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Marisa
Tyler was everywhere. The hat he left behind was still hooked on the back of the kitchen chair. The mug I gave him sat next to the espresso machine he bought me for Christmas.
Freshly dressed and made up after Catherine left, I plopped onto the couch, closed my eyes, and released a deep exhale.
I tightened my hand around the phone—still no answer. It had gone straight to voicemail again. I knew there was a chance I’d pushed Tyler too far this time. Was he right when he said I was pushing him away? No. I shook my head. I wasn’t pushing him away. I didn’t want or intend to make him feel that way.
But hell, I should just admit that that was exactly what it seemed like I was doing. I was such an idiot. I shoved up off the couch and headed to the one room I had been avoiding as much as I could since Tyler left. If anyone knew I’d been sleeping on the couch since that stormy night, they’d think I’d completely lost it. In a way, I had. The bed was bare except for the rumpled sheets and Tyler’s pillow. I tossed the comforter and my pillow onto the bed, not caring that it was a huge, disheveled mess.
Sleep hadn’t been easy because my dreams were filled with images of Tyler. And since I was still on medical leave from work, all I had been able to do was try my best to fill my days with meaningless tasks. Deep cleaning and organizing, in between going over cold cases, only kept my mind busy for so long. It was all I could do to try and keep my mind off of him. I needed to get back to the precinct so I’d have something to focus on that could really keep my mind occupied.
I pushed my hands through my hair and exhaled a frustrated breath as the clock reminded me it had been way too long since I’d seen him.
At the thought that I was ready to go and win my man back, I couldn’t get out of my apartment fast enough. I hooked my bag onto my shoulder and hurried to the door, checking myself over one final time in the mirror before leaving.
My hand flew to my mouth and my breath caught in my throat.
The fact that Tyler was standing on the other side of the door when I whipped it open startled me. And my first thought was that I was dreaming, that this was all a figment of my imagination.
Because Tyler standing on my doorstep with his hand raised as if he was just about to knock was the last thing I expected.
He looked utterly exhausted and somehow even more handsome than I remembered. His unshaven scruff gave him a wild look. His hair was still damp and not styled like he usually wore it. And he was dressed as if he hadn’t given two thoughts about what he was putting on—wrinkled jeans, an old NAVY issued t-shirt, and tennis shoes. He was a sight for sore eyes, and he was the best thing I’d seen in days.
The man standing before me was everything I wanted, and I couldn’t wait to tell him how much this time, I was going to be the one to fight. This time I wasn’t going to let him walk away without telling him exactly how I felt.
“Hi,” he said. His voice was music to my ears. Our eyes locked, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to get lost in his, wondering how I ever let him walk away.
“You’re here.” I sounded out of breath.
“I’m here,” he repeated back. Those piercing blue eyes of his pinned me motionless to the floor. For a moment, I was thankful because seeing him, the sight of him in front of me, made me want to sink to the ground and beg for his forgiveness.
“Come in,” I said as I turned abruptly, hoping he would follow. When I heard the door click shut, I was too afraid to turn around to see if he stayed or if he decided to close the door on us forever. My hesitation only served to magnify my anxiety and reinforce the fact that he was the only man I wanted. He was the only man I wouldeverwant.
The sound of his footsteps calmed my racing heart. “Marisa.” The deep rumble of his voice saying my name cut through me like a knife. My heart stopped and started in one beat. Then it began racing again.
My shaky feet turned to face him. “God, Tyler, I’m so sorry.”
His hands immediately framed my face, “Let me look at you, Siren.”
My heart melted hearing the term of endearment on his lips.
He leaned forward, kissed me, and then rested his forehead against mine as his thumbs moved over my cheeks. Time seemed to tick by as we stood unspeaking, a cyclone of emotions whirling around us.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” I whispered, scared to hear his answer.
He shook his head as he pressed another kiss to my lips. “I told you I would always be here for you. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”
“You didn’t answer any of my calls or texts.”
“I didn’t at first because of pride.” He frowned. “Once I got over that, Ben took my phone away. That’s where I’ve been, out camping with Ben since I missed the retreat.”
“Retreat?” I asked, not knowing what he was talking about.
“I’ll tell you about that later. The important thing was you healing and getting out of the hospital. Making sure you were okay. That was the only thing that mattered to me.”
I shook my head, feeling guilty. I didn’t know how to respond.
“Don’t worry about all that,” he continued. Tyler’s words were stern, and his tone warned me not to argue with him about this right now. “When I left here a couple nights ago,” he continued, “I was in a bad place. Jackson told Ben to get me out of the office and help me get my head on straight. And so, when I finally wanted to call you, we were up in the hills. We’d had a couple beers, a couple shots. Ben took my phone so I wouldn’t call you all drunk. Treated me like a damn third grader. And my phone’s been dead ever since. We just got back this morning. I took a shower and came right over.”
