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“It’s been a pretty good one.” As much as I want things to go back to normal with Lachlan, I refused to let it ruin my day.
“Good.” He wipes chocolate sauce from his lip.
When he got home from work he gave me my gifts, some new art supplies, a couple of books he thought I might like, and some money subtly hinting at using it to decorate my room.
We finish up our dessert, pay, and head back home.
We’re quiet on the drive home, and after he parks in the garage, I turn to him.
“I’m going to take a walk.”
“I can go with you,” he insists, undoing his seatbelt.
I shake my head. “No, I want to go alone.”
He looks a little hurt at first but then nods. “Okay, don’t stay gone long.”
“I won’t.”
While he heads up in the elevator, I take the stairs to the lobby, and exit onto the street. The sun is beginning to set, and everything is awash in hues of gold and orange.
Wrapping my jean jacket tighter around me to stave off the chill coming from the slight wind, I start walking, inhaling the fresh air.
The fading heat from the sun feels good on my face as I tilt my head skywards.
I want to stop feeling so lost. How do I find myself again? Show me the way.
I’m not surprised when my thoughts are granted no answers.
I keep walking, probably too far, and force myself to turn back around for the condominium.
My steps slow when I see the massive brown dog ahead of me, its owner standing tall and broad-shouldered beside him.
Why do I have to ache for him? Why? Why him out of all the other millions of people on the planet?
Again, no answers.
As if he senses my presence, Lachlan glances over his shoulder, startling when he sees me. He gives a shake of his head, his steps slowing too, like he’s waiting for me to catch up.
I speed up, passing him.
“Dani!” he calls out, making my stomach roll at the sound of his voice. “Dani, wait!”
His pleas slow me and within seconds a massive head bumps into my leg. I can’t help but smile at the brown dog with the sweet soulful eyes.
“Were you going to ignore me?” Lachlan’s voice is low.
I tilt my chin, meeting his intense gaze. “I was thinking about it.”
He works his jaw back and forth. “I deserve it.”
“Yeah, you do.” There’s
no sense in denying the facts.
“I’m sorry.” Again, like earlier today, he shoves his long fingers through his disheveled hair. “It … it has to be this way.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. The last thing I want him to think is I’m immature about this whole thing. I love him deeply, and miss being with him, whether he knows it or not he’s my happy place, but I do grasp the severity of the situation.
