Will rubs the back of his neck. “When I saw your text, I thought it meant that you were ready to talk. You never responded to the flowers or returned any of my calls before so…”
Now I kind of feel like a bitch. “I wasn’t ready to talk then.”
“I deserve that after the way I ended things. I’m sorry, Mya. I think I just got scared. Marriage seems like such a big step.”
“It is a big step. Maybe it’s better that you called it off when you did.”
His eyes meet mine, searching. “But that’s just it. Things aren’t better. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime. Or drinks, if that’s your thing now. ”
My heart thumps and then starts racing. Just a few months ago, hearing that Will missed me would have been the highlight of my day. All I’d wanted was for him to say that leaving was a mistake and that all our years together meant more to him than just settling for what was comfortable. But now that the moment is here, I can’t dredge up anything other than emptiness.
“Will, I’m glad that you apologized. What you did hurt me and I think clearing the air is a good thing. I don’t want to look back on our time together with regret.”
“I don’t either! I just want things to go back to the way they used to be.” Will takes my hand and squeezes it. That used to be our thing, our secret signal to say we loved each other even when we were in a crowded room.
But now that gesture feels empty. Hollow, just like this conversation. It feels disloyal to be squeezing hands with him when I know that my heart isn’t in it.
“Things have been over between us for six months. That’s a long time. I’ve moved on. You should too.”
He looks like he wants to argue but then he slowly lets go of my hand. ”I guess I figured things out too late, huh?”
“Yeah, you did.” I can’t deny it feels good to get that little dig in. I’m only human, let me have that one. “We weren’t meant to be, Will. I deserve someone who wants the woman I am, not who he thinks I should be. And so do you. Go out there and find that for yourself. Everyone deserves that.”
We were together for a long time, so it feels strange to know this is likely the last time we’ll ever see each other. I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.
Then I go in my apartment to find my ice cream. And to figure out how to take my own advice.
21
Regret is a powerful drug.
Over the past two days I’ve played out every possi
ble scenario that could have occurred after Mya overheard me talking to Mr. Lavin.
I should have picked her up, thrown her over my shoulder and forced her to hear me out. I should have told Andre Lavin to back off my girl instead of being diplomatic about it. I should have told James that the client was expressing personal interest in Mya and let him handle it.
Should have done doesn’t change what happened though. All the should haves in the world won’t make her talk to me.
I’ve called her so many times that I’m pretty sure a restraining order is forthcoming.
When I stopped by her place, I could hear the TV on in the background but no one would answer. I knocked on the door until an older woman stuck her head out into the hallway and gave me the evil eye.
Sometimes you have to know when to admit defeat.
Now I’m here at work getting absolutely nothing done while my co-workers tiptoe around me. Yeah, I’m in a shitty mood. And I’m not even bothering to hide it.
We’re not going to get the account and I’ll be lucky to still have a job once James finds out why.
My phone rings and I wince when I see James’s name pop up. I’ve been avoiding him all day. Guilt will do that to you. But if this is it, then I might as well face the music with dignity.
“Hey, James.”
“If you’ve got a second, can you stop by my office?”
“Sure. I’ll come now.”
Walking down the hallway, I start noticing things I’ve never paid attention to before. The paint is fading slightly. I remember when the color was changed from white to something called ecru, whatever the fuck that is. The carpet is still the same though.