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Chapter Four
Terry
Once I got back to my apartment, I sat on my bed and looked at a picture of us. I couldn’t get the look on her face when I had mentioned the night at Moe’s out of my mind. There was such pain and anguish on her beautiful face. I thought I was safe mentioning the night we met, but it brought too many memories flooding back in. Sometimes on our anniversary, we would go back to Moe’s and pretend to be two strangers meeting over a game of pool. But that had been so long ago. I missed those days.
I sighed and lay back on the bed. Leaving her like that all those years ago had caused her a lot of pain. In my mind, I thought she would be past it by now. But when I saw her tiny frame climbing the stairs in the store, I knew okay or not, I had to go to her. I saw the whole exchange going differently. The two of us laughing and talking about the past. She would reveal that she was married, and I would tell her I was still alone. She would make a few snide comments about our last conversation, and that would be the end of it.
And then, when she saw me at her office, ready to photograph her for her spread for InStyle Magazine, she would smile her beautiful smile, answer the reporter’s questions, and complete an award-winning spread—no big deal. But apparently, this was going to be a big deal.
I needed to meet with her to discuss the flow of the shoot and what story I would like to tell. But now, based on the way she looked at me today, this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. I might not even be the one who would get to work with her; she could request another photographer. I hoped she didn’t. This job was the reason I had come back from London. A shot at photographing Mia in all her beauty was something I had been looking forward to, especially since it had been a long time since I’d seen her through the lens.
Instead, I worried it was going to go horribly wrong, much like our last one had years before...
* * *
“Terry, hey, it’s Mia.” Her voice had been at a decibel I’d never even heard before. “Remember me? The girl you just dumped by a postcard! A postcard, for God’s sake! Don’t I mean more to you than that? What the hell is going on? What’s the whore’s name that you’re screwing? Or is there more than one?” Mia was fuming, and I was scared. I’d known she wouldn’t be happy when she got my postcard, but I’d also known there was no other way. I hadn’t been expecting her phone call, though. I had assumed she would be upset, maybe send a letter of her own, but I never dreamed she would call.
“I need you to calm down. I can barely understand what you’re saying,” I said. I pinched the bridge of my nose, already hating myself for continuing to break her heart.
“This is about as calm as you will get me. Please, give me some answers! After everything we’ve been through, how can you do this to me? You just got to London. Do you have that little faith in yourself—or in us—that you could do this after just three weeks?” She was pleading with me now. Her voice held so much pain, I knew tears were falling from her hazel eyes. Tears I had caused and was now expected to explain.
Mia was a smart woman. She knew me well, so lying to her wasn’t going to be an option. If she knew I wasn’t telling the truth, she wouldn’t let it drop. So, I did the only thing I knew how to do.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t do this anymore. I’ve been so busy lately that I barely have time to eat or sleep, let alone write you letters. It’s not fair to us. I have to let you go. I can’t do the long-distance thing. You’ll always be wondering if I’m cheating on you with one of the models on the set. I’ll always be wondering what’s happening when you’re at the bar with Ally. We both deserve better than that. We deserve more than that. That’s why I have to let you go. I can’t do this.”
Click.With that, I had hung up the phone. I’d just stood there, picturing her standing in our apartment, holding onto the phone and breaking down because of my words. I hated myself for it. It gutted me hearing her cry; it always had. I never wanted to be the reason for her tears or her pain, and right now, I was. It had to be done, I kept reminding myself. I had to do it.
Someday, when everything was over, I would go to her and explain myself. Hopefully, it would be enough. If our relationship was truly as strong as we always said it was, then it would be enough. I could get her back.
* * *
And now it was time. If she really was keeping up with our weekend rituals, I knew exactly where she would go tomorrow morning. I would have to meet her there and try to talk to her. Help her get some perspective on this whole situation and let her see that me leaving her like that, however terrible it might have been, was the best thing I could have done for her. Now, she was so successful. She had her own company. She was amazing. I wished I had been there in the beginning to help her set it up and see her joy when she succeeded, but it wasn’t possible then. At least she had gotten the courage to do this on her own, and she had been able to do something she loved. Even if the thing she loved wasn’t me, she still had something. Some good had come out of the breakup.
I ran a hand through my hair. I had to get some sleep if I was going to see her tomorrow. I needed to be rested so I could get my words out in a way that wouldn’t hurt her further. I needed to prepare her for the week ahead. She needed to know that I would be working with her, closely, and I needed to know she could handle it.
Here’s hoping, I thought as I stripped my clothes off and headed for the shower. To wash away the city, the day, and both the dread and the joy I felt at seeing my one true love again. “I still know you, Mia. And tomorrow, I’m going to prove to both of us just how much.”
