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“Freya moved out,” he admitted.
She did?
“I uh, actually kicked her out, after you guys… Fuck, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sure, but she’s not going to want to see me.” I wasn’t even sure I wanted to see her.
That was a lie.
I’d give my left nut to see her again and smell her perfume.
“You won’t see her. We only see her once a week or so. She moved out and got a new job, so she’s not around. It won’t be a problem.”
I smiled, feeling so incredibly proud of her.
“Alright. I’ll get some time off, and I’ll let you know when I can come out.”
“Karma will be excited to get a room ready for you.”
“Sure, alright,” I agreed knowing this was going to come back and bite me right in the ass.
Even still, I wanted to see him and Karma, and on top of that, I couldn’t give up a possible opportunity to see Freya.
“Great, well, I’ll let you know.”
“Good. Hey, it looks like I’m needed in the gallery, so I’ll let you go.”
Hanging up the phone a minute later, I considered that trip. I knew Freya wouldn’t want to see me at all. But I needed to see her, even if she hated my fucking guts.
Coward that I was when she was involved, I knew how to conquer those fears when I needed to and after a month of hiding away from that conversation we’d had most recently, I was so ready to buck up and give her whatever she needed to move on. No matter how much it tore me up, I’d give it to her. Because I fucking loved her.
It was dumb. So incredibly dumb, but about a week ago while I jerked off to memories of her while I was in the shower, I was finally able to admit to myself that I loved her, too. And I loved her enough to break myself down in order to build her back up. That was it. End of story. Maybe once I saw that she was doing alright, I could finally move on. I didn’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. I’d tried going on a few dates, but everyone I’d met was like watching black and white TV after experiencing full 3D. After the first couple dates that Yamin had set me up on ended pretty poorly, he’d given up. The rest were set up from chicks at bars, which always fucking turns out well. Can you sense the sarcasm there?
I needed a clean break, and so did she, if the cold shoulder she’d been giving me meant anything.
So yeah, I’d set up that trip, and I’d visit her away from her parents to hash out all the shit that still clung on to us even after two whole years of avoidance.
I suppose there’s something to the old idea that burying your head in the sand doesn’t make your problems go away. If only.
Now, that tattoo was done, and I was getting to the point that I needed some kind of closure if there was any kind of moving on for me in the future, and after our call, I realized that she needed it, too.
Grabbing my helmet, I made my way toward the garage and worked on snagging some tickets to Las Vegas. I was heading to work, but I needed to buy those tickets before that old, unfamiliar cowardice crept back in and made me question myself again.
There, tickets bought. In two weeks I’d be in Vegas to visit an old friend, and to face the reality that the only girl in the whole fucking world that I wanted, I couldn’t have.
Chapter 27
Freya
“I need this re-written by the end of day,” my supervisor said, looking all kinds of irritated.
Rightfully so, because I couldn’t get my Goddamn head on straight. I’d already sent that financial sheet up three times and kept screwing it up.
I was just distracted. Distracted by life, dating, whatever Mom and Dad were hiding from me, and stupid Ashton.
Damn, stupid Ashton.
Grumbling to myself, I retyped the sheet up and triple checked it before getting to my feet in my practical kitten heels. Funny, for every year I worked in an office, day after day, my heels had gotten an inch shorter. By next year, I’d be in flats. The year after that, sneakers.
