Abandoning my half-finished drink, I undress and get into bed. In the silence of the apartment, I realize I never brought Rachel here after our first night together. It makes her absence from my life seem so much more final.
Leaving my bed, I walk over to the guest room where I first spent the night with her.
Memories of mind-blowing sex mingle with the lingering pain of her rejection, and I curse under my breath.
You can’t give me what I want.
I can give her pleasure, but obviously that’s not enough.
I can treat her with all the care and respect she deserves. I can put a fucking smile on her face every single day.
But all that won’t matter if she’s still in love with Weyland.
I stretch out across the bed, aching to make the memories real. It’s one thing if she’s in love with him, but if there’s any chance that she isn’t, well…I’ve never been a man who gives up easily. I want her, and I’m going to make her see I’m the one she wants to be with.
By the next morning, most of my confidence has evaporated. Joe drives me over to Rachel’s apartment. I wait in the car for her, counting the minutes till she emerges on her way to work.
I should go up, steal a few minutes with her in the privacy of her apartment, and apologize for my abruptness yesterday
Will she listen?
Will she want to listen?
I’ve never been so unsure of myself in my life.
I wait for almost half an hour before I see her come down the front steps.
She looks unhappy.
And I know it’s my fault.
Yesterday, I was too harsh, too abrupt, too impatient. I knew even before I first approached her with my proposition that she had an emotional connection to Weyland, yet I berated her for it as if I had an exclusive right to her emotions.
She reaches the sidewalk and stops when she sees my car. At the same time, I open the door and step out into the morning sun, watching as an array of emotions crosses her face.
Let’s forget about yesterday evening.
Let’s start all over again.
I take a step toward her. “Hello.”
At first, she doesn’t respond. Her eyes rake over me, and the raw emotions that were evident on her face before she saw me retreat behind an expressionless mask. “What are you doing here?” she asks in a level voice.
“I wanted to talk.”
She shakes her head, dismissive. “I’m late for work.”
That works for me. “I’ll take you to your office. We can talk in the car.”
She gives me a look like that’s the last thing she would ever consider. “No. Thanks.”
I only want to talk, to apologize. Surely she can give me that. “Rachel, why are you making this so hard?”
Something in my voice gets to her. With a resigned shrug, she walks past me and slides into the car.
I join her inside, and Joe drives toward her office. Her body is stiff and turned away from mine, as if she can’t even stand to look at me.
“You’re still going out with Weyland tonight?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I sound jealous and resentful. Not exactly the right opening for the apology she deserves.