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“Come on, Clay. You had to call her Phe and suggest she stay here with you? And mention New York?” Madeline furrowed her brow.
“I always called her Phe,” I mumbled.
“Before you broke up with her.”
“It’s been ten years,” I started, only to have Madeline point a finger at me, her eyebrows raised and her eyes almost bugging from her head.
“Exactly, it’s been ten years, Clayton. Meaning you have agedten years,so maybe—just maybe—act like it. I get you don't want her to know what's going on in your life, but that doesn't mean you need to act like everything is peachy keen and perfect when it's not. Ophelia is a lot more understanding than you think, and she has a lot on her plate right now so stop being a jerk.” Madeline never put down her finger.
I looked over at Milo. He simply raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and looked down at his plate.
After a few moments of silence, I looked over my shoulder, seeing Ophelia’s dark hair in front of the window. Her glass of wine sat on the table next to her half-eaten meal. Following my gut, I stood, grabbed her wine glass, and walked toward the door.
“Just be nice,” Madeline whispered as I placed my hand on the doorknob.
Ophelia turned her head to the sound of the door opening, but the second she saw it was me, she scoffed and turned away.
I approached with caution, holding her glass with my fingertips, extending it out to her. “I think we need to start over,” I mumbled, waiting for her to respond before taking a seat next to her on the bench. Her dark eyes met mine again, and she gently took the glass from me, instantly taking a gulp. I sat down on the bench, as far from her as possible.
“I’m sorry,” I said softly, not exactly sure what to say.I’m sorrywas the only thing that came to mind.
She shook her head and lowered her glass. “For what? Being an asshole ten years ago or dinner just now?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Um, for dinner?”
Once again, she glared at me.
“What do you want me to say, Phe. . . Ophelia?” I corrected myself.
“I don't even know,” she said, “I was hoping this would be easy.”
I sighed. “What? Seeing your ex after over a decade isn’t easy?” After the words slipped from my mouth, I knew adding sarcasm to the mix wasn’t the most brilliant move.
“Clayton. . .” Her Southern drawl appeared as she said my full name, drawing it out with a sigh. I hadn’t forgotten that accent, the way she said certain words, especially “Clayton.” It always knew how to make my heart skip a beat.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“You keep saying that, but I’m pretty sure you have no idea why you’re sorry.” Ophelia glanced slightly toward me. My body was turned toward her, relaxed as possible, hoping it would help ease her tension.
I shrugged, reaching up to rub my neck, feeling that knot that still lingered there. “You’re right. I don't know what to apologize for. Madeline told me to stop being a jerk.”
She shook her head. “You weren’t being a jerk. You were just trying.” She set her wine glass on the bench next to her, shoving her free hands in between her legs, her shoulders slouched as she turned to look at me. “I’m sorry for getting mad and storming out. I just wasn’t expecting this.”
“You knew I would be here, right?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I knew you would be here, too. I’ll admit I didn't think it would be for the entire summer so that was a shock, but maybe if we just started over?” I asked sheepishly.
Once again, her eyes met mine, and I felt chills. It was like I was back to that day in college, that first time meeting Ophelia and having that instant attraction. Her hair was wild back then, with curls that could not be contained, eyes that were adventurous. You could feel her sparky personality just being in the same room. But with all of that, it was her smile that made me fall in love with her. It would radiate through the room and take anyone's bad day and make it better. Her smile led to sweet touches and kisses and filled my heart with more joy and love than anything else. Seeing her now, her hair attempting to be straight, even though it was trying to be wild, her eyes full of doubt and her mind racing a million miles an hour, I wanted to know what was going through her mind.
I wanted to see her smile again.
She heaved a sigh and looked out toward the street. “You know we have to plan a party together?”
“I heard about that.” I smiled.
“I already have a lot going on.”
