God, I’m so sorry. I miss you. Things aren’t right here without you. I had no right to take my stress out on you. I was just trying to provide the best life for you. If we would have waited like I’d wanted to none of this would have happened.
Love,
Warner
I exited out of my email inbox with an efficient click and a quiet groan.
“Warner again?” Stef looked up from his laptop. The library was nearly empty today, and my best friend had commandeered the table next to the Community Outreach desk.
“Yes, Warner again,” I said.
“Told you to stop opening them,” Stef said.
“I know. I’m only opening every other one. Progress, right?”
“You’re getting naked with the Viking. You don’t need to be opening another man’s whiny, passive-aggressive, why-aren’t-you-here-to-do-my-laundry emails.”
I winced and looked around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdropping patrons. “Part of me likes seeing him grovel, even passive-aggressively.”
“Fair,” he mused.
“And another more logical part of me realizes that none of this actually matters. The relationship I had with Warner was no more real than the one I’m pretending to have with Knox.”
“Speaking of, you two sure are pretending a lot.”
“I know the score,” I assured him. “Which is more than I can say for when I was with Warner. I didn’t get that Warner didn’t really want to be with me. Knox has been nothing but transparent with his intentions.”
Stef leaned back in his chair to study me.
“What?” I asked, checking to make sure I didn’t have breakfast crumbs on my sweater.
“A woman as gorgeous, smart, and entertaining as you shouldn’t have so many half-assed non-relationships. I’m starting to think the common denominator is you, Witty.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Real nice, bestie.”
“I’m serious. I pegged Knox and his baggage within thirty seconds of meeting him. But you carry yours closer. Like it’s in an emotional fanny pack.”
“You would never let me wear a fanny pack, emotional or not,” I teased. “When are we going to talk about the fact you still haven’t asked Jeremiah for his number?”
“Never. Besides, he hasn’t asked for mine either.”
The elevator doors opened, and Sloane emerged, pushing a book cart. “How’s it going up here?” Today’s non-librarian-like outfit was slim jeans that ended above the ankles, suede peep-toe booties, and a black sweater with heart-shaped elbow patches. The frames of her glasses were red to match the hearts.
“Not bad. Stef here just accused me of carrying baggage in an emotional fanny pack, and I got Agatha and Blaze an appointment with the pro bono elder law attorney so they can talk about long-term care options for Agatha’s dad,” I said.
Sloane draped herself over the cart and rested her chin in her hands. “First of all, great work with our favorite biker babes. Secondly, Stef with the never-ending witticisms, please tell me you have a straight brother, first cousin, or old nephew. I’m not picky.”
Stef grinned. “Ah, but you are.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Never mind. It’s only fun when you pick on Naomi.”
“You know what they say,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah. If you can’t stand the heat, stay off the second floor of the library.” With that, she disappeared into the stacks with the cart.
A few minutes later, Stef headed out to take a conference call regarding one of his mysterious business deals while I helped burly biker Wraith get an appointment with the closest Social Security office and sent out an email to library patrons about October’s Book or Treat events.
I was just finishing up taking notes on the chapter on puberty in my latest parenting book when someone cleared their throat.