I wince as I think about how that would go. I have zero desire to talk to him, partly because it would be pointless since I definitely don't want to get back together with him, but also because I'm worried he might still have enough of his claws in me that he'll manipulate me somehow. Not necessarily into taking him back, but into confusing me about something. The last thing I need is to take even a single step back in all the progress I've made on myself.
Except... do I need closure on anything?
The actual breakup was a long time coming, so it's not like I'm worried I made the wrong decision or need to revisit the actual night it happened. But I was so eager to get out of the relationship that I just focused on the one reason he gave me and didn't spend any time on the hundred other reasons I had accumulated.
Would it benefit me to get all the things I hate about him off my chest?
I sigh and start to massage my temples. This is not what I wanted to start my day with.
But after a while, I decide that I'm not exactly dying for any kind of closure, and I'm not eager to open up any can of worms, so it's probably best to shut this down immediately. I send a response back to Steve.
8:25am Hailey: There's nothing for us to talk about. We both said what we needed to, and my decision still stands. We're not getting back together. Please stop calling me. Just leave me alone.
Then I mute his messages and jump out of bed to start getting ready. I need to shut Steve out of my brain in order to have any kind of productive day, so I vow to myself that I'm done with any further back-and-forth. He can text all he wants but I'm not going to check them and I'm definitely not going to reply to any more. My message just now was crystal clear, and he'll figure it out sooner or later that I'm serious and then give up on trying to talk to me. He never apologized or begged for anything during our two years together so he's bound to give up pretty quickly.
I get ready for work with my usual routine, then greet Remy when she finally stumbles out of her bedroom an hour later—probably having woken up to the smell of bacon that I purposely burnt for her. She just grunts her agreement when I ask if she wants to hang out at home once I'm done with work.
I get through the entire brunch rush without once thinking of Steve. It isn’t until I go to text Jax that I realize my phone is lit up with text messages.
8:29am Steve: Baby, please. We spent 2 years together, don't you think that's worth at least one conversation?
8:42am Steve: I love you. I don't want you to throw us away because of one fight, I want to fight for us. For you.
1:58pm Steve: If you don't want to give us a chance, at least give us 10 minutes for a goodbye. We can't leave it like this, Hailey.
I scowl at the messages, annoyed that Steve is showing persistence for the first time since I've known him. My mood instantly sours—not that it's been particularly great since I also started my day with these kinds of messages—and I'm annoyed with myself for checking messages that I knew would further ruin my day. I should know better. I know I should probably block him entirely, but part of me is worried about missing his communications for fear of being ambushed or caught off guard—God knows he’s shown up unannounced to plenty of places when I didn’t answer his texts fast enough. And not only that, but there’s a part of me, deep,deepdown, that isn’t ready to block him yet, for reasons I can’t bring myself to dissect. Whether it’s from guilt or just fear, I can’t do it yet.
No, I'd rather see the texts but ignore him otherwise. That's a much better plan, even with the annoyance that it comes with.
I'm just about to slide my phone back in my pocket when I realize I have another text message. I'm still frowning when I click on the message.
1:58pm Jax: Baby girl... I know you're working right now, but I needed you to know you've taken over my every thought. I can't think of anything else. I can't wait to see you later.
2:00pm Jax: Also... I'm seeing you later, right? I want to see that pretty tattooed ankle of yours thrown over my shoulder while I pound into you because I'm officially addicted to you.
2:01pm Jax: Text me when you're home? Have a good day at work.
The biggest, goofiest smile spreads across my face, instantly causing my foul mood to evaporate. With those three texts, my day has been completely flipped right-side up again. Now when I slide my phone in my pocket, it's with a flush on my skin and a happy smile on my face.
The rest of the afternoon flies by. By the time 4:00 rolls around, I'm dead on my feet and so ready to go home. But even throughout the insane pace of brunch and the inevitable employee and customer incidents, the happy feeling never leaves my chest. Jax's warmth has infected my entire day.
I wonder what he has planned tonight—if it's another thing off theCarpe Noctem List.
And if it is, I can't wait to find out which one he's picked.
I finish closing up the café, and then twenty minutes later, I'm making the somewhat long—but very pleasant on this fall day—walk back to Remy's apartment. I sigh happily as I begin the trek, eagerly breathing in the crisp fall air and tugging my sweater closer around me.I love this city.
I quickly shoot a message to Jax, telling him that I'll be home soon. And again, the second I go to put my phone away, it lights up with a message from Steve.
4:48pm Steve: Hailey, come on. Just meet me for 10 minutes. Anywhere you want, I'll come to you. I can even come to Remy's, so you don't have to leave. I'm sure you're done work by now.
I scowl at the message, more of my happiness seeping away.
I debate texting him back but once again decide it would just encourage him. It’s not likely that he’ll show up at Remy's—he's too much of a pussy for confrontation, especially if there's a risk that my big bad sister will be around who's always wanted an excuse to punch him.
When I finally make it home to the apartment, I realize Remy and Tristan are both here. It's Saturday night, and they usually make plans to go out or watch fights somewhere, so I'm surprised to see my sister sitting at the kitchen island.
She looks up when I open the door. She's on her computer, clearly writing something because just from the doorway I can see she's got at least four pens tucked into her hair. Any more than four and we all know she's frazzled to the point of overwhelmed and in dire need of a few shots. So she's getting close.