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“Yes.” I wrap the white cotton around my fist.
“What’re you waiting for, then?”
Chapter 28
Ava
Lacie stumbles in from work. I’ve managed to make dinner rather than driving myself insane reading all the notes Damon’s sent me in the last week. Yesterday, he told me about his day—it was just another way of telling me he misses me.
I miss him too. The heat of his body at night and his smiles as we ate dinner together. Even the subconscious way he brushed my hair when I rested my head on his lap while we were both working on his couch. We had a routine with quirks and intimate nuances that made it us. Without it I’m off-kilter and amiss.
Without Damon everything hurts so damn much that I can’t catch my breath. The unbearable longing in my chest grows by the second. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m still surviving.
Yet, every time I think I’ve made sense of everything—that it’s not that bad—I remember that he had so many chances to tell me what he was doing. Still, he chose not to. Damon chose to lie to me, and then he was too much of a coward to face up to the consequences.
“This is crazy. My apartment is becoming a shrine to you.” Lacie drops another hatbox of bloodred, velvety roses on the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry.” I grimace, plucking the small envelope slotted in the arrangement.
“Are you going to forgive him yet?”
“It’s not about forgiveness.” I begin to pocket the card, but she grabs it off me, and before I can get it back, she’s opened it.
“He found your favorite nail polish.” She throws the card at me as she heads toward her room.
“So what?” My yell reverberates throughout the apartment.
“Many women have taken back bigger, badder bastards for a lot less.” Tears fill her eyes. “Do you even realize how lucky you are?”
“Don’t you hate him?”
“I do! I hate him and I want to hurt him for all the shit he did.” Lacie takes a long breath. Spreading her arms out, she spins on the spot. “But, look around you. All of this is for you.”
Of course, I can’t hold up the floodgates while I spin on the spot, taking in all the roses.
Red, like your lips after my kiss.
Warm peach, like your skin after I’ve loved you.
Dusty pink, like the flush that stains your cheeks when I talk dirty to you.
White, like your soul—too good, too honest, too perfect.
At this point I’m not sure if some of it is hormones or if I’m just that pitiful because I can’t contain my tears. Last time I walked away from him, I forgave him without trepidation. I let him back in and gave him everything. This time, I’m scared to let him back in and give him my forgiveness. My heart hurts without him and it aches at the prospect of the agony he could cause me again. Regardless, whichever decision I make, there’s pain. The main question is whether I can trust him again.
“You have a man that’s desperately fighting for you, Ava,” Lacie says with a deep, tortured sigh. “Don’t be too proud to concede.” Lacie disappears into her room, leaving me in the silent aftermath of her statement.
Am I being too proud? The question whirs around my head while I go through Damon’s notes and wait for Lacie to emerge again. When she doesn’t, I go to her. When I find her curled up on her bed with her phone held tight to her chest, I sit beside her.
“Look at the two of us,” she sobs. “I’m pining after a man I can’t have, and you’re pushing the one that cares away.”
When she puts it like that, it sounds tragic.
“Do you love Callum?” I hug her tightly to me, holding her the same way she’s held me so many times.
“God, Ava…” Her golden eyes hold mine. “I’m here, but my heart feels like it’s all the way across the country beating in someone else’s chest. Giving my love to another woman.”
“Lace…”
