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I ignore the part of me thatwantsto see Tristan again. The part of me that wants to tell him exactly what I think of him, to hurl every hurt I ever felt into his face, to unload some of the pain I’ve carried with me all these years and maybe crack that impenetrableexterior.
“Did you hear me?”
“What?”
“I said...do you want to come over and talk about it after work?”
“Not really.” I sigh. Marie and Spence are married now, and after trying hard for a long time, they finally have a baby on the way. I love to visit their home. It’s bright and warm and full of love, but today, I’d rather have solitude so I can try to unpack my chaotic feelings.
“Have you even told Matt about him?”
I’d completely forgotten about Matt. Because of Tristan. That alone is enough to fill me with a deep sense of guilt.
You don’t deserve him.
He deserves more.
I shut down the voice in my head. “I haven’t told him,” I tell Marie. “I will. When we decide to get more serious.”
“Whenyoudecide to get more serious, you mean. Matt is ready to have your children right this minute if you let him.”
I chuckle for the first time since seeing Tristan, and suddenly I feel lucky to have Marie in my life.
“I hope you’re right and I won’t see him again.”
“Matt?”
“No! Tristan.”
“I know.” She laughs. “I was teasing.” She blows me a kiss over the phone.
After the call, I swivel my chair to face the window. Outside, the sky is overcast, as if Tristan’s reappearance has affected even the weather.
Why? Why? Why did he have to come here? I’d convinced myself I no longer had any feelings for him. My reaction to him is a slap in the face of the indifference I’m supposed to feel.
My phone rings, and at first, I ignore it, my mind still on Tristan. After a few rings, I reach for the device and, seeing Matt’s name on the screen, I force myself to smile and accept the video-call option.
His face fills my screen. Handsome and endearing. “Did you get your flowers?” he says warmly. He has a nice, boyish voice. It’s placid and safe, like a helpful boy scout. Unlike Tristan’s deep, husky rumble that penetrates my skin and makes me tremble all the way down to my toes.
Keeping my smile on, I point the phone toward the arrangement of white roses on my desk. Matt likes to send me flowers, little gifts, simple things to remind me he’s thinking of me.
I really don’t deserve him.
“I got them. Thank you so much.”
“Well, you needed a pick-me-up since you said you weren’t feeling well yesterday,” he says.
“Consider me picked up. They are lovely.”
He laughs. “Not as lovely as you.”
“You are sweet.”
“You deserve sweet. You didn’t say how your meeting with Peter went.”
“It didn’t. We had to postpone.”
“Aww. So still no word on your new exhibition...” There’s a pause. “How about we go out to dinner tonight and I’ll try to make you feel better?”
