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It’s not lost on me that this entire situation is a cluster of misunderstandings, enflamed by hurt feelings, and incinerated by heartbreak. I want to believe that if we just talk, Derek and I can clear the air and get our relationship back on track.
But each time I pick up the phone to call him, I remember the haunted look in his eye when he said he needed time to think, and I can’t do it. I need to respect what he wants. Calling will only assuage my guilt while robbing him of the time he requested to process what happened. It took me months to overcome the loss of our baby. I can’t expect him to deal with it in one day.
So, here I am, wallowing on my couch as I struggle to give Derek the space he deserves. I’ve already watched two comedies to try and distract myself with no success. Maybe taking a bath while reading the latest fantasy novel I downloaded on my eReader will help.
I roll myself off the couch and go to the bathroom. I turn on the water to fill the garden tub and pour a cap full of bubbles under the stream, pulling off the oversized t-shirt and leggings I’ve been wearing for over twenty-four hours and tossing them in the hamper.
I’m walking into my bedroom to get my eReader when I hear loud banging coming from the front door. My heart leaps into my throat. Thinking it could be an intruder trying to break in while I’m supposed to be at work, I frantically look around forsomething to defend myself with when I hear, “Olivia. Are you there? It’s me.”
Derek.
“Just a minute,” I shout. Now, I search for something to cover up my half-naked body. My cotton robe hangs over my desk chair. I grab it and throw it on, tying the belt tight as I rush to the front door.
I fling it open and release the breath I’d been holding when I see Derek standing there, wearing a backward baseball cap and the athletic wear that’s been his signature look since he’s come back into town.
“Hi,” I pant. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, making me feel antsy. I can’t believe he’s here. I didn’t expect to hear from him this soon, if ever.
“Hi,” he replies, jutting his chin towards my apartment. “Can I come in?”
“Oh. Of course.” I quickly step back.
Derek’s demeanor is subdued as he walks inside, but he doesn’t seem as forlorn as when he left yesterday. Or perhaps that’s just wishful thinking.
I close the door and turn the lock, then move into the kitchen just off the main entryway. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’m fine.” He tilts his head to the side. “Is that water running?”
“Oh, shit.” I rush to the bathroom and quickly shut off the water. The water line is just two inches below the top of the tub. If I’d waited any longer, I’d be composing an apologetic email to my landlord within the hour.
“That was close.” I leap away from the tub and spin around. Derek stands in the doorway with his arms tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He’s so handsome, it hurts. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your bath,” he adds.
“Th-that’s okay,” I choke out, then clear my throat. “I’m glad you came by.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I press my lips together. “I wanted to apologize for…everything. I should’ve told you about the baby. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
He stares at me silently. I can sense the thoughts swirling in his head. “Avery said you came to see me in LA.”
I rear back in surprise. “How did she know?”
“Bridgette.”
Of course. I’d forgotten that there had been a witness to my mortification that day. My cheeks heat with embarrassment, but I force myself to meet his eye when I confirm, “Yes, I went to LA.”
“To talk to me?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t… Talk to me, I mean.”
I sigh. “No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
God, this is mortifying.
“Because I went to your office building and saw you with another woman. I know, now, that you didn’t remember our time together in St. Kitts. But at that time, I thought what happened between us meant so little to you that I was horrified. I left before you could see me. I thought I was saving myself from even more embarrassment.”
