Finally getting the small roaster fixed well enough to work, I had to send two deliveries for every order. Half before noon, and the other half as soon as I got it done later in the afternoon. It cost me double in delivery fees, but at least I didn’t let my clients down.
I’d let myself down, though. Broken machines were the one thing that automatically pissed me off right to the edge of my control. Yet I was completely ashamed that I’d exploded. I should be better than that.
Knowing that I upset Valerie tore me apart. She likely saw me as a savage now, instead of someone she could trust. My guts were churning from stress, but I knew that going to her might make her feel cornered and uncomfortable. I was helpless.
I knew I was terrible at fixing machines, but I’d never needed to fix a relationship before. I’d never wanted to. This time, I knew that Valerie was the one. Losing her was simply not an option.
I’d have to be patient, and that was something I’d never been very good at either.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
* Valerie *
It was bad enough when normal-sized men yelled. But seeing Dave’s huge body so tense with rage, hearing him bellow like that... It was too much.
I was trying to believe that he wasn’t like that at all. I thought more of him. It was normal for me to second guess and not trust my instincts, but this time I was so sure that I’d been right about him.
Although he called me every hour for the rest of the day, I hit decline. Finally, around dinner time he sent a text.
Valerie – sweetheart, I’m so sorry if I scared you. I’ve only screamed like that two or three times in my entire life, and only at machinery. Please respond and let me know that you are home safe.
I was hurt, frustrated, and upset, but somehow I couldn’t let him worry even more than he already was, so I sent him a reply.
I’m at home. I am technically fine. Please give me some space for a few days.
He replied seconds later.
Okay, sweetheart. I would love to talk to you as soon as you’re ready.
I couldn’t get the image of those gorgeous, sexy eyes flashing with absolute rage out of my mind. I made myself some herbal tea and went to bed early, unable to stand being awake with my thoughts any longer.
The next day I finished up his website and loaded it, sending him an email that was nothing but professional. He responded in kind, delighted with the site, and let me know there would be additions to the sales page tomorrow.
For the next three days, we spoke only via email, and only about his website. I did all of his updates immediately, and I had to admit that his site was some of my absolute best work to date. He was obviously thrilled, but our excitement was ruined by the fact that we weren’t really talking.
I didn’t know what I could possibly say to Dave. I had trusted him with my heart, my body, my soul. For him to turn out to be something I hadn’t expected was so disappointing. It felt like part of me has been physically crushed. I didn’t want to believe that he had that sort of anger in him at all.
People certainly weren’t perfect, and it wasn’t my place to judge anybody. But I didn’t know if I could trust him completely if I knew that tiny spark was in there.
All of my self-help books said that we should ignore people’s words, and concentrate on how they treated us. Their actions speak the loudest. Dave had been nothing but gentle and kind and sweet with me. Now that I had cooled off and become more analytical again, I wondered whether it was time to speak with him in person, to try to hear his side.
After three days of only professional contact, and not leaving my home at all, I decided to send Dave a text.
Sitting by my tiny window, I stared out at the sky trying to think of what to say. I closed my eyes, picturing his handsome face, his sweet, kind eyes. I couldn’t envision him angry any more. Then all I could think of was the way he always reached out to hold me. His warm skin against mine. The way he made me feel so treasured.
There was a soft knock at the door, making me jump. Tiptoeing over, I saw through the peephole that it was Dave.
“Valerie, it’s me,” he said gently. “Can we talk?”
I didn’t know whether to be impressed that he came over, or whether this could be seen as aggressive. It didn’t feel like it. I honestly didn’t know what to say.
“May I speak to you for a moment through the door, then?” he asked.
He sounded so upset, so desperate. “Okay.”
“I only yell at machinery, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever yelled at a man, and I know I’ve never raised my voice to a woman.” I heard him pause. “Wait – I once called out to a woman to stop her because she was about to be hit by a kid on a bike. She seemed nervous, but she stopped just in time.”
I heard his hand tap against the door. “Valerie, I wish that I could see your eyes, so I could try to see what you’re thinking. Maybe you could open the door, but I promise I won’t come in?”