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“It was awful.”
“That’s why he’s nursing a black eye today.”
“You hit him?” She tilts her head, horror written on her face.
“Fuck yeah, I did.”
“Well, that’s not good.”
“I didn’t like hearing you cry.”
“Did he tell you everything he said?”
“I guess.”
“He was so vile and nasty. It wasn’t my brother. That was a man I don’t know.”
Time to get this show on the road.
I lift her arm and roll out of bed, immediately missing the warmth of her body.
“I’m going to make coffee. Meet me in the kitchen.” I avoid eye contact. This is going to be hard enough without seeing the evidence of what her brother has already started.
Ten minutes later, she joins me in the kitchen, her face freshly washed and hair in a high ponytail. She’s wearing one of my old college shirts that hangs on her. Usually, she’d be completely naked underneath, but today, she’s slid on a pair of pajama pants.
I fix her coffee and hand her the mug then walk to the other side of the kitchen. I prop my hip against the counter and start with the obvious question. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. I needed to process how I felt about it and truly think. After a few days, I realized the level of excitement I should have felt was not there. That’s when I knew it was no longer what I really wanted.”
“Why?”
“If Logan told you everything, then you know it’s because my life has changed. I like being here in Miami. I love my job, my friends, you… things I didn’t know when I moved here. If I would have had any idea of the roots I would build, I would have either not applied, or waited a year.”
“That’s fair, but you did apply, and you need to go.”
“I don’t want to leave. I’ve moved on. It’s no longer on the table.”
“Can it be?”
“Why? Are you saying you want me to go?”
“Yes, I want you to go. I think it will be a good business decision for you.”
She studies me for a second, her eyes roaming over my face. I remain still, hoping she can’t see through the laid-back façade.
“Business decision? What about us? Won’t you miss me?”
Here we go.
“Sure, I’ll miss you, but we can meet up when you get back. Then see what happens then.”
“Meet up? See what happens?”
“Sure. If we’re both still single, we can see where this thing goes.”
She stumbles, and it takes all my willpower not to reach out to her.
“This thing goes?”
