2. Chapter Two #2
“She never said she doesn’t want anything to do with you! When did she come right out and say she doesn’t want anything to do with you?” Silas has joined him again, but this time, I might be willing to listen to them.
“I thought I just spelled that out. She literally won’t talk to me.”
“Look, we’re not trying to make you feel worse.
Let me help you. I can help, Rafe,” Mav says.
The desperation in his voice aches of missing a woman who was, as he said, like a big sister to him for years.
It hits me that the kid was barely out of elementary school when Luna came into the picture, and that kind of time truly cannot be so easily let go of for anyone.
“How?” I mumble. “What on earth can you possibly do that I haven’t already tried?”
“Leave that to me. I’ll make the plan, you just…go make yourself human looking.”
“I am not trusting my entire future to you, sorry. Tell me what’s on your mind,” I insist.
Mav’s excitement level skyrockets and Silas shoots me a this should be great glance.
“Okay, so there’s this thing called pebbling that penguins do when they love another penguin. It’s when—”
“Penguins? She’s not a flightless bird, Mav.” Silas runs his hands over his face and leans against the wall. “Oh my gosh, I regret teaming up with you on this mission.”
Mav scowls and grumbles something under his breath, probably something derogatory about Silas and his limited brainpower—the usual teases—but I can’t make it out. “Hear me out. They bring pebbles as a sign of affection, and I think you should do the same.”
“You…want me…to give my ex-girlfriend pebbles?”
“No, I want you to do nice things for her like you used to when you started dating, but this time attach love letters, notes, cards. I don’t care how you do it, but use your words, Rafe.
” Mav throws his hands in the air as if communication should be as simple for everyone else as it is for him.
It’s not, but getting him to understand that is almost impossible.
“I think I’m beyond the doing nice things for her part of this relationship.
I think it’s go big or go home time.” Admitting that aloud is difficult, especially since speaking in general is work for me.
I can’t say why, but the words never come out right.
They don’t match the intensity of feelings in my mind and always seem to fall short of conveying my actual thoughts.
So I merely don’t say them. I keep them in, bottled up, where I can’t get hurt if I convey them the wrong way.
“Start small, feel her out, and grow.”
He means well, but I’m pretty sure it will take more than flowers to win her back at this point.
Still, his insistence has sparked an idea…
sort of. I can sit around here feeling sorry for myself, or I can go all in.
Truth be told, the fear of her rejection is worse than my fear of, say, public displays of begging and pleading, but at this point I need to know what my future will hold.
I need to know if she’s going to be in it or not.
And if she’s not, I need the door firmly slammed shut with her words.
“I have to think. Give me some time to process this a little, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I get it. It’s daunting, but I think it will work,” Mav says.
“Maybe. But…I gotta think,” I admit and slowly close my door.
My brothers mumble something about praying for us but I’m too distracted with my thoughts to really hear them.
Once it’s quiet, I lay on my bed and let my mind run rampant.
What can I do to get her attention, prove to her that I’m willing to do what it takes to make a future for us?
Thinking about things like this hurts my brain, so I switch on my computer and log on to play one of my many games with some friends.
I notice Veronica Reynolds, my friend and partner in my latest gaming app venture, is online with her fiancé, Archer.
I hesitate to join the game they’re playing since it will take some focus, but decide it’s probably better to be a little distracted with them than random strangers who will get mad at me for ruining missions.
I enter the game and slip on my headphones.
“Hey, hey, friend,” Ronnie says. An image of her pops up on my screen—space buns, purple streaks in her hair, and white-rimmed glasses.
You never know what look she’ll have, and guessing the colors has become a game in itself for me.
Her fiancé pops up on another square and he looks…
not miserable, but for sure less interested in the game than she is.
“Hey, guys. How are you?” I ask and try to scrape my beard into something reasonable.
“You look like you’re entering the playoffs, dude. What is up with the beard?” Archer asks with a chuckle.
“Uh…I don’t know. Just not feeling shaving lately, I guess.” Before Ronnie can dig deeper, I force us into a battle. It’s quiet aside from the sounds of gunfire, barked orders, and the occasional explosion.
Archer’s deep concentration shows in his wrinkled brow, narrowed eyes, and his tongue caught between his teeth.
I always get a laugh watching him, but he’s a good guy.
I like him for my friend, and it’s been nice getting to know the pro hockey player.
But I spend a little too long watching his animated reactions, and walk right into a land mine.
My character dies a horrific death, while Ronnie watches with wide eyes, mouth agape.
After a few blinks, she clears her throat, puts down her controller and leans close to the camera. “Okay, Thomas, spill it.”
Archer glances to his right, which gives me some indication of where she is in his proximity, but the look he gives her says a lot.
I know that look. I’ve probably given it to her myself.
It’s the look of a man who knows he’s about to get things dragged out of him he doesn’t want to admit.
Veronica has a way about her. A way that says I’m not doing anything else until you tell me absolutely everything that ails you and we figure out how to solve it without her even saying a word.
“It’s nothing. I’m just a little distracted, that’s all.”
“Does this have anything to do with you kissing Luna at your brother’s wedding and her ghosting you?” Ronnie asks. Archer glances between his fiancée and the screen.
“How…do you know about that?”
Ronnie shrugs. “I mean, I play with your brother too. He has a big mouth.”
I growl and lean forward, running my hand down my face. “Mav. I’m going to kill him.” I glance back up and drop my controller. “Yeah, it’s true. I’ve tried contacting her but she doesn’t respond. Mav and Silas think I need to do a bunch of nice things for her, complete with gushy love letters.”
Archer grimaces. His daughter, Indy, enters the frame and waves at me. “Hello, Mr. Thomas!”
“Hi, Indy. You look pretty.” She’s wearing a tiara and bright blue eyeshadow.
“Thanks! Daddy, I made cookies. Do you want some?” She shoves a tray of something goopy in front of Archer and he nearly gags.
“What is that, honey?”
“Glue and Play-Doh and glitter and…this!” she squeals and hands him a bottle of perfume. Ronnie turns her nose up at what I assume is a horrible smell.
“Uh, I’m going to go wash the expensive bottle of perfume off my kiddo while you two talk. Later, Rafe,” Archer says before Indy waves and they both exit the frame. Once it’s quiet again, Ronnie redirects her attention to me.
“What do you think you should do?” she asks.
“I’m not sure. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but if she doesn’t want me then what can I do? I can’t force her, right?” I ruffle my too-long hair and sit back in my gaming chair.
“Right, but what if she doesn’t know what she wants?”
“What do you mean?”
Ronnie bites her lip and glances over her shoulder before leaning in even closer as if she’s telling me a secret.
“Sometimes people are scared, Rafe. They don’t know what they want because they’re hiding from the world, lost in grief or fear or whatever it is they’re feeling.
That’s okay for a while, but they can’t live there forever.
Sometimes you just have to say what you want, go for it, all in, loud and clear. ”
I swallow hard and remember how much Ronnie had to work to prove to Archer that love deserved a second chance after his wife died. It had to be hard for him, but now they are the happiest, most in-love couple I know…and that is saying something, knowing my family.
“I decided one day that it didn’t matter if Archer knew what he wanted. I would tell him what I wanted, what my intentions were, and if he wanted to meet me halfway, then I was there waiting for him.”
“You think I should do something like that for Luna?” I ask, wary. It could have gone horribly wrong for Ronnie, but it didn’t. That doesn’t mean that sort of luck strikes twice.
“What have you got to lose?”
Yeah. She’s right.
What have I got to lose?