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“You should call him,” he says simply. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just call and, with a few words, we could heal and bring our hearts back to our last night in New York City when the world was perfect.
“He doesn’t want to hear from me, Ox.”
“Hmm.” He half grunts, half speaks. “Connor said the exact same thing when I told him to call you. Both of you are lying, you know.”
“Ox …”
“I know. I know. It’s none of my business.”
“No, but thank you for caring. Tell Tori good luck with the launch. I’ll be the first to order some jeans from her.”
“I’ll tell her.” Ox hugs me tightly and then turns to leave the little coffee shop and let me drift back through my memories and wishes of Connor, alone again. Just before he walks out the door, he stops and turns to look at me. He wags a finger at me and looks a bit more upbeat.
“Can I come to see you next week sometime? Thursday maybe? There’s something else I want to discuss with you.” His eyes light up, but he doesn’t give any hints.
I open my mouth to reply, but he stops me with a hand and interjects, “And don’t worry. It’s not about Connor. Thursday?”
“OK, Thursday.”
