Chapter 5 #2
She gets to making our coffees and I find myself smiling and staring into space as I go over the last two days.
This girl.
Finally, I collect the coffees and make my way up to the room. I walk in and find Emma fully dressed, standing beside her packed suitcase. “Hey.” I look around the room. “What are you doing?”
“My flight’s been changed, I have to leave early.”
“What, now?”
“Yeah.” She gives me a sad smile.
“Give me two minutes and I’ll come with you.”
“Don’t be silly. There’s no use in you sitting around the airport all day when your flight isn’t until this afternoon. You stay here as long as you can.” She kisses me quickly. “I’ll see you later.”
“What?” I grab her hand and pull her back to me and we come face-to-face. “When will I see you again?”
She shrugs. “Call me and we’ll work something out.”
I pull her into my arms and kiss her big, beautiful lips. “Keep next weekend free. I’ve got plans for us.”
Her eyes search mine. “Okay.”
“But first I’m going to need your number.” I smirk. “I know everything about your body, just not your number.”
“You wish,” she fires back.
I take out my phone, open it, and pass it to her. “Put your number in and send yourself a message so you have mine.”
She types away and passes my phone back to me, and again her eyes search mine. “Goodbye, Aaron.”
“Goodbye, Emma.” I smile down at her, but she drags her gaze away.
She seems different.
I put my finger under her chin and lift her face to meet mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiles sadly. “I just hate goodbyes.”
“It’s not goodbye, it’s an I’ll see you soon. Call me when you land.” I hold her cheek in my hand as I take her lips in mine. Our kiss is soft and slow.
Intimate.
Perfect, like her.
Then, just as quickly as she came into my life, she turns and walks out the door.
6 p.m.
I sit at the airport and glance at my watch. Emma would have landed by now.
Why hasn’t she called?
I scroll through my phone.
Emma You Wish
I chuckle when I see what she’s saved her number as, and then I send her a text.
I trust you’ve landed safe. Thank you for the best weekend. Just about to board my plane, I’ll call you tonight.
I stuff my phone back into my pocket and sit back with a satisfied smile.
I’m not even joking; I had the best weekend of my life.
Emma
Kara blinks as she processes what I’m telling her. “What do you mean, he has a girlfriend?” She sucks on the straw of her oversized Coke. We are in Mc Donald’s, downing Big Macs as we dissect my fucked-up love life.
“We had the most incredible weekend, and I’m not even joking you, I was seeing white picket fences. Then he was in the shower and Amanda texted him.”
“Who’s Amanda?”
“I’m assuming the girlfriend” I shrug, “saying that he must be deep in conference mode and why didn’t he call her last night.”
“Hmm.”
“I mean, you don’t message someone and ask why they didn’t call you last night unless you are seeing them. Right?”
“What did the girls at the airport say about him again?”
“That he went to a conference and hooked up with someone and came home and left his girlfriend for her.”
“So it’s a pattern.” She takes a bite as she listens. “Like a serial killer, only with sex.”
“Exactly, only this time I’m the new hookup.”
“Maybe that relationship was doomed anyway.”
“Whatever.” I shove a handful of fries into my mouth. “I’m not being the side chick.”
“So you want to be the main chick?” She frowns.
“I’m being no chick of his at all. He can go fuck himself, that’s what I want.”
We eat in silence for a bit.
“So what are the next steps with finding Magdalene?” she asks.
“I don’t know.” I sigh. “Maybe it’s the universe telling me to drop it.”
“Maybe.”
We keep eating and my mind wanders back to him. No matter how many times I’ve tried to stop thinking about him today, I can’t help myself. “The shitty thing is that I really liked him.”
“Sounds as if every woman he meets likes him.”
“Damn it, I hate that players play so well.”
“Same.” She touches her Big Mac to mine in a cheers symbol. “Fuck ’em all.”
Aaron
It’s 9 p.m. and I check my phone again. Why hasn’t she called me?
Ugh… Playing hard to get, probably.
I dial her number. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring… An automated message plays.
You’ve reached voicemail. Please leave a message after the tone.
“Hi, Em.” I smile. “I hope you got home safe. I landed about an hour ago. Heading to bed now, so call me tomorrow.” I stay on the line, wondering what to say next. “I guess I’ll… speak to you then.”
Monday night.
I check my phone for the one hundredth time today. “Why the fuck hasn’t she called me back?”
I’m beginning to get pissed now.
Who does she think she is?
I dial her number. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring… The same automated message replies again.
You’ve reached voicemail. Please leave a message after the tone.
I hang up without leaving a message.
What the fuck is she playing at?
Maybe she lost her phone? Hmm. I search for her on Instagram.
Nothing…
I search for her on Facebook.
Nothing…
That’s so weird, I know she has Instagram because I saw her on it. Why isn’t she coming up?
Where the hell is she, and why isn’t she answering my calls?
Wednesday Night.
Four days.
For four fucking days I have been chasing her down.
Not a word from her.
Did we or did we not have the best weekend in history, or did I imagine the entire fucking thing?
I’m livid, and so help me if she doesn’t answer her phone tonight, I’m going postal. I dial her number. Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring…
“Hello,” a man answers.
Surprised, I frown. “Who is this?”
“Tom.”
“Hello, Tom.” I fume. “Can I speak to Emma?”
“Ain’t no Emma here.”
“Wait…” I screw up my face in question. “What do you mean? This is your phone number?”
“Last time I checked, it has been for the last twenty years.”
“So Emma isn’t there?”
“I don’t know an Emma.”
“Hmm, I must have dialed the wrong number. My apologies.” I hang up and scroll through to her number again and hit dial.
“Hello,” Tom answers again.
I inhale sharply as rage fills my every cell; she gave me the wrong number.
She gave me the wrong number… on purpose.
“Are you fucking serious?” I murmur as I do the math.
“I don’t know who you are, but screw you, man,” Tom replies before hanging up on me.
After the weekend we had, she gave me the wrong number. I can’t believe this! I stupidly thought we had something with her little Miss Innocent routine, and she’s nothing more than a horny witch who was using me for a good time.
I throw my phone in rage. “Fucking bitch.”