I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. He’s going to leave it in the mailbox so I won’t even have to get out of my car.”
“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind. I don’t know the circumstances of your separation, so I wasn’t sure if going back would make you uncomfortable.”
I smile at his thoughtfulness. “That’s nice of you, but it’s fine. One of the problems was that he was never around, so it won’t be hard to avoid him.” He shakes his head. “What?” I ask.
“I just don’t get how any man could stay away from you. I just met you and it’s hard for me to stay away.”
I look out my window to hide my smile because I don’t want him to see how his words affect me. While getting to know Ethan, I’ve noticed he has no problem expressing how he feels. It throws me for a loop and I’m not sure how to respond when he says things like this, but I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t like it. After being neglected for so many years, this is a welcomed change.
Ethan pulls into the parking lot and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. Of all the coffee shops in this city, he had to pick this one? It’s obvious the universe is a twisted bitch set on seeing me suffer.
As we get out and approach the door, a sense of dread hits me. I don’t realize I’ve stopped moving until Ethan says, “Is this okay?” When my focus comes back to him, he’s holding the door open waiting for me to walk through.
“Yeah, sorry.” A tight smile appears on my face and I’m thankful he doesn’t know me well enough to pick up on my discomfort.
The place looks and smells exactly the same as all those years ago. None of the tables have moved, and the pictures on the walls haven’t changed either. I swear I’ve gone back in time; the only difference is the person I’m here with.
Ethan walks me to a table and helps me sit down before saying he’ll grab our drinks. I barely hear him as I’m transported to seven years ago when I believed in fate and thought the universe was working in my favor.
Take accounting, I thought. It’ll be easy. I can add and subtract. Yeah, I definitely underestimated this class. With my first test coming up in three days, I’m doing my best to cram for it so I can pass this class and move on.
I read the next word problem. The financial statement that reports the . . . bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. And his smile? I swear my knees were going to buckle.
Dammit!
I run my hands through my hair in frustration. I haven’t been able to get Nate Townsend out of my head since I went to his office to get tickets for a recruit’s family last weekend. On the weekends I work for the school by taking recruits and their families around campus and escorting them to the games. I needed a special ticket for a disabled family member and had to go to the ticket manager to get them. I had no idea one look at him would render me speechless or a flash of his smile would make me swoon. Yeah, I was in serious trouble and needed to get out of there as fast as possible, yet needed to stay as long as I could.
As soon as he crosses my mind, I get irritated with myself. I’ve never been hung up on a guy before, especially one I don’t even know. My irritation turns into embarrassment because I know there’s not a chance he’s still thinking about me. He probably has a wife and kids to go along with his white picket fence. He has a career and is clearly older than me. Why would he be interested in a student?
With a huff, I try to focus on my work and leave all thoughts of him out of my mind long enough to get through this. That plan blows up in my face when a shadow covers my table, making me look up. You’ve got to be kidding me. Nate Townsend.
“Do you mind if I join you?” He gestures to the seat in front of me. My mouth goes dry and my brain loses the ability to perform basic functions, so all I do is nod. “How are you, Charlotte?”
He remembers my name? I don’t know why something so simple makes me giddy, but it does. “I’m great, how are you?”
“Good.” He takes a sip of his coffee as my eyes track every movement of his lips. “I hope I’m not bothering you.” His words cause my eyes to snap back up to his face.
“Uh, no, not at all. I was about to take a break anyway.” Lies. I haven’t even started because I keep getting sidetracked by him.
“What year are you?” he questions.
“This is my fourth year.” My insides are doing flips and no matter how much I try to convince myself to relax, it doesn’t work.
“Nice, so you’ll be graduating in the spring, right?” He has the kindest face from his warm eyes to his welcoming smile.
With a breath of laughter, I respond, “I should be.”
“Uh oh,” he jokes.
I shrug. “I like to dabble in a little bit of everything, so I never settled on a major. It’s set me back slightly.”
He nods in acknowledgment. “What interests you then?”
“All kinds of things. History, psychology, business, law, the arts. Well, almost everything. I’ve come to learn that I hate accounting.” I point at my papers scattered everywhere with my book holding them down.
He lets out a deep chuckle that vibrates through my whole body. “I see your dilemma.”
“I’m glad you do. My parents aren’t as understanding.”
“Really? I’m sorry to hear that. Nothing like family pressure to make things difficult.”
See? He gets it. My dad’s constant complaining only adds to my stress and feeling of failure. “He doesn’t understand why I can’t nail down what I want to do, but for me it’s more than just blindly selecting a major. This sets the course for the rest of my life, so I want to get it right. I don’t want to be stuck doing some job that I dread every day. What’s the point of that?”
He studies me with a grin on his face, and I don’t know if he finds me funny or intriguing. To break the silence, I say, “What about you? Do you like what you do?”
“Being the ticket manager isn’t my dream job, but we all have to pay our dues, right? I want to work my way up to athletic director eventually.”
“That’s awesome. I’m sure your wife and kids are supportive.” I mentally kick myself when a knowing smile spreads across his face at my blatant transparency. If there was a hole, I’d jump in it right now.
“I’m completely single. I mean, that’s what you really wanted to know, isn’t it?”
Forget the hole, now I just want to die. I can tell the tips of my ears are turning red as the rest of my face heats up. Way to be smooth about it, Charlotte. “Sorry if that was intrusive,” is the only thing I can think to say. It’s not like I can deny my intentions since they’re written all over my bright pink face.
“Not intrusive at all. I kind of like that you’re curious about me.”
“You do?”
“Yep, it means it’s not one-sided.” His admission renders me speechless yet again. “I hate that I need to leave, but I’m already late for work this morning. Can I have your number and take you out for dinner sometime?” he asks.
“Sure, I’d really like that.” I’m not sure how to describe the expression on his face, but it almost looks like relief, like he was worried about my response. The knowledge that maybe I make him a little nervous too relaxes me as I jot down my number on a napkin.
“Thanks, I’ll talk to you soon, Charlotte.”
“Bye, Nate.”
I take a deep breath as I let the memory pass. I’ll never forget how I felt in that moment. It was like I could fly, walk on water, do the impossible. Here was this man who seemed genuinely interested in me. He never talked about himself unless prompted to do so, and I always had his unwavering attention.
Being in this coffee shop is messing with my mind. It was hard to remember the good moments we had toward the end of our relationship, but here I am being smacked in the face with it. Did I let a couple bad years tarnish our whole marriage?
Ethan sits down in front of me with our coffees in hand, pulling me out of my own head. “A friend told me about this place and said it had the best coffee
in town. It’s been around forever apparently.”
“Forever, huh? I was in college when it opened,” I inform him. I’m only teasing, but he has the decency to look embarrassed. He starts sputtering out incoherent words to cover his gaffe, but it’s not needed. “How old are you?” I ask. I’ve been wondering since he piqued my interest, and I guess this is as good a time to ask as any.
“I’m twenty-one.”
My God, I’m a cougar.
Well, not really, but that’s what it feels like.
The parallels are a little creepy in that I was twenty-one when I met Nate who is seven years older than me. He never made a big deal about our age difference, and neither did I. To us, it was a silly number with no bearing on how we felt about each other. But as I stare across the table at Ethan, I can’t help but feel like the seven year age gap is a flashing neon sign hanging above our table.
Maybe I’m thinking too much about it. Maybe my head is a mess between Nate’s call and my trip down memory lane. Either way, all I want to do right now is bail and go home. I’m not ready and this is too soon.
“Everything okay?” Ethan asks, picking up my sudden shift.
I glance up at him and see the concern on his face. Here’s this great guy who is sincere and kind sitting in front of me and I can’t get out of my own head long enough to enjoy his company. What the hell is wrong with me?
Swallowing hard, I give him a nod. “Yeah, sorry.”
“No worries,” he says. “What are you doing today?”
“Nothing exciting. Well, other than this,” I add to which he smiles. “I need to go to the grocery store, but that’s about it.”
“Well, if you reconsider my dinner offer, I have plenty of food at my place that I could whip up for you one night.”
I give his request some thought. I know I said I wasn’t ready, but maybe moving on is what it’ll take to break me out of my funk. Before I can talk myself out of it, I find myself saying, “That sounds great.”
ANOTHER WEEK HAS come and gone, and I couldn’t be more thankful that it’s Saturday. I need a couple days where I’m not under the intense gaze of Ethan. Things are going great between us, but I’m hyperaware when he’s around and it makes it hard to concentrate on anything else. I keep chalking up these feelings to the newness of the situation and pure infatuation, but it’s more than that. I genuinely enjoy Ethan’s company, and when I’m around him I’m happy.
My phone dings with a message, drawing my attention to it.
Lydia: It’s almost go time!!
My mouth drops open as I spring up from my seat. Oh my God!
Me: Are you at the hospital??
Lydia: Just got here. About to get my epidural and I’ll be all set.
Me: Eeek! I’m heading over now.
I rush around the apartment to grab my things so I can leave. With the way I’m running around, you’d think I was the one in labor. After a few minutes, I’m in my car, making the drive to be there for my best friend as she welcomes her new baby into this world.
My feet carry me swiftly through the entrance of the hospital. I’m bouncing with excitement as I’m given directions to the waiting area for labor and delivery where I pace back and forth waiting for news.
“Hey! Have you heard anything yet?” I look behind me to see Paige and Scarlett walking through.
“Not yet. The wait is killing me though.”
“Us too. We texted her when we parked, but haven’t heard anything yet,” Scarlett says. Her hair is tied up in a knot, but she still looks gorgeous even in lounge wear.
“What do you think she’s having?” Paige asks. Her hair is braided to the side, and she’s wearing loose jeans and an oversized shirt. It’s apparent all of us ran out in whatever we were in to come here.
“I think she’s having a girl,” I say. Lydia and Marcus decided to wait to see what they were having. I don’t know how they’ve done it. It’s been killing me and it’s not even my baby.
“My bet is a boy,” Paige says.
“I’m going with Charlotte on this one. I think she’s having a girl too,” Scarlett adds.
“Pssh, we Riley men only make boys.” We turn around to see Sean, Marcus’s brother, enter the waiting room. By his exaggerated walk and his overly cool demeanor, it’s easy to tell he’s joking.
Paige groans and rolls her eyes, but it’s only to mask how she really feels. She thinks no one notices, but there’s an obvious tension whenever they’re around each other, and I wish they’d just get it over with and hook up. It would make being around the two of them at the same time a lot easier for all of us.
“Where are your parents?” Scarlett asks him.
“They’re on their way and should be here in about an hour. Have you guys gotten any updates?”
We shake our heads. “We just got here,” Paige says, pointing to Scarlett and herself.
“I’ve been here for about thirty minutes and haven’t heard anything either.”
“No news is good news,” Scarlett says.
“Yeah, she’s probably making Marcus question his existence right now.” A deep, sympathetic sigh leaves Sean’s lips.
We all laugh and I’m thankful for him. I’m sure Lydia and the baby will be okay, but you never know. Being in the dark and having no idea what’s going on is a little maddening.
“I’d like to introduce you to Ella Marie Riley, born April eighth at two seventeen this afternoon,” Marcus suddenly announces, holding up his phone with a picture of her on his screen.
We all erupt into cheers, congratulating the new daddy. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Gathering around him, we comment on how perfect she is and call dibs on who gets to hold her first. He goes on to tell us how amazing Lydia is. I already knew that, but hearing the pride and awe in his voice makes me realize just how lucky she is to have him. He worships her.
“Did you act like a sissy and cry?” Sean asks.
I roll my eyes and Paige nudges him in the stomach with her elbow. “You just wait until it happens to you, bro. We’ll see who’s the sissy then.”
“That’s a yes,” Sean mutters to himself, but loud enough for us all to hear.
Marcus usually gives Sean a run for his money in the smartass department, but he has complete tunnel vision as he looks down at his phone. All of his focus is on his little angel and everything else melts away. Seeing how much he already loves her brings a smile to my face.
“I better mark her birthday down in my calendar so I don’t forget next year. I don’t want to be accused of being a shitty uncle,” Sean says as he messes with his phone.
I laugh lightly at him until it dawns on me what today is.
April eighth.
My wedding anniversary.
I honestly can’t believe I’m just now realizing it, but today marks six years I’ve been married to Nate. It’s a sobering thought and immediately sours my good mood.
Standing at the altar, declaring my love for Nate in front of our friends and family, I never imagined I’d want a divorce. It makes me wonder if I truly did everything I could have to save my marriage. Yes, I was unhappy, but did I give Nate a chance? Maybe I should have tried to talk to him more about my feelings. Make him listen and see how he was hurting me—hurting us.
I shake my head, pulling myself out of these thoughts. This isn’t the time to think about this. I should be celebrating with my friends, not wallowing in self-pity.
“When can we see them?” I ask Marcus.
“They should be moving them to recovery soon. As soon as she’s there, you guys can come up and say hi. I’m going to get back to her now. I need to hold my baby.”
He walks away, and I couldn’t be happier for the three of them.
“He’s so whipped,” Sean quips back, but his silly grin lets me know he’s joking. God forbid Sean show a soft side.
It seems like forever, but thirty minutes later we’re crowding Lydia’s room and passing the baby around. For someone who just gave birth, she
looks phenomenal. Lydia glowed while she was pregnant, but that doesn’t hold a candle to the way she looks at the moment. The only way I can describe it is content.
I move to the back by the door after I’ve had my turn to make room for everyone else. Now that Marcus’s parents are here, we’re all rubbing elbows standing around Lydia’s bed. After a few minutes, there’s a knock on the door, so I move out of the way to let the nurse in.
Except it’s not the nurse.
It’s Nate.
He looks just as surprised to see me as I am him while we’re both frozen staring at the other. He looks slightly thinner and dim. Where his light blue eyes used to twinkle, they now look lifeless. He’s paler than usual with dark circles beneath his eyes. Overall, he looks like shit, and a pang of guilt hits me knowing I might be responsible.
“Hey,” he says with an awkward smile.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I internally cringe with how that sounds. “Sorry, that sounded a lot ruder than I intended. I’m just surprised to see you here.”
“I saw Marcus’s post about the baby online. I came to say congrats. They’re my friends too.” I notice a hint of defensiveness in his tone, but don’t bring attention to it. Before Nate got promoted, he was very much in my friends’ lives. We all hung out together frequently, but if he’s been absent from my life, he’s been nonexistent in theirs.
I nod. “You were always out of town during important events, so I’m not used to seeing you at them.” My tone is gentle. I’m not trying to attack him or come off as abrasive; I’m merely making an observation.
He shrugs. “I’ve been working on some stuff since you left.” His tone is flat and I can’t tell if I’ve offended him or just reminded him of why I left. I want to ask him more about what he just said, but he walks past me and up to Lydia’s bed.
I stay where I am, rooted to my spot as I watch little Ella get passed to Nate. The image of a baby in his arms brings tears to my eyes as I think about all the hopes and dreams I had for the two of us. Like it’s happened so often since I left him, I’m overcome with moments of light to drown out the dark.
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