Chapter 19
I got no sleep after Tyler rejected me. I tried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop fuming at the degradation. Couldn’t get him out of my mind where he belongs. I tried everything from rereading my favorite passages from my favorite books to imagining I’m floating in a big black void, which has been my favorite trick for falling asleep quickly ever since I read about it in some book ages ago.
His grinning face kept plastering itself against the serene blackness.
His smiling face, no less.
With his lips glistening from the one kiss he let me have before storming out the door like some deranged lunatic.
Is this what falling in love feels like?
I don’t want anything to do with it if it does.
This frustration is just too much. It’s one thing reading about it, but feeling it… Angsty romances are not among my favorites, never have been. That’s a big no, thank you on that.
It was that thought-that conviction—which finally let me find some sleep. But it wasn’t a restful kind of sleep. I don’t remember what I dreamed, but I’m pretty sure I was plagued by nightmares about what had happened. Or maybe the nightmares were about what might have been if he hadn’t rejected me.
I woke up hoping to see an apology text from him and there wasn’t one. I spent the day with that same hope and that same disappointment every time I checked my phone and there was no text.
By the time night fell, I was ready to send him a text myself. But my pride wouldn’t let me. Yet even that began eroding as I faced another night of tossing and turning and trying to keep my thoughts away from him.
A knock on the bookstore door long after I’ve closed it for the day sends me running to open it. I was so sure it was Tyler, I’m almost disappointed to see Ariel standing there.
I hope she doesn’t see that on my face as I open the door wide and greet her happily.
“What brings you by?” I ask, almost telling her how happy I am that she did come. But that would be weird. Even though the night suddenly doesn’t seem so dark and sleepless anymore now that she’s here.
“Are you busy?” she asks. “I’m bored and I don’t want to go home yet.”
“Not busy at all,” I say and open the door even wider. “Come on in.”
I proceed to offer her all sorts of things to drink, mostly because my phone is buzzing by the cash register and there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s Tyler finally realizing the error of his ways.
She opts for tea, since neither of us are big alcohol drinkers, and I have about a million more questions about the flavor she wants, because I feel so bad about wanting to run to my phone and put Tyler, who has ignored me and rejected me, before her.
Ariel is the sister of my friend Chance’s girlfriend and she’s been through a lot. She’s been abducted and spent years as a sex slave before she even turned eighteen. A fate I don’t even want to contemplate. I’ve wanted to get to know her better, but she rarely says much when she comes out with us and I’m not great at starting conversations either.
I’ll give her my undivided attention just as soon as I check the text. I swear.
Sure enough, the text is from Tyler.
And the flash of happiness as I see that is immediately followed by an equally strong surge of anger. Another thing I was in no way prepared for.
He writes that he’s sorry. That he can’t stand the thought of not seeing me again. That he was an idiot and asks will I forgive him?
I just read it and didn’t respond.
Truth is, I truly don’t know if I want to get back on the rollercoaster with him. It’s as destabilizing as it is draining.
No, that’s a lie.
The truth is, I want him to stew.
And that is precisely what I do.
Ariel and I talked well into the night and I ended up telling her about Tyler, something I swore I wouldn’t do until I was sure about him. And I am currently absolutely not sure at all. The phone seems very heavy in my pocket all through our conversation. And growing heavier as I realize just how much I want to reply to his text and tell him I do forgive him. And how much I want him to come over so we can finish what we started last night.
“Are you sure he’s all right?” she asks after I tell her about him. “I mean with the war and everything going on. It’s not the best time to trust strange bikers.”
That is indeed a very good point. But one I’ve well and truly already crossed.
“He’s fine,” I say. “He’s from the East Coast and doesn’t know anything about the war.”
“Just be careful,” she says. “You don’t want to end up like me.”
Hearing her say it brings a lump to my throat that even another hour of talking about books and guys in general and living life to the fullest doesn’t quite erase. Just before midnight I walk her to her car, helping her carry all the books I’ve lent her to read.
Then I just stand on the empty, dark sidewalk, watching her drive off. The breeze is strong enough to ruffle my hair, but I’m enjoying its coolness against my skin. The world is so empty right now, yet I clearly feel Tyler out there somewhere, homed in on me, waiting for my reply, waiting to hear I forgive him.
I take my phone from my pocket, not sure I do.
He’s sent two more texts.
I got us tickets to see an old version of Wuthering Heights Friday night. Please say you’ll come.
I want to make it up to you.
And in that moment, I do forgive him. Wholly and completely.
No guy has ever shown this much interest in my interests.
Or tried this hard to have me.
So what if he’s a little confused? So what if I have to try a little harder with him? Or wait a little for him to come to terms with his feelings?
How many times have I heard the girls complain that it takes ages for guys to manage that?
There’s suddenly no doubt in my heart that it’ll be worth the wait in the end. That we will have the kind of happily ever after I’ve only read about until now. Possibly even better.
OK, I’ll be there.I text back. Then add, And I will let you try to make it up to me.
Because the one thing I do know about guys is that you should never let them off the hook too easily.