And that’s when I see him.
How I walked in without sensing him, without feeling those brazen eyes on me, I don’t understand. I could blame it on the afternoon I’ve had, I suppose, but even that shouldn’t have kept me from noticing my ex sitting in the same chair he used to, right across the circle from me.
Smiling.
Smiling, as if he never left.
Smiling, as if he didn’t leave me with nothing but a note to explain.
Smiling, his eyes heated, ankle crossed over his knee and leather-jacket-clad arms folded across his chest like he owns the place.
Like he still owns me.
Gavin’s sky blue eyes watch me unabashedly as I gape back at him, and it’s only when Jackie says my name that I snap out of what I convince myself must be a daydream.
“How are you this evening?” she asks.
“I…” I swallow. “I’m fine.”
Jackie gives me a sympathetic smile. “Do you want to talk about what happened today? I believe you told us last week that you were meeting with the lawyers and detectives. How did it go?”
I open my mouth to answer, to do what I came here to do, but then my eyes snap back to Gavin, and I have to zip my lips closed again to keep them from trembling.
He’s not smiling anymore.
I want to scream at him. I want to demand answers. I want to punch him in his stupid face and throw him out of my safe place and tell him to never come back.
I want to ask him why he left.
I want to tell him his letter wasn’t enough.
I want to make him feel the way he broke me.
But more than anything, I want to get far, far away from him.
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head and immediately reaching down for my purse. I don’t offer any other explanation before I’m heading for the door, and I don’t take my next breath until I’m through it.
I know Jackie will tell the room that it’s okay, that I’ll be alright, that she’ll check in on me — and she will. I know I’ll have a call from her likely as soon as session is over. She’ll move on and ask someone else to share because that’s what has to be done.
She won’t press me to stay.
That’s what I love about her.
The rain has mostly stopped when I push out into the evening air, warm and humid, the sky quickly fading from gray to deep navy as night settles in. I fumble in my purse for my keys, the familiar beep beep of my car unlocking hitting my ears right before an even more familiar voice calls my name.
“Erin,” Gavin repeats when I don’t stop, and his footsteps splash through the puddles behind me as he jogs to catch up. “Hey, please, wait.”
“You don’t get to ask a damn thing of me,” I say, whirling on him. I point my finger right in his face — his face that is far too close for my taste. “You don’t get to show back up here, in my space, in my life. I don’t know why you’re here, why you’re back, and I don’t want to know. Okay? So just fuck off.”
The words shock me more than him when they roll off my tongue with ease, but I hold my chin high as I turn on my heels and set for my car again.
“I’m sorry.”
I stop at the sound of those words, but I don’t turn. I just stand there with my hand on the smooth metal handle of my car door, waiting.
“I’m sorry I left like that. I’m sorry I did that to you. I’m sorry for…” He sighs. “For everything.”
Tears burn my eyes.
“I can explain, if you’ll give me the chance.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Please,” he begs, and I feel his hand warm on my shoulder before I shrug it off.
I turn on him then. “How dare you,” I spit.
“Don’t be like this. I care about you, Erin. I know you still care about me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
Even as I say the words, they burn as only lies do. I do care about him. I do want him to be okay.
But I also want him to leave me the hell alone.
“I know I hurt you, but if you just give me another chance—”
“No,” I say, more firmly than the last time. “I’m sorry, Gavin, but I’ve moved on and you should, too.”
I open my car door, slipping inside and slamming the door shut. Gavin stands there dumbfounded for a moment, the drizzle soaking his shirt and jacket before he taps on my window.
I grit my teeth but roll it down just an inch.
“Moved on, huh?” he asks, hurt evident in his voice. “It’s Bear, isn’t it?”
I don’t answer.
Which is answer enough.
He laughs. “Well, that was fast.”
“Goodbye, Gavin.”