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It wasn’t my place to make it for her. I see that now. I understand where I fucked up. That I fucked up. The problem is I don’t know how to fix it. I was hoping to get to see her while she was home for spring break, but that’s not happening.
Part of me is tempted to cancel my schedule and go to her, but I know school has been tough for her this last semester, and a lot of that is the pressure and the sadness of what’s going on between us. So I don’t doubt for a minute that she truly will spend the week studying. That’s the only thing that’s keeping me from going to her.
Me: Have a good day, baby girl. I miss you.
I don’t know what else to say. I created this mess. I didn’t fight for us, because I was too busy fighting for her. It was a fight that wasn’t mine to take on, and now I need to figure out how to fix it.
She graduates in seven weeks. Seven more weeks until I can see her again. Seven weeks to figure out how I’m going to fix this. If I’ve learned anything during the last few months, it’s that I can’t go on without her being mine.
Four hours later, I’m walking my client to the front desk. I smile at Lyra, and she nods, going into aftercare instructions and processing his payment. I turn to head to the break room and knock a pile of papers off the desk. When I bend to pick them up, I see a drawing that I know instantly is Emerson’s. It’s a moon and star design, and I’m immediately taken back to the night I held her under the stars. I can’t help but wonder if that’s what she was thinking of when she drew this.
I run my fingers over the design, and an idea hits me. Instead of going to the break room, I stop outside of Legend’s door, knocking lightly on the frame.
“What’s up?” He looks up from the design he’s working on.
“What’s on the books for you the rest of the day?”
“My last client canceled. His wife went into labor, so I’m just working on a design for next week unless we get a walk-in. You need something?”
“I do, actually. Some ink therapy.”
“I’m in. Do you know what you want?”
“Yeah. Let me get it on some transfer paper and I’ll be right back. Black and gray,” I tell him, turning to stride down the hall with Emerson’s sketch in my hand.
I’m aware that this is crazy, but I know this is her work, and right now, this is what I need. I need to feel as though I have a piece of her with me always. I’ve already made up my mind that I’m going to fight for us. I’ll fight for her, and she can tap me in when she needs me.
I was trying to protect her.
I realize now, she didn’t need me to protect her. All she needed was me to love her. I should have told her. Just another regret that I have where she’s concerned.
She’s trying to keep her distance, hoping that with time, we can both move on. I don’t want to move on, and I can almost guarantee she doesn’t want to move on either. She’s doing what she thinks she has to do. I did what I thought I had to do, and we are both wrong.
We belong together.
I spend the next thirty minutes tracing every line of her drawing onto transfer paper. As soon as I’m done, I rush to Legend’s office where he’s still working on his piece for next week.
“Ready?” he asks.
“I’m ready.” Reaching behind my head, I grab the neck of my T-shirt and pull it over my head, tossing it onto his desk. “Here.” I hand him the drawing. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t say a word about the design or why I’m getting a moon and stars tattooed on my chest. “Right here.” I pat a blank area of skin over my heart.
“You sure?” he asks.
“I’m sure.”
He nods. Once he has it placed, and I approve, he gets to work. We’re quiet for several minutes, as I close my eyes and let him do his thing. “You good?” he asks.
I chuckle, peeling my eyes open to look at him. “Not my first time, man,” I reply.
“Yeah, it kind of is. Does he know?”
“Does who know what? You lost me, man. I was zoned out.” I must have missed something he said.
“Does Forrest know you’re in love with her?”
My body instantly tenses. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Rome. This is Emerson’s drawing. I saw her working on it.”
