Sax had dropped me off at home last night, and I'd been surprised when all he did was kiss my hand after walking me to my door. I watched him from my peephole as long as I could, but he never turned back. I should've been happy. I didn't need another man in my life to complicate things further, but I couldn't deny his sex appeal or the way I responded to him.
Now, in the light of day, self-doubt crept up, and I kept falling into the trap of believing I was crazy for even entertaining the idea. I was meek Loren, mousy Loren. Only ever been with one man Loren. I had nothing to offer these men, and once they found out I wasn't as exciting as I pretended, I'd be dropped to the curb faster than you could say "bye".
Sighing for the third time, I'd officially annoyed myself. Staring at my computer, I realized the one good thing about the day had been my mother not calling. The daughter, who always atoned and kowtowed to her mother, struggled not to pick up the phone and apologize profusely. The anxiety rode me hard all day, but then I would remember her smug smile and satisfaction at seeing me caught off guard by his presence, and I'd shut my anxiety down.
How could she invite my ex-husband, the man who'd cheated and abandoned me while I grieved in a pit of depression? And while wearing a smile? She acted like she had done me a fucking favor! The more I thought about it, the more self-righteous strength rose up in me. I was angry, and I liked it.
This time, she would need to apologize to me. I was done letting her control me with her manipulation and lies. It was sad it took me thirty-odd years to get to this point, but I was here. That had to count for something.
"Loren, I'm heading out. Do you need anything before I go?"
Glancing up, I found Doris in my doorway. Was it already after 6 pm? Blinking, I shook my head. "I'm good, Doris. Thank you, though."
"Okay, Daphne's already gone, so you're the last one. Don't stay too late. You look tired, dear."
"Yeah, I'm almost done. I'll see you tomorrow."
She waved and walked out, a look of concern on her face. A little too late to be concerned now, Doris. Though at that thought, a realization hit me. My mask wasn't on. I'd worn the metaphorical mask hiding my pain for the better part of two years. No one outside my condo had known the absolute despair I'd felt. If Doris thought I looked tired now, I must not be shielding my emotions anymore.
Was this a good thing or a bad thing? I couldn't decide.
Checking the screen, I realized I zoned out halfway through my last client's note. Finishing up the last bit, I locked my charts and signed out of everything before gathering my belongings. Quickly, I closed up and turned off all the lights as I headed to the door. Pulling out my keys, I felt something flutter to the ground as I locked the door. Reaching down, I picked up the card. It was a business card. Ignite Ink, Nicco's shop.
An idea struck me at the sight, and I hoped it would be a good one. Things had been weird since Friday, and while we'd texted off and on, it hadn't felt like it had before that night. While I couldn't do anything about the confidentiality thing and his trust on the concept, I could be vulnerable and reach out to him this time. He'd chased me down the first time, so now, it was my turn.
Fortunately, his shop was close to where I lived. He'd mentioned it that evening when we ended up at his place. Cutting over two blocks I didn't usually go down, I took in a part of the city that was new to me. I'd probably driven down this way before, but I hadn't stopped to see what was around me. Sometimes, life went by so fast you forgot you were meant to live it. Ferris Bueller and John Lennon both had it right. "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans."
Before I made it to his shop, I spotted it from the other side of the street. A fire symbol in Neon with graffiti lettering of Ignite Ink was on the front of the window. Looking both ways, I crossed the road and headed to the door, pushing down my anxiety at entering a new place. The bell jangled, and the sounds of heavy rock music greeted me. An older woman with purple hair, several piercings, and dark lipstick looked up at my entrance.
"Welcome to Ignite Ink. How can we help you this evening?"
Despite her colorful exterior, she appeared sweet and engaging, helping to quell my nervous energy as I walked forward.
"Hi, um, yes," I stuttered, face flaming. "Sorry, I was wondering if Nicco was in?"
"Do you have an appointment, dear?"
"Oh, no. I don't have an appointment. I was just hoping to catch him. Maybe this was a bad idea. Excuse me. I'll just head out."
Turning, I was almost to the door when his voice stopped me.
"Loren?"
Letting go of the handle, I turned and took him in. Nicco wore a look of confusion, causing my anxiety to return. Shit, this was bad. I shouldn't have come here.
"Sorry, I was just leaving."
Turning quickly, I tried to get out of the door as fast as possible, berating myself in my head the whole while making me clueless to anything behind me.
"Loren, please. Stop."
His words halted my movement, but I stayed facing the door, unable to meet him. My breathing came fast as I focused on my reflection in the door. I could see him behind me as he approached me cautiously like a wild animal.
"Beautiful, what's wrong? Is everything okay? Please, look at me."
Nicco cautiously touched my shoulder, and when I didn't pull away, he slowly turned me in his arms. I went willingly, my body seeking his touch. Nicco tilted my chin up and gently tucked my hair back as he did. My whole life, I'd read about that move, seen it in movies and TV shows, and yet, I'd never experienced it the way I had with him. Shivers erupted over my body, and I sucked in a breath at his touch. His eyes searched mine, and his question started to sink through the anxiety I'd been feeling.
"Everything's fine. I just," I shrugged, "wanted to see you. "