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“And did you tell her how you feel about her?” Vivian asked.
Irritated, he crossed his arms. “What do you mean? We didn’t really talk…”
Annie nodded and threw her arm in the air. “Ahh, now it all makes sense. You slept with her, and you didn’t tell her you were hopelessly in love with her?”
“I don’t understand…” he began before Annie’s words registered. “You mean…” The roaring in his ears was back, and his heart was beating at an alarming rate. A firm band across his chest was tightening by the second, making breathing impossible. He jumped up, inhaled deeply. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t be in… What I mean is, we’ve basically just met. There is a connection, I’ll give you that, but it’s not as if I…” Inhaling deeply, he vehemently shook his head.
Vivian angled her head. “You notice how he struggles to say the L-word, Annie?”
Annie nodded. “I do. Strange that, don’t you think? He lights up when he sees her, he keeps kissing her and touching her, but they just have a… what’s the word he used?”
“Connection,” Vivian said, straight-faced. “Whatever could he mean by that? Maybe,” Vivian said, getting up, “you should go and reread your manuscript. Especially those parts describing Dorothy. Come on, Annie, he probably needs time to digest. He’s a man, after all, and it takes them a bit longer to connect the dots.”
Fed up, he stared at his sisters. “What freaking dots are you talking about?”
Annie got up and gave him a hug. “You’ll figure it out. The heart wants what the heart wants.”
Long after his sisters had left, he still stood at the window, looking outside. When he finally turned back, his eyes fell on the spot on his carpet where he and Riley had made love.
Closing his eyes, he could recall every moment he’d spent with her in his arms. The way she’d shuddered, the way she’d cried out his name, the way she’d brokenly sobbed when she’d reached a peak. And there had been several of those moments, he recalled.
Sighing, he headed for his room. He wasn’t hungry; he wasn’t going to sleep, so he might as well continue editing his story while he tried to figure out what this emptiness inside him meant.
Chapter Fifteen
Friday, two weekslater, Riley was in front of her laptop, rubbing her temple. The scratchy throat and headache she’d had when she and Dylan had arrived back from Marietta was back, worse than before. Her whole body ached.
She’d felt slightly better over the past weekend, but then she’d made the mistake of taking Dylan to the park. It started to rain while they were there. She’d taken off her jacket to protect Dylan with the result she’d been icy cold and wet by the time they’d made it back home.
Her whole body was shaking, and she probably had a fever, as well. At some point, she should go and see the doctor as none of the over-the-counter meds she’d tried so far were helping, but a doctor’s visit would have to wait for next week. She had way too much to do.
Her main concern at the moment was Dylan. He’d stopped crying when she dropped him off at school in the morning, and he didn’t even complain about the school anymore, but he was clearly unhappy. The dejected little figure she picked up after school every day was breaking her heart. Even at home, he was listless. Her happy, laughing son had disappeared. She’d really hoped by now he would’ve made friends, but whatever the problem was, it wasn’t going to go away miraculously; she’d have to go and talk to the teacher at some point.
She’d been so busy since their return and would probably have to work straight through the weekend to finish editing the pictures from this week’s photo shoots.
Ugh, if this blasted headache would just disappear, she might be able to concentrate on her work. With a sigh, she took two more Tylenols and opened her emails. The tablets would hopefully ease her painful throat and help to bring down her fever.
She wasn’t looking forward to today’s photo shoot. Apart from the fact that the magazine wanted the shoot on Alberta Street, a busy part in the Arts District of the city, which meant there would be lots of people, it was also bitterly cold. The weather prediction was snow—usually a wonderful backdrop for a photo shoot but not when she was feeling so lousy.
Her eyes scanned her emails. Two emails were from magazines asking her to do photo shoots for their Valentine’s Day edition. It wasn’t even Christmas yet, for goodness’ sake. She needed to stay busy, though, and responded quickly.
Clearing her sore throat, she opened the next email. And froze. It was from Mitch.
Dear Riley,
You left without saying goodbye. I’m trying to figure out why. I’m also trying to figure out why I can’t forget a single moment of the night we spent together, why you’re on my mind every waking moment, and that when I fall asleep, there you are, as well.
I assume you disappearing like that means you don’t want to talk to or see me again. I have one request, though: please read my manuscript?
Waiting for you,
Mitch
By the time she’d finished reading the short note, there was a lump in her throat the size of a golf ball.
Dropping her aching head in her hands, she closed her eyes. She missed Mitch with every cell in her body.It will be better after a week,she’d tried to console herself with during those first two long nights, but after fourteen days and fourteen nights, he was still taking center stage in her mind. She had to accept it now; loving Mitch wasn’t going to change. Ever.
Okay, she would read his story. Maybe once she’d done that, it would be easier to live with this constant emptiness inside her.
