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"I'd say Afghanistan and Miami are pretty different scenes."
"Yeah. In Miami, all he has to deal with women, money, and scandal," she said lightly, then looked at me. "Sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that."
"That's okay. It's true," I choked out. Roman was happy. If part of the reason why was he was meeting other girls then that was a good thing. I tried to be happy for him and failed. Whatever I was, I couldn't be mad. He didn't owe me anything. I told him to get out of my life and never speak to me again. He could date whoever he wanted.
"I mean, we don't talk about that stuff. I just assume. He hasn't actually mentioned anything like that."
"Tiff, it's fine," I said. "I'm just happy to hear that everything is working out. This was what I wanted for him in the first place, and he's getting it."
"Yeah. I guess it is," she said. I didn't ask whether he had said anything about me. I wanted to know, obviously. I wanted to know everything, but that didn't matter. I knew the most important thing which was he was doing well. That alone meant I had made the right decision breaking it off so he could leave.
We split when it was
time to do our tests. After grabbing lunch off campus with Tiffany after, I drove home.
I thought about what I would cook that night, but scrapped that plan immediately. Takeout, under a blanket, watching television sounded like the only real way that today would end. Maybe I'd get some wine to celebrate a semester well spent. Why not. Tonight I'd go to bed knowing that I had nothing that I had to do tomorrow.
I had missed that feeling. I loved feeling the accomplishment I would feel when I did something well for school, but the relief at being free for the next few weeks was trumping that at the moment. I passed by the store and bought a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers because now I wouldn't be so stressed out that I forgot to water them and went home. I took my time, taking the stairs up to my apartment.
I wasn't sure what I was looking at when I saw it. I slowed down, trying to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was. It was different from the last two I had found. This one was a gift box, pink with a bow on it, similar to the one that he had given my necklace to me in. I mean, if it was him who had left it behind at all. I didn't know that. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but my mind couldn't help connecting the dots for me as I ripped the lid from it.
Inside was a single sheet of plain paper, with writing on one side. I stopped because I needed to slow down. I was getting ahead of myself. Confirming what I already thought was true was both harrowing and exciting.
Was it really? Of course it was, who the hell else would leave something like that for me on my doorstep? He had done it before and if this was him again...
I stopped myself and took a deep breath. I picked the note out of the box, reading the neat, black print.
The usual spot. Noon tomorrow. See you there.
My heart thudded in my chest. It was his handwriting. It was the same message as the notes he had sent me this way in the past. I knew what it was asking me, but why? How? He was supposed to be in Miami. I vaguely remembered myself yelling at him to leave me alone because I was done with us. I wanted my old life back. What a joke. He thought so, too.
I read it again, my heart thumping. Tomorrow at noon. Tomorrow at noon something would happen. Whatever it was, I was excited.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Roman
I looked down at the spread. Suddenly, sandwiches seemed too easy. I hadn't made them, I had bought them. Sun dried tomato, pickle, and Swiss cheese. Her favorite. Was it enough? Was a picnic too casual? I thought I'd go with something thoughtful instead of direct, like asking her to dinner. We could be alone here, and this was our spot. It was lower stakes, too, in case she was nervous and didn't want to go on an actual dinner date.
I was a little sad, remembering the last time I had tried to get her to do this with me. It had worked in the end, after about a week of false starts. It wasn't noon yet. It was a few minutes to twelve, so she technically had time. All I wanted was for her to show up. If she didn't then I didn't know whether I could commit to waiting for her to come around like the last time. I was on a much tighter schedule these days.
I hadn't told her anything in the note, but she'd know what to expect. Right? She was a smart girl. I took the brownies out of the basket and looked out along the boundary of the trees. A couple dog walkers in the distance. Some people with kids. Nobody that looked like Veronica. Yet.
I was hopeful. I felt like, the way we left things, we both wanted to make it right. The next time I looked at my phone, it was officially 12:03. I'd give her... I didn't know how much time to give her before she was late. I stood, making sure everything looked okay, walking around the blanket.
Maybe I should have gotten wine? Would she have liked that? Why was I so nervous? This was Veronica. The girl I had been in love with for almost the last four years. I knew her, and what she liked. I knew what I felt about her and I was pretty sure about what she felt about me too. I just needed this to be perfect. We needed to talk about some things. If today went well, everything would change.
A sound behind me made me look over my shoulder. She was wearing shorts and a white tank top. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. Our eyes met and then I was moving. Then she was. And then, I was holding her. My arms were around her so tight I might have been crushing her, but I didn't want to let go.
I lifted her into my arms, feeling her legs wrap around my waist. It was like this rush of relief getting my arms back around her. I kissed her, and she opened up to me. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and tasted her. I groaned, squeezing her tighter. I couldn't have predicted what could have happened when I saw her, but this reaction was about as good as I could have asked for.
"I couldn't believe it when I saw the box last night," she said, pulling away.
"I was nervous that you wouldn't come," I confided, lowering her to the ground.
"This might be the only chance I have to come clean," she said. "I pushed you away and I shouldn't have done it, Roman. It was your choice to make and-"
"Babe, slow down," I told her. "Come sit." I took her hand and led her to the blanket. I sat and she sat next to me.
