Friday, December 30 #3
She always looked up to Nicky. He was like the big brother she never had.
Somehow, their friendship evolved into a hope for more, simmering like a pot on the stove before it boiled over.
Her heart ached and skipped beats for him—longed for him to see her as more than the little girl next door.
Angelica’s world didn’t revolve around him; instead, he became her entire existence.
Given how she felt, it was natural for her to imagine a scenario in her teenage years.
Tucked under her twin bed, a shoebox held her hand-drawn sketches of her bridal gown.
Her favorite was a white lace-over-satin design with a daring backless cut, a slit up the side, and delicate matching rosettes on the shoulders.
The moment to bring the shoebox out into the open and revive her dreams may be here.
She deserves love, and the man from her long-lost dreams—once pushed aside but who truly loved her—is within reach.
Keeping him waiting in limbo isn’t fair.
Hah! She’s the one stuck in limbo. Nicky’s ready to head to Las Vegas.
Angelica kicked the comforter aside, which provided no comfort, and got out of bed to pack for the weekend.
She walked to the crowded closet and came face-to-face with a black cocktail dress, one of many she didn’t know why she owned.
She wore that spaghetti-strapped dress when Nicky took her out in May, just before she moved.
As he helped her into the sequined dinner jacket, the unexpected happened. Nicky pulled her into his arms and kissed her as he had when she was seventeen.
Where had that come from? They were living like siblings, passing each other in the halls. Not a word of interest, not even a pat on the head or the derriere. His heated kiss was the first and only sign that Nicky’s feelings for her had been rekindled.
Yet more surprises awaited her that evening.
Over their champagne and candlelit dinner, he asked her to be the queen of his condo and proposed.
She turned him down. Nicky appeared so heartbroken.
He never even had the chance to open the small velvet box.
How could he have expected otherwise? Now, seven months later, he’s more than antsy and still holding onto the engagement ring.
When she fled his home, was she escaping her painful, scarred past with him, or trying to avoid emotions she didn’t want to revisit with Nicky? Did Nicky notice her feelings for him changing while they lived under the same roof?
But he also changed. He matured and became a more loving, tender, and less flawed man. His expressions of love became evident as he shared them more willingly and openly, declaring them aloud.
Last week, her actions spoke volumes. Did she also express her devotion in the dark? She likely did, which explains Nicky’s words on the card with the roses. It’s clear she forgot far more than she remembered.
She’d never know what she said if they didn’t discuss what happened.
Communicate, as Nicky said. Speak their wishes and desires.
She was negligent in that regard. Had she become heartless?
No, she was running from her emotions—running, as in her dark dreams. Running from what she blamed on the liquor last Saturday night.
The black dress didn’t make the cut for the “big” event. Nicky would remember that dress, anyhow. He remembered everything she wore. Angelica snickered. His Visa and Amex paid for almost everything she wore.
She chose a different dress, one untainted by rejection. She pulled out a red dress, deciding that red symbolized life, a new life. Tomorrow would unfold as it should, and at the moment, Angelica didn’t know what it might bring.
The phone rang as she lowered her suitcase to the floor. Glancing at the caller ID, a mix of happiness and sadness washed over her. She answered somewhere in the middle.
“Hello, Garrett.”
“Hi, honey, how are you feeling?”
There goes that “honey” again. If only it meant more than a term people toss around. “I’m here,” she mumbled, eyeing the room she called home. But for how much longer?
“You didn’t sleep, did you?”
How could she sleep? Maybe she should tell Nicky she just wanted to sleep—really sleep—with him before making any commitments. She couldn’t do that.
Angelica moaned, her breath as ragged as her words and sleep cycle. “I don’t seem to do much of that anymore.”
In his typical steadfast manner, he asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
There he goes, caring about the locals, again. Come what may, she has to accept her choices. “I’m as well as I’m going to be for now.”
“Can I do anything for you?” Garrett asked.
Can I borrow you as my pillow tonight? That would guarantee a restful night’s sleep. But that’s not happening. She’s persona non grata. Besides, it wouldn’t work. It’s one-sided. “I think … I think some things can’t be worked out.”
“What are you talking about, Angelica?”
“Let’s talk about something else,” she murmured, sinking onto her bed with a lump in her throat.
Silence sliced through the air and across the airwaves. Garrett huffed, and Angelica sighed. She’ll miss her friend.
When everything else fails, and the conversation is stilted, bring up business related to an ex-lover. “Do you want to talk about the box Matthew Jenkins left at your house?” he asked, getting back to police business.
“I don’t have much to tell.” She shrugged to the empty room. “It was a wrapped holiday present for his sister. Heavy as a brick, but smaller. Why would he come back for it?”
“That’s interesting,” Garrett said. “The contents of the box were evidently valuable enough for him to break into your house. If that’s true, he wasn’t targeting you or seeking revenge. Did he tell you what was inside?”
Angelica mentioned his instructions not to open it. Of all the times to start listening to the jerk. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful, Garrett.”
“You’re always helpful. Are you still leaving tomorrow?” he asked with interest.
She couldn’t avoid it. She had to attend the dreaded baby shower. As for Nicky, it would be better if it happened sooner rather than later. She had decisions to make, both for Nicky’s sake and her own. As things stood, the New Year would bring a significant change.
“Uh … yes,” Angelica said, clearing her throat. “I just finished packing my bag.”
“When will you be back?”
“Early Sunday evening.”
“Please be careful, it’s supposed to snow.”
“Really? Ugh,” she grumbled. Now she’d have to take boots, too.
Garrett interrupted her packing dilemma when he asked, “Did you finish your artwork?”
For the first time tonight, her tense shoulders relaxed, and her mood brightened. “I did. I sent it out this afternoon.”
“I’d high-five you if I were there. You’re a wonderful artist, and I know this is only the beginning for you, Angelica,” Garrett cheered. “I’m so happy for you.”
She couldn’t help but smile. Unlike the ‘loved ones,’ who never even encouraged her, someone had praised her talent. “Thanks for your kind words. I hope the publisher feels the same way,” she chuckled. “How’s your hand, Garrett?”
“It will mend,” he snickered. “I’ll call you Sunday night.”
Angelica needed to talk to him, one way or another. Garrett is an extraordinary man who helped her immensely. He deserved to know where her life was headed. Whether with Nicky or without him, she would be moving on. Before she does, she must thank Garrett for everything he’s done for her.