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I take a seat in the leather chair across from her, carefully assessing every feature. Like she should look different somehow. I mean, she is now an engaged woman. A woman who is promised to someone else. But that’s not what I saw. I saw Tilly Harper for what she always was.
Mine.
Can I help you? She signs, before folding her hands on her desk like this was any other consultation.
I lift a brow. Do I need a reason to stop by? I sign back.
She straightens her shoulders. Actually yes. If you are here about volunteering, you need to see Dixie. I’m busy.
She motions her hand around the room. The room that was the perfect reflection of who she was.
A beautiful mess.
I hike my ankle up onto my knee. I didn’t respond. I just let my gaze continue to document the things that were the same and the things that had changed. She squirms in her seat under my stare and I doubt she even realizes she’s anxiously spinning the ring on her left hand.
His fucking ring.
I move my attention back to her eyes and bring my hands up. Congratulations.
She swallows thickly and just like she always did when she was nervous, her fingers reach up to pick at her bottom lip after she signs, thank you.
I lean up from the chair, planting both feet on the ground as I reach across the desk. My hand catches her wrist, and her eyes widen. I slowly lower her hand from her lips, like I had done a million times and a light gasp escapes her at the contact.
I couldn’t help but glance down at the diamond. It was flashy. Nothing like my Rosie at all. I ran my finger over her knuckle, letting the feel of her skin give me the fix I had been craving for weeks. A few seconds of silence linger between us when her phone rings. The screen lights up with the name Blaine.
Her eyes flicker up to mine. I keep a hold of her hand, waiting to see what move she would make. Silently daring her to just let it ring.
On the third ring she tugs her hand away. I need to take this, she signs, fingers still graceful as ever.
I nod. “Don’t mind me," I say aloud and settle back in my seat.
She huffs out a sigh as she stands, giving me her back as she answers the phone.
“Hello.” Her voice is even.
I let my chin rest against my hand as I rake my eyes down her body. The same one had I touched not too long ago.
“No. That’s fine.” She clears her throat. “I miss you too.”
I’ve been sacked by three hundred pounds of pure muscle countless times and none of those inflicted pain like hearing her say those words.
Did she really mean it?
Was it a natural response?
Did she miss me?
“Yeah. This weekend is still good.” She drops her hand down and moves a few papers.
“Alright.”
Her hand goes back to her plump lip.
“Ok. You too, bye," she rushes out before hanging up the phone.
She keeps her back to me for a moment. If I know her, she’s resetting. Gathering her wits.
She spins around and faces me.
