But I was a coward. The very idea that if I’d told her how I felt, and she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, I would be gone and I couldn’t have done anything to try and make things right. The time would pass, distance would make that absence even worse, and things would be so much worse than I could ever imagine.
That’s what had gone through my mind as I kept my fucking mouth shut while in her presence, and had said nothing in the sparse letters we’d shared.
But I was back now, having come home a little earlier than projected, and all I wanted to do was surprise the only woman who had ever meant anything to me.
I pulled the SUV next to the curb in front of Lia’s one bedroom duplex. The house was old, with white siding, black decorative shutters on either side of the windows, and a seventies aesthetic feel inside.
I sat there for several minutes, just staring at the front door, wondering if I should have called her and let her know of my arrival. That would have been the right thing to do, but I’d been so damn excited.
I didn’t want to shock Lia, didn’t want to just show up unannounced like an asshole, but I’d been unable to stop myself from just coming straight here, anticipating this reunion for so long that all I’d wanted to do was act.
Lia was my life. My everything. She wasn’t just my best friend, but also my family. With parents that couldn’t care less about me because I hadn’t wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps, parents that had cut me off when I’d told them of my medical aspirations, Lia had been the only one to stick by me through it all.
I exhaled, my heart racing, my chest tight, and my stomach in knots.
Running a hand over my mouth, I felt the day-old scruff make an appearance on my cheeks and jaw. I should have shaved. I should have changed out of the clothes I’d worn on that long ass flight across the ocean.
Go in there. See her. Talk to her. Hold her and tell Lia how much you love her.
I forced myself out of the vehicle and headed to the front door. The sun was just starting to set, my flight having come in just a couple of hours ago. I’d gotten my bags and headed straight to Lia’s, not stopping anywhere because the only important thing to me was her.
Always her.
Once on the front porch I just stood there and stared at the door, hearing muffled sound on the other side. Her neighbor wasn’t home, which I was thankful for, because I wanted this moment just for us, without any background noise from someone on the other side of the wall.
I wanted this to be about her and me.
In my head I’d thought about this moment for so long that now that I finally stood here, I was scared shitless. My pulse was racing, my throat was tight and dry. I felt dizzy, my face flushed, my breathing coming out in rapid pants.
I braced a hand on the door jam and closed my eyes for a minute, exhaling slowly, trying to gather my thoughts and just focus. This shouldn’t have been as nerve wracking as it was, but when you were about to reunite with the one person who meant everything to you, when you were finally going to admit your feelings, things went upside down in your head and body.
Before I could stop myself, I brought my knuckles up and rapped three times on the door. And then I took a step back, my heart in my throat, sweat starting to form on my forehead. Only seconds had passed, but it felt like a lifetime as I waited there for her to open the door. Then I heard the lock disengage. The door swung open. And my breath caught as the world faded and I stared at Lia.
Her eyes widened as she took me in, and I let myself have the luxury of looking at her, starting with the top of her head and traveling down to the tips of her toes.
The long dark strands of her hair were piled high in a messy bun on the top of her head, pieces falling from the knot and framing her face. Her eyes seemed so big, like large saucers—a deer caught in headlights. I noticed the dark circles under them, as if she hadn’t been getting sleep. I frowned, the part of me that worried about her and wanted to take care of Lia rising up viciously.
She had a small blue towel draped over her shoulder, or maybe it was a blanket. It was tiny, but looked soft, like fleece, not terrycloth. The white T-shirt she wore looked like she’d spilled water all down the front, damp spots showing tiny bits of her peachy flesh underneath. I kept looking her over, not sexually—although she was by far the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen—but because a part of me wanted to make sure she was whole, that these last several months hadn’t taken anything away from her.