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He’s invested? Jesus, I’ve been waiting seven years for this moment.
Standing on the sidewalk, I felt sick to my stomach. I was nervous as hell for what might be waiting for me when I opened the text message.
“Read it already!” Greg shouted.
I shushed him before pressing on the screen, and her words popped up.
Eve: What do you want from me, Tyson?
“I… I have to go,” I stuttered.
Greg started whining in the background behind me. I only heard bits and pieces of whatever he was saying. My mind was too caught up in Eve and what my next move should be.
This was a good thing… an opening… an olive branch… asomething. I’d take any scrap of time she was willing to give me.
I sprinted to my car and threw open the door, wanting the quiet to respond to her without an audience. Pressing my back into the leather seat, I kicked one foot up onto the dash.
Without overthinking it, I sent a message back.
Me: I want to apologize. And make things right. I miss the hell out of you, Eve. I always have. Please let me come over and talk to you.
The three dots began dancing instantly, and I knew she was typing out a response.
They stopped just as quickly before beginning again. My breath synched with her hesitation, holding and releasing each time the dots disappeared before coming back.
They stopped once more, and I held my breath, waiting.
I wondered what I could type to make her give me a chance. The dots reappeared again, and I blew out a long breath. It was absolute torture, waiting for what she might say.
Eve: I want closure.
My heart was no longer beating. Who knew that three words could be so devastating? The last damn thing I wanted with Eve was closure, but if that was the only way she would talk to me, so be it. I’d lie my ass off to get her address and then beg for her forgiveness on my knees if I had to. I was not leaving for London without knowing that Eve was mine.
Me: Let me give it to you. What’s your address?
CLOSURE FOR ONE, PLEASE
EVE
As I stared at my phone, my hand started sweating from gripping it so tightly. I kept rereading our messages to each other, my head shaking the entire time, before I looked down at the costume I still wore.
Throwing off the too-short skirt, I slid into some sweatpants instead. The rest of my outfit covered plenty and didn’t leave me feeling exposed the way the skirt had, and I wanted to be comfortable.
I couldn’t believe I had told Tyson that he could come over to my house, and now, he was on his way here. I began pacing back and forth, fighting the urge to throw up in my kitchen sink.
Closure. I’d told him I wanted freaking closure. What in the actual hell was I going to do once he gave it to me? Move on and pretend like seeing his face on billboards didn’t affect me? Like I wasn’t the one he used to stay in bed with all weekend long, eating popcorn and watching old movies? Like I could just… pretend we had never happened?
Pieces of popcornflew through the air, hitting me in the back of the head. I turned around to see Tyson watching me instead of the movie he’d put on.
“Do you need something?” I asked with a sly grin as I bent down, reached for the stray pieces, and popped them into my mouth.
I’d only agreed to him coming over if he let me work on my paper. It was due in two days, and I wasn’t even halfway done yet.
“I always need something when you’re around.” He gave me that wicked grin that he’d perfected, his brown eyes sparkling.
We never seemed to get enough of each other. Almost three years later, and our appetites were still unquenchable. I wasn’t sure if that was normal or not since I’d never been in a relationship this long before, but I wasn’t complaining.
“Babe, I have to finish this,” I complained. I didn’t want to be writing this stupid paper on communication missteps and lies from World War II either, but if I wanted to pass the class, I needed to.
