Chapter 14
Chapter 14
“Eddie,” I whispered, barely able to catch my breath.
“Hi, Marissa. You look great. It’s good to see you.” He smiled at me, and my mind was instantly awash with every memory, every feeling, from our time together. It was Eddie. My Eddie. The love of my life.
The man who had broken my heart.
I blinked at him. My heart hammered so fiercely, it threatened to burst out of my chest.
You know the first time you bump into your ex after you’ve broken up, and you want to look your best, with a hot new guy on your arm, everything in your life as it should be? Well, I was that person and this was my time. I had my career, I looked good, I had just spent the evening with my amazing friends, and I had Nash. It could not have been a more perfect storm in which to see him.
But in a flash, I was that sad and desperate girl he’d left all those years ago.
He extended his hand, offering me my jacket. I took it, mumbling my thanks, struggling to come to terms with the fact Eddie— Eddie! —was standing a mere three feet away. If I reached out, I could touch him, this man who had occupied my thoughts for so long.
I’d fallen into one of those weird Dali pictures with the melting clocks—only I was the one melting.
“What are you doing here?” I breathed, twisting the jacket in my hands.
“I came to see the gig. She was good.”
He had been here all evening?
He looked casually around the café, as though his throat hadn’t seized up and his mind wasn’t racing a mile a minute. And, perhaps, it wasn’t.
“This is a great place. I’ve never been here before.”
“Um, yeah.”
“It’s good to see you,” he repeated and smiled again.
“You . . . you said that.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his handsome face. I would love to say he looked terrible, that he’d lost his hair, put on ten or fifty pounds, perhaps even lost a few of his teeth. But he hadn’t. His dark hair was cropped shorter than it used to be, but his eyes were just as green, his body just as long and lean, suggesting he still worked out, still took good care of himself.
He looked like the same old Eddie, the Eddie who could make my heart sing, the Eddie I had loved with all my heart.
Damn him to darnation!
“Do you have a minute? I saw you were here with friends, so maybe you need to go back to them, only I’d like to talk.”
“Friends, yes. I was here with friends.” I thought of Nash, waiting patiently for me outside the café, and was forced to swallow my guilt. Why hadn’t I mentioned my boyfriend? Wasn’t that the general idea when you saw your ex? Rub in how incredibly happy you were and how him leaving you was really the best thing to ever happen?
He took a step closer to me. “If you have to go, maybe we could meet up tomorrow? I would really like that.”
“Tomorrow?” I let out a puff of air. Eddie wanted to see me tomorrow? “Oh, tomorrow. Yes, well, I have a thing, and then another . . . thing. So, sorry . . . I can’t.”
He looked utterly crestfallen. I wanted to wrap him up in a comforting embrace and kiss away his worries, tell him I was wrong, that I would do whatever he wanted. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Seeing him was so unexpected, so totally derailing.
I locked my jaw, determined not to let him get to me. I had come too far. Hadn’t I?
“Okay. I get it. I was terrible to you, horrible. You didn’t deserve it.”
I nodded. Good summation.
“Marissa, you have to believe me when I say, not a day has gone by since we broke up when I haven’t felt like the total piece of dirt I was.”
I swallowed, bit my lip. Where was this going?
“And, well, seeing you here tonight reminded me how great those days were.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. These were the words I had wanted to hear for so long.
“They were great.” I glanced at the door. “Look, Eddie, it’s been so,”—gut-wrenching, confusing, off-the-charts insane?—“ unexpected to see you. In a good way, of course. But . . . I really have to go.”
“I get it.” He nodded, looking forlorn once more. “I’ll see you around. Take good care, okay?”
I nodded back at him. “Thanks, I will.” With my jacket in my hands, on shaking legs, I walked toward the door.
As I passed him, he reached out and lightly held onto my arm, looking intently at me. “I . . . it was good to see you,” he said quietly.
I looked down at this hand on my bare arm and then back up into his eyes.
“See you later, Marissa!” Paige called from behind the counter, bringing me to my senses.
I barely registered her as I pushed my way through the door and stumbled out of the café. I could still feel Eddie’s hand on my arm, hear his words ringing through my head. I took a deep, gasping breath, the world a blur around me as I tried to steady myself.
“Are you all right?” Nash asked, his hand on my back.
I looked up into his face, etched with concern. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Sorry.”
Why was I apologizing?
“Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I shot him a surprised look. I had seen a ghost, one that had thrown me into a tailspin.
“Hey, you two lovebirds,” Cassie teased. “We’re calling it a night. See you on Monday, okay?” She gave me a quick hug, and I had to remind myself to hug her back. “It was so awesome meeting you, Nash.” I watched in a daze as she hugged Nash, too.
“Yeah, good to meet you, mate,” Will said, pumping Nash’s hand.
I watched as though through a camera lens as Nash and Josh also shook hands, bidding one another farewell. Then, it was Ryan’s turn. It was all happening around me, but I didn’t feel part of it. All I could think about was Eddie. Eddie turning up at my favorite place. Eddie saying he’d treated me badly and felt terrible about it.
Eddie wanting to see me again.
“Marissa?”
I came back to reality to see Ryan shooting me a quizzical look.
“Did you hear me?”
“Sorry, what?” I tried to focus on his face.
“I said, I can hitch I ride with Josh, if you like? He’s offered to take me home.”
I glanced at Nash and back at Ryan. “I . . .” What did I want? I was too confused. Part of me wanted to curl up on Nash’s sofa, eat chocolate, and enjoy the feeling of being safe, of being with a man who liked me, who was uncomplicated, who was new.
Another part of me wanted to storm back into the café and confront Eddie over what he did to me and . . . and, what?
And kiss him?
“You okay, sis?” Ryan asked, his head cocked to the side.
Finding some form of inner strength, I replied, “Actually, I’m not feeling that well, so I think I might just head home.” I turned to Nash. “Is that okay? I’m so sorry, I have a headache coming on.”
Not the most original excuse known to womankind, but it was all I could think of at the time and I was running with it.
“Of course,” he said softly. Not for the first time tonight, I swallowed my guilt. He pulled me in for a hug, and I breathed in his comforting scent. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I nodded and smiled, tears threatening my eyes. Tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow things would feel different, tomorrow things would make sense. Tomorrow I could see Eddie’s words as what they were: an apology, an apology I needed to accept and move on from.
Tomorrow, everything would be clear.
Only, it wasn’t. It was far from clear.
I woke up in twisted sheets, feeling as though I hadn’t slept a wink. My mind was full to bursting, cycling through my conversation with Eddie and trying to work out the meaning behind what he’d said.
Why did he want to see me? He had looked so hurt when I had said no to him. What did it mean?
In an instant, I was a young eighteen-year-old once more, back when Eddie was mine. I let out a sigh, full of longing. The way he would look at me, the love in his eyes, the warmth in his smile. He had made me feel like I was all that mattered to him, like his life held no meaning without me.
And we had been good together. We would go on early morning runs, preparing ourselves mentally and physically for the day. Although we were students and had next to no money, he would take me to romantic places, pick wild flowers for me, surprise me with a romantic picnic for two at our favorite beach. It was magical time, a time I had found so hard to forget.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand: nine thirty. Wow, I had overslept! That wasn’t like me in the least.
I threw my covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed, sitting upright and running my hands through my hair. I locked my jaw. Part of me screamed, “How dare he do this to me!” Just when my life was going great, he had to turn up and remind me of the person I once was, before I was “Marissa Jones, successful career woman,” with my own apartment and life.
And Nash.
I scrunched my eyes shut. Nash . He was amazing, everything I could want in a man. My freak-outs didn’t faze him in the least, he was kind and sweet, heart-stoppingly handsome, quite possibly the best kisser on the planet, and the man packed a good picnic. All in all, he was perfect.
But he wasn’t Eddie.
I let out a heavy sigh. I stood up and padded down the hallway to the kitchen. Perhaps coffee could help me out of my malaise?
“Hey,” Ryan grunted from his habitual spot on the sofa. “Your headache any better?”
“Headache? Oh, yeah. It’s better, thanks.” I pulled a tub of coffee out of the pantry and proceeded to make myself a cup. “Want one?” I offered Ryan.
“Sure.”
With the coffee made, we sat in silence, side-by-side on my sofa, nursing our respective mugs. Some cop show I don’t watch on TV was set to mute.
“Nash seems nice,” Ryan said, his eyes on the screen, his words punctuating the silence.
“Yes. Yes, he is,” I replied.
He was right, Nash was nice. So nice. He had got on so well with everyone, laughing and talking about anything and everything. I’d felt so close to him, all evening, stealing glances at one another, not being able to stop smiling when our eyes had met.
I was sure he was the guy for me.
Or, at least, I was sure he was, until I saw Eddie.
“You seeing him today?” Ryan asked, taking a sip of his coffee. “Ah, that hits the spot.”
I thought about our plans. Before my “headache,” we had agreed to meet at his place so I could see Lucky and the puppies, then head out to the dog park with Dex, the one we had gone to on our first ever date. Nash had joked it would be a “reclamation of the space,” imitating those hipster types with the ironic man buns who liked to talk in that pretentious way. It had been funny at the time.
Now? Not so much.
I bit my lip. “I’m meant to see him, yes,” I replied.
“Mind if I turn this back up? It’s getting to the good part.” Ryan scooped up the remote lying on the cushion between us.
I shrugged. “Sure.” I had no interest in watching cops chase baddies, but anything was better than the inner turmoil currently duking it out in my brain.
“Oh, your phone’s been beeping like mad this morning,” Ryan said, nodding at my phone, sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
I reached out and picked it up. There were messages from Cassie and Paige and Bailey, all raving about Nash: how charming he was, how good-looking he was, how nice he was. Paige waxed lyrical over no less than seven messages about how she simply knew he was The One for me and how lucky I was to have found him.
I let out a heavy sigh. They were right, all of them. Nash was amazing, and I was incredibly lucky to have him. So, why did I feel like this?
My phone beeped in my hand once more. Expecting another message extoling Nash’s perfection, I glanced at the screen. My heart stopped.
I need to see you.
It was from Eddie.
My mind began to race. What did he mean? Why did he need to see me, not just want to see me? Did he want to apologize again? Maybe he was doing some sort of twelve-step program to become a better human being or something? I could be one of those people he needed to apologize to, to make recompense.
I scrunched my eyes shut, then opened them again to look at the screen. Yup, message still there, still from Eddie.
There had to be an explanation for this. The cogs in my brain continued to whir.
Was the message meant for me, or was his fiancée also called Marissa, by some weird cosmic coincidence?
Okay, so I realized that one was probably a long shot, but I was open to all possibilities.
With trembling fingers, I typed a one-word message back.
Why?
I held my breath, not taking my eyes from my screen. When his message arrived, the beep made me almost levitate off the sofa.
Because I can’t stop thinking about you.
My breath hitched in my throat. Okay, so that was no twelve-step program.
I typed out a quick reply, my finger hovering over the “send” button for a moment. I pressed it, chewing my lip.
You’re engaged.
My phone pinged once more.
Not anymore.
What?!
My eyes almost popped out of my head. Eddie was no longer engaged? When had that happened? With fingers I could barely control, I opened up my Facebook app and typed in his name, misspelling it several times in the process. Finally, I found it. Relationship status, where was relationship status? Bingo.
Single.
Oh, my gosh. I slumped back on the sofa, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Eddie was single?
Ryan laughed, pulling me back to reality. “This guy is freakin’ stupid if he can’t see who the killer is,” he commented, shaking his head.
“Yeah,” I replied, not knowing who the “freakin’ stupid” guy was, but happy, for once, Ryan was preoccupied with the TV.
I glanced at the large carriage clock on the wall. I needed to shower and get ready to leave. I had another date with Nash, perfect, wonderful Nash.
And I needed to push Eddie and his single-slash-engaged-slash-completely confusing status as far from my mind as was humanly possible.