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“Sunny side up,” I said, walking into the kitchen and refraining from staying in spy mode while John and my parents pranced around the kitchen happily as if he’d been part of our family for years.
Fucking charmer.
“That’s right,” John smirked back at me. “And you like yours poached?”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, taking the coffee she poured me before walking over to join Dad at the table while John stood behind the stove where bacon sizzled in Mom’s favorite cast iron skillet and eggs were cooking as if the man were a short-order cook. “I didn’t know you knew how to cook like this,” I questioned with a smile, finding this incredibly charming and attractive.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” John said. “I love to cook.”
“Then, why did you always hire a chef or have food delivered when we were together?” I asked.
“I figured you dug that shit,” he shrugged.
“Well, it seems you have much to learn about me too, don’t you?”
“And that’s why we’re doing it this way,” he said as my parents discussed going to the hardware store. They needed to get stuff for Dad to fix a bench that Jimmy broke in the backyard after the moonshine caught up to him.
“What are we doing in what way?” I asked.
He handed me all the eggs he’d slid onto a plate, and then, one by one, he took the bacon strips and started to pile them onto another plate.
“Well, if you’ll trust me enough to date you again, we’ll go slow and do it the right way. We moved too fast in the first round. I’m not making that mistake again.”
“Ah,” I said, handing the plate of eggs to Mom, who was instantly there, taking them from my hand and bringing them to the breakfast table. “Well, I’d love to keep you hanging, wondering if I’d date you again or not, but I think I’ll give in a little.”
He smiled at me so brightly that his eyes nearly sparkled, “You’re serious?”
“As serious as I am about my preference for poached eggs over underdone eggs,” I said. “But I’m not playing games this time,” I warned him. “It’s up to you if you think it’s worth it to try again or if you’d rather just move on to someone who doesn’t expect you to prove yourself and try to make everything right again.”
“I wounded your heart,” he said, looking somberly into my eyes. “I plan to heal that wound no matter how long it takes. It would kill me to know I’d caused you this kind of pain, ruining your ability to trust anyone again. I’m an honorable and loyal man, and I hold myself accountable for what I’ve done. I’m just honored to have the chance to repair the damage I’ve caused and make you happy again.”
“I like the way that sounds,” I said. “Now, let’s eat before this gets cold. Then maybe we can take Marmaduke for a walk along the river?”
“That is the biggest dog I’ve ever seen,” he said, referring to my dad’s Great Dane. “Are you sure he’s not going to walk us instead?”
“She is the biggest sweetheart you’ve ever met,” I laughed. “And while she might be big enough to ride, she doesn’t realize that. Once she gets to the river, she hops around like a puppy, chasing all the bugs and trying to jump in the water.”
“I thought Marmaduke was a boy,” he said, confused. “It’s the dog from the comic strip, right?”
“Don’t get me started,” I said as my dad chuckled. “Pop thought he was being clever when he gave her a boy’s name.”
“You two better hurry up and finish your breakfast,” Mom said, hearing the dog barking outside. “I think she heard your plans.”
I didn’t know if this would be a long or short road. I had no idea how long it took to trust someone again after being hurt so badly, and I wanted to be smart; however, I was happy my fear that he could never win back my trust or heart was fading with each interaction. Most of all, I loved that he was willing to have patience with me and my heart…something my ex never did. Jesse moved on and took the easier route, blaming me for everything and finding the first gullible woman to entertain his smile and big words. Until John, I’d never had a man make me feel so important or, dare I say it, cherished in all my life.
I knew in my heart that things were different with John. This was real. And though a short-lived relationship forced us into a painful separation, it was a love I’d never known before. I guess the saying to trust your heart is true because my heart knew exactly what it wanted at this very moment. And that was John.
A month had passed since we came home from Tennessee, and things had been going great. We were flirtatious with each other again and taking things slow—the pace was perfect. I thought John would be impatient because of my fears of things going awry, but I was the one coming out of my skin, wanting him again.
I pulled up to his tiny apartment after I got off work and smiled as I looked at the building. The place still cracked me up. It was a far cry from his multi-million-dollar bachelor pad, and his Igloo ice chest out on his balcony became one of my favorite pieces of décor for his humble abode.
I walked through the apartment complex, iron fencing out of 1972 lining the face of the yellow-painted stucco, and turned right when I made it to the broken fountain in the courtyard that was probably cute back in its day when it worked.
I hopped up the cement steps to Apartment 106—John’s place. After knocking four or five times, I figured he was probably out on his balcony, looking down at the cars parked in their assigned spots for the tenants who resided there. Instead of walking around and waving up at him, I called his phone.
I missed him so much already. We’d been working crazy schedules—he’d been on-call at the hospital all week instead of in the office with me—and it made me yearn to see him again. God only knew what that meant for the Chinese takeout I had in my hand and the cot he used for a bed.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he answered after one ring. “I’m in the laundry room. It’s across from the fountain and around the corner.”
