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“You’re hilarious.” Lorenzo reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out, extracting a card from it with ease. “Ta da.”
“You got your driver’s license!” Katrina sat up and gave him a quick congratulatory kiss that deepened when he sighed into her. “I’m so happy for you.”
“For us. We can officially go on a date now. If he’ll let me take one of the cars, that is.”
“We’ve been dating for a while.”
“I mean a real date, Trina. One with roses and dinner and...and the theatre. I know how much you love the theatre.”
“You’d do that for me?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I’d do anything for you.”
“Anything?”
He left of whisper of a kiss and spoke against her lips. “Anything.”
***
Katrina woke with astart, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Of course, she would dream about him. He was already consuming her thoughts, her emotions even though he had only just crashed back into her life. Literally.
“Damn it,” she muttered, pushing back her hair with a shaking hand. She would have to see him today. She needed to return his belongings, after all.
What would she say to him?
“I could say ‘thanks for friending Emily and not me’,” she muttered as she shuffled towards her kitchen. “I could say ‘where the hell have you been for the past ten years.’ I could say a ton of things to him. Bastard.” She felt the hurt centered in her chest, aching the way it had years before.
He was back now.
But for how long?
And...and what did that mean for her? For them?
Did it mean anything?
“I suppose I could stalk his Facebook now.” She picked her phone up, then sighed. “No. Coffee.” Placing her phone back down, she prepared a half pot of coffee, fully aware she’d drink the entire thing.
Her phone pinged, indicating a text from Justin.
Best of luck today.
She replied with a dry ‘thanks’ without asking him if he could call off work, or perhaps go in late. She didn’t need backup to see Lorenzo. She was an adult now who had processed his betrayal and the bitterness it had left within her.
The same bitterness that held her back with Timothy.
“Fuck, Timothy!” She shook her head and sent a text to him, letting him know that she wouldn’t be at work that day, either, and that she would contact him later. Her boss already knew, but Timothy had a habit of stopping by.
Tell me you’re not going to see himwas Timothy’s reply.
“I have to,” she said aloud as she typed the words. “I have to return his things to him.”
What are you doing with his things?
“Oh, I don’t have time for this. Or the energy.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and plopped down in her favorite chair in the living room.
Visiting hours would begin soon.
She looked at the neat pile of Lorenzo’s belongings, his clothing freshly laundered, his wallet and destroyed phone on top along with the notebook. She could return it all, tell him good luck with his life, and leave.
