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I’ve had to buy new clothes and toiletries because I was too much of a coward to go back to the apartment and face her. I just needed time to figure stuff out, but it’s been weeks, and I still don’t have anything cleared up.
“I’m not in love with Clara,” Theo grumbles, grabbing the sticky menu and glaring at it like it’s wronged him.
“Right.”
I don’t believe him one bit. I’m good at reading people, and I can see the look in his eyes when he talks about her. He took a call from her last week, and I swear his whole face softened. Obviously, he loves her, but I guess he won’t admit that yet.
“Have you talked to your girl yet?” He asks, and I grab my own menu.
“No,” I grumble.
“Why don’t you just call her?” He suggests.
As if on cue, my phone rings, and I tense when I see Lottie’s name on the screen.
“That’s her, isn’t it,” Theo says, and I grit my teeth as I shove my phone back into my pocket.
I wonder why she’s reaching out now. What’s changed?
“Why don’t you answer it?”
“Not yet.”
He rolls his eyes, and I go back to ignoring him as I study the menu.
“When are you going to face her?” Theo snaps, and I grind my teeth together.
The truth is that I don’t know. I’m too guilty, too disgusted with myself to face her now. What kind of man sleeps with a girl and then ghosts her? An asshole, that’s who.
I’m caving, though.
I miss her. I miss her sense of humor and her smiles. I miss talking to her and hearing about her day.
Our waitress stops by, and we order the same thing that we’ve gotten every other time we come here. She just gives us a tired nod before she shuffles away, and I grab a napkin, shredding it as I wrestle with my thoughts.
I need to man up already and face the music. The longer that I wait, the worse it will be when I face her.
I’ve been ducking Rhett’s phone calls, too, and I know that he’s caught on that something isn’t right.
“I have work to do back at the office,” Theo says when I straighten in my seat.
It seems he’s better at reading people than I gave him credit for.
“You know if you wanted to go and fix things with your girl.”
“You’re just anxious to get back to your assistant,” I tell him, and he rolls his eyes.
My phone rings again, and this time I’m going to answer Lottie’s call.
Except it isn’t Lottie calling.
“Excuse me,” I say, sliding out of the booth as I hit answer.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Lark?”
“Yes?”
