22. Chapter 22
Chapter twenty-two
Two more weeks later
I tried. I went to his house. But not one damned word came out of my mouth. His cast was off, and he looked good. But it didn’t matter.
Why were we being so stubborn? Why wouldn’t he give in? If he had said something, anything…but he didn’t, and neither did I. It was truly over and maybe that was what I needed to close the door on this thing.
Diving into routine was totally called for. Yes. That’s what I would do. Get up and get my coffee fix. A polite smile as I passed him on the way to the back of the bookstore, and again on the way out. Then work. Then home. Sure, ignoring him was easy—not.
My chest hurt every morning, and I wondered why the fuck I kept torturing myself. What the fuck was wrong with me?
At work, I mostly focused on doing shit. And even making up more shit to do, so I wouldn’t be staring at my laptop wondering what Jackie was doing.
At home, I read. A lot. And I fixed up my special spot in the woods. But being there was torture, too. Maybe that was the problem. I was a secret masochist. That wasn’t true. I hated every minute of this. There didn’t seem to be a way out though. Or maybe I just didn’t have the guts to apologize.