips curved down. “If only I’d given up after my breakup with Richard.” He affected a giant, melodramatic sigh. “Things would be so much better for me.”
“You’re about as transparent as Scotty’s horse,” I muttered.
“No, no. I mean it. I wouldn’t be at risk for heartache. What if Sawyer leaves me? What if he finds someone better? What if the next person he dates is really his soul mate? What then?”
“Can we be done now?”
He eyed me over his own coffee. “That depends. Do you hear how ridiculous you are?”
“Your opinion is like herpes. You really shouldn’t give it to someone else without asking first.”
He cracked a smile. “Duly noted.” James reached out and took my hand, his expression turning serious.
“Don’t do this,” I pleaded with a wavery sound to my voice.
“I just want you to think about something, okay? Think about what your mom’s life would be like right now if she hadn’t opened herself up to Birch. From what you’ve told me, she loved your father. Very much. But when Birch came around, she allowed herself to love him too. And love him more. They’re so obviously meant to be together, Oscar. And the only reason she was able to find her happy ever after is because she kept her heart open to it.”
I made a neutral noise of acknowledgment in my throat.
He sighed. “Okay, you can go now. The torture is over.”
“For now,” I muttered, shoving my chair back before he could hook it with his foot again.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
I nodded and shoved my emotions down before they spilled out all over the room like more of Chuckie’s fireworks. “Yeah, same.”
He laughed and pulled me in for a tight hug. “Don’t be a stranger. Come back out here and spend more time with us this summer. Promise me.”
Instead of answering him, I pulled back and shot him a smile. “I always knew you couldn’t get enough of me. Now, any idea when the love of your life might hook a man up with some breakfast?”
After hooking me up with some food, James gave me another hug and sent me on my way.
The flight back to the city was a blur, and then I spent the rest of the day keeping as busy as possible. I’d hoped working would be a distraction, but thoughts of Hugh still crept in. While I knew that rationally, James was correct, I also knew that I wasn’t in a place where my heart could handle that kind of risk again. Maybe someday, things would be different, but not now.
Because I’d been the one to cross the line with Hugh. I was the one who needed to get us safely back over it and into the friend zone again.
And that meant resisting the urge to send him ten thousand texts explaining what he already knew and asking if he was okay when I was fairly sure he wasn’t.
I studiously ignored my phone.
I ignored the constant urge to reach out.
I ignored the unrelenting silence that meant no one was reaching out to me.
This was about as effective as ignoring a throbbing toothache, or a migraine, or a heart attack. The harder I tried to ignore it, the more I noticed it, and the more painful it became.
Finally, after a lunch meeting on Monday, my phone pinged with the text I’d been waiting for.
Hugh
Smooth move, the leaving without saying goodbye thing.
My hands shook with nerves as I stared at the screen.
Oscar
I had to get back.
Hugh
Right. Believe me, I read the message you didn’t bother to leave me loud and clear.
Ooof. Hearing it from his perspective made it sound even worse than I’d known it to be… but what had been the alternative? A heartfelt hug? A “thanks for the mind-blowing sex”? A gasping, terrified plea to come home with me and never leave? Watching the light go out of Hugh’s eyes when I told him that none of the “metaphors” he’d come up with yesterday had the effect he’d seemed to hope for, and I refused to put him through the pain of attempting a relationship?
I panicked and tried to diffuse the situation the only way I knew how.
Oscar
I had to get back to Frank. He’s a demanding mistress. See attached.
I sent over a photo of Frank curled in my palm that I’d taken earlier and waited for Hugh’s usual OMG! or I’m so glad he’s feeling better response.
And I continued waiting.
By eleven that night, I caved and texted Hugh a video one of the wedding guests had posted in which my tumble off the boat was played in slow motion to the tune “Smooth Operator.”
There was no response.
The following day, I sent him an article debating the use of AI in wedding photo editing. It was a lame attempt to communicate, and we both knew it, but I didn’t want to lose the connection we’d spent an entire year creating.