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“It sounds like you’ve forgiven me…”
“Yeah. Guess I have.”
I thought Lizzie would be the stubborn one, but after our talk, she seemed to let me in again.
“I want my mom to be happy, and she’s never been as happy as she was when you two were together. And now she’s miserable…and I’ve never seen her so miserable. If you two are together again, she’ll be happy again, at least that’s what I think.”
Yeah, I imagined we would be. “I appreciate you saying that, but I have to earn her trust and her forgiveness. That’s my job—not yours. I’ll keep working on it.”
“Should I tell her about the tutoring and the guy who came to the door?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. “That’s up to you, Liz.”
“Why don’t you just tell her?”
“Because I didn’t do those things to get her back. I did them because I wanted to. Even if she never takes me back, I would love to keep helping you forever. Because our friendship is independent of my relationship with your mom.”
She was quiet for a long time, loud talking all around her. “I think I’m going to tell her. I’m afraid she won’t let you help me anymore, but I think she should know that you love her so much.”
Ryan glanced back and forth between us—over and over.
I looked at Ryan.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just weird, seeing the two of you together. Together and not going at it, at least.”
Kevin smiled slightly as he looked down into his beer. “I think those days are behind us.”
I drank my beer and let the topic fall by the wayside. “You’re leaving next week, right?”
“Yep,” Ryan said. “We’re going to fuck in those cobblestone alleyways near the Vatican, get it on in the vineyards of Tuscany, going to do it in that hotel where they filmed Letters to Juliet. It’s gonna be fucking romantic.”
“Sounds romantic,” I teased.
“Maybe Beatrice and I need to change our plans and do the same thing,” Kevin said.
“Hell no,” Ryan said. “This is our thing. You can still get nasty in the Bahamas.”
“But doing it in public…” Kevin nodded. “That sounds pretty fun.”
I couldn’t imagine Emerson and me having sex in public. I liked to take my time; I liked to treasure every drop of clothing, the silence that allowed our quiet breaths to sound as loud as screams. I liked having her all to myself, not stopping for anything.
Ryan must have seen the look on my face before he dropped the subject. “How are things with you, man?”
“Mom is doing well,” I said. “The doctors expect her to defeat it soon.”
“Man, that’s awesome,” Kevin said. “I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Me too,” Ryan said. “Your mom’s a fighter.”
“Yeah, she is.” We all lost our minds, but she stayed steady and true. Dad fell apart and so did I, but she continued to smile. I hoped I would be brave like that whenever there was a bump in the road for me.
“So, anything new with Emerson?” Ryan asked. “I noticed you haven’t been going out anymore.”
I shook my head. “Still working on it. She’s stubborn, but I’m patient. I’d wait a lifetime for her, so it’s not a big deal. When she’s ready, she’ll come.”
“You sound a lot more confident than you used to,” Kevin said. “That’s good.”
I shrugged. “I guess I have faith that our love is enough.”
I was nervous.
I sat in front of my computer at the dining table just like I used to, waiting for my assistant to show up and force me to do something I didn’t want to do. But now, everything was different because she was the only person in the whole world I wanted to walk through that door.
There wasn’t a lot of opportunity for me to be alone with her, not anymore. She rarely came to the warehouse when I was by myself, like she was purposely avoiding it. I didn’t have a game plan tonight, so I hoped just being in the same room together would drop her walls. Every time I tried to talk about us, it seemed to pain her, so I would let our feelings do all the work.
She knocked on the door before she let herself inside. In yoga tights and a baggy shirt, she was dressed in the same attire she wore while she watched TV at night with a glass of wine in her hand. She skipped the makeup too. She seemed to purposely downplay her appearance.
Like that would make any difference.
I wanted her no matter what she looked like—she seemed to have forgotten.
Seeing her dressed casually made me want her more, actually. It made me remember those nights that I found holy, when we would lounge in her apartment then make love after her daughter went to sleep. It was easy and simple…and the kind of life I wanted for the rest of my days.
