Did she really say I didn’t care? Clearly my intentions, honorable as they were, didn’t come across to Liz. What is my goal here? This woman is so exasperating. I stomp my foot, trying to clear my head. I cannot believe she honestly believes I haven’t been thinking of her. Every bloody day, Liz. Every single bloody day. I did this for her!
I have to set her straight.
Chapter 25
Liz, May 22
I thought I was prepared to see him right up until I did. I barely had time to process the fact that he was there and then he was in front of me. I don’t even know what I said; all I know is that anger was instantly in my throat, choking me.
I think I recovered quickly. I hope I came across as confident. I am sitting at the bar now, but I am terrified to turn around and see if he is still behind me.
“Hey, Liz Banks?” some guy at my elbow asks.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Chris Anderson. How the heck are ya?” He thrusts his hand out and I accept it, shaking.
I smile as I desperately try to remember who Chris Anderson is. It comes to me quickly, but blurry like an old VHS movie. “Were you in my English class?” I ask, hesitantly.
“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, his whole face lighting up with recognition. “We did the Real Housewives of Verona skit for the Romeo and Juliet unit.”
“That’s right, we did.” I smile at the strange memory. “How have you been?”
“Good. I’m married now. The old ball-and-chain will be along tomorrow for the reunion. How about you?”
“I’ve been good.” Safe. Seems like a safe answer.
“Married? Kids?” he presses.
Just like that, I hate Chris Anderson. “Um, no. Still single.” I try to keep my voice upbeat, like this isn’t a sore subject he’s encroached upon.
Chris gives me a sad little smile and taps my shoulder. “That’s alright. I’m sure the right person is out there somewhere.”
I force a laugh, but inside I’m screaming. Funny how I can unload all my fury on Ben in front of half a bar, but when it comes to admitting I’m hurt to Chris Anderson, of all people, I choke on the words.
On that note, I just want to leave. “I actually have to go.” I lamely add, “I just remembered I left my stove on.” I don’t finish my drink or slow down to look around the room as I rush out. I have the irrational thought that if I walk fast enough I can leave the pain I don’t want to explain sitting there at the bar with stupid Chris Anderson and his intrusive questions. If I don’t stop I won’t feel the pain; it won’t find me. I reach my car, fumble with the keys, wrench open the door, drop myself in the seat, and slam the door again — anything to create a barrier. I’m actually in my car with the air conditioning on before the tears start.
Chapter 26
Ben, May 22
I saw her leave the bar just as I was heading back toward it. I watched her walk to her car, get in, and then break down. It broke my heart to see Liz like that. She was sitting alone in her sad little Saturn in a dark parking lot, crying. I couldn’t leave her like that. It physically hurt; my stomach was churning.
Before I can stop myself my feet are moving toward the car. I keep repeating, “this is stupid,” but my feet keep moving. In the car, Liz drops her head into her hands and her shoulders bounce as she sobs. My heart feels like it will burst. You cannot turn off love and I suddenly feel so foolish for thinking I could. In my head I thought what I was doing was best for her all those months ago. But as I watch her cry, I realize that was just stupid. I need to protect her.
I reach the car and, afraid that she’ll lock the door if I give her the chance, I just open it. Liz looks at me with startled eyes. I see anger, confusion, and fear play across her face. Before she can hit me, yell at me, or drive off, I drop to my knees and pull her into an awkward hug.
For thirty agonizing seconds she doesn’t react. Then, miraculously, I feel her melt into my body. She cries harder. I can’t take away her pain — I think I might even be responsible for some of it — so I just hold her.
I never want to let go.
Chapter 27
Liz, May 22
When my car door opens it scares the shit out of me. I actually think someone is robbing me. Seriously, one person should not have to experience the assault of emotions that come after that. Once my brain registers and processes the face I am seeing, the anger is so intense it actually stops my tears for a second. Then comes the exhaustion, I am just too tired to do this. Finally, overwhelming, unexplainable happiness.
The thought that someone cares enough to find me in the dark just means so much. It is that intense relief that launches me into Ben’s arms. For the first time in weeks, I don’t feel alone.
