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She knew tonight would be nothing like that. He’d told her he wanted to get to know her again, regain the friendship that they’d lost. He had been her best friend, her confidante, the one who knew her better than anyone else.
And now...
Now she was watching the clock, waiting for the hands to move, waiting for the knock to never come.
No. He wouldn’t abandon her, not now.
That is what she’d thought then, too, when she’d naively wrapped herself up in all things Lorenzo so tight that she couldn’t see what was happening right before her very eyes.
***
Lorenzo was quieterthan usual, which was a lot considering he didn’t speak much to begin with. He was picking at his fries, occasionally eating one, not joining in the usual lunchtime banter with Katrina, or even with Justin.
Katrina nudged him with her elbow. “Did I do something wrong?” She kept her voice low so that the others couldn’t hear her. He merely shook his head and kept picking at his fries. “You look like you lost your best friend. I’m still here, by the way. And so is Justin.”
One short nod was all his response was.
“Are you sure it isn’t me?” she asked, knowing how far they’d gone the night before. She’d wanted to continue, wanted his hands, his everything.
But he had stopped.
“Positive.”
“At least I got one word out of you. What...trouble in paradise?”
“You think it’s paradise there?” His eyes were hard for a moment, before softening as if Katrina’s presence alone was a comfort.
“I don’t know since Emily rarely speaks to me now and half the time you can’t have company over.”
“I like it at your house.”
“My house? Over that practical mansion you live in?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “It feels like a home.”
***
Once again, Katrinafound herself angry at a dead woman who wasn’t around for her to slap the ever loving shit out of. She was angry with herself for not listening every time that Lorenzo tried to make her see that his life was anything but happy.
Because he’d always said he was happy to be with her.
“I was happy with you, too,” she said to the boy in the prom picture with his head tilted to the side.
Had she been happy with Timothy? Or had he simply been someone safe, someone so unlike Lorenzo that there would never be any comparisons?
Except there had been. And Timothy had fallen short.
“Sorry, Timothy,” she whispered into her empty living room. She was sorry for wasting his time, time that could have been spent with someone who was completely present as she was realizing that she hadn’t been. Maybe she should send him a letter, or simply call him up to apologize, knowing that life was too short to leave things left unsaid.
A quick knock on her door had her intaking a shaky deep breath, then exhaling slowly.
“Calm, Trina. It’s just Ren.”
Just Ren.
At her door for their first date in 10 years.
No big deal.
