Chapter 16 #3
“He’s an idiot,” I spit out. “A complete idiot for letting you go. But I’m grateful he did.
You don’t deserve to be treated that way.
Your personality drew people in when we knew each other before, Leyla.
You still do. Your personality brings people together and makes them feel welcome.
God created you that way, intentionally, to be a light in this dark world.
No one, and I mean no one, should ever try to extinguish that light!
I believe that is His purpose for you, or one of them anyway. To bring light, to share light.”
I didn’t realize how angry I had gotten until my hands shook when I reached for hers.
Those jewel-toned green eyes were stormy and tear-filled.
I pulled out the pack of tissues I’d started carrying with me after the first time I’d seen her cry.
She nodded her thanks and wiped under her eyes.
There was nothing I wanted more than to stay in this bubble with her.
A bubble that allowed me to touch her like this, comfort her.
But people were starting to look at us, so I asked, “Do you want to get out of here? We can walk a bit.”
Nodding silently, she wiped her eyes with a napkin while I settled the bill. Once out in the sunshine, I heard her take a deep breath.
We walked side-by-side down the sidewalk to a nearby park. I checked my watch, and we still had about ten minutes before we were both expected back at the office.
“Thank you, Niko. You’ve come to my rescue twice in a matter of days now, when I became a blathering fool,” she said through a watery laugh.
“You’re not the fool in this scenario. Not at all. And I’ll always be here to wipe your tears.” The words were out before I could stop them. She looked at me and smiled, wiping away the last tear with a loud sniff.
“I believe you, friend,” she said softly.
Great. That word again.
“Do you and Ethan stay in touch?”
“No. He moved on quickly. Toward the end, when I brought up marriage, he said he wasn’t ready. Weeks after our split, he was posting pictures with a beautiful brunette, and what felt like a minute later, she was tagging him in a photo on her socials with an engagement ring.”
“He cheated on you?” I barked out.
“No idea. Of course, I never asked, but one of her posts said something about love at first sight, so maybe it was sudden.” She shrugged it off, but I could hear the tone in her voice change.
“I am so sorry. Well, I am, and I’m not. He didn’t deserve you, but you didn’t deserve to be hurt like that. How long did you say it’s been?”
“Two years. I was so angry and hurt that I haven’t gone on a single date since. A self-declared man ban,” she said with a chuckle.
As I led us back to my car, my brain snagged on that word.
Man ban. No dating. My stomach plummeted to my feet. This was going to be harder than I had thought.
Once she was settled in the car a few minutes later, I pushed my luck and asked, “So you really haven’t dated anyone in two years?”
“Nope,” she said pointedly as I closed her door and walked to the driver’s side.
As I slid in and started the car, she said, “Not going to anytime soon, either. I think I’m done.”
When I put my arm behind her seat and turned to look behind me while backing up, I heard her take a deep breath. Once safely on the road, I asked, “Everything okay?”
She nodded, but wouldn’t look at me. “Yup. All good. I’m just fine. Good. Super good.” She cleared her throat a minute later and asked. “You don’t use your backup camera?”
I wasn’t sure why that mattered, but I answered, “No, I don’t trust it, I guess.” She nodded but continued facing forward.
Leading us back to our previous conversation, I said, “But what if someone really great came along? You wouldn’t be interested in dating him?” I asked, sneaking glances at her.
“Doubt it.” She turned in her seat to face me, making me nervous. “What about you?”
I swerved to avoid a curb but regained control quickly. “Sorry, I thought I saw a pothole.” It was only partially true. I started sweating, thinking about her question.
“No worries. So are you, um, dating someone? You haven’t mentioned anyone. I mean, not that you would to me, I guess. But we’re friends now, so…” She wiped her forehead and turned back to face the windshield.
Taken aback by the question I wasn’t expecting, I stammered an answer. “Nope. Not seeing anyone right now. I haven’t for a while, come to think of it. I guess we have that in common.”
“Oh, really? Why not?”
I blame what happened next on the emotional nature of our previous conversation in the café, the revelation that she wasn’t interested in dating, and was now asking about my dating life. Did I mention that I was also driving?
“W-women make me nervous. I don’t do well on dates,” I said, with a strangled-sounding chuckle.
“Nervous? You don’t need to be nervous. Is it all women or just some? Have you always felt this way?”
She was peppering me with questions, and my brain was sputtering.
If I could picture the inside of it, I’d surely see little men in overalls trying to get my synapses to work properly, but I was too far gone.
Why overalls? I blame it on Mike and his wild imagination and the ridiculous conversations we’d had in the past.
“Ah, yes?”
She laughed and tapped my arm, causing more synapses to fire in the wrong places. How far was the office? I felt like I’d been driving for hours. I could feel my mouth drying up, and my armpits were a swamp.
“Hey, you know what would be a great idea?” she asked with enthusiasm. Praying she was moving on to another subject, I shook my head.
“No.” My tongue was numb. Completely numb. I was starting to become alarmed at this point.
“I could help you out,” she announced, like she was about to gift me with a grand prize.
“H-help me out?”
Oh, look. It’s the office, finally.
I pushed the gas pedal to get there as fast as possible so I could get out of this car and end this conversation.
“Yeah, like give you pointers. Give you topics a woman would be interested in,” she said, her eyes wide with what looked like excitement.
I pulled into the first open spot I found and parked, feeling like I was about to faint. Sweat was pouring off me. Did Mike set this up? My brain was scanning all the data, trying to figure out how he would have managed such a thing, but I came up empty.
“So, what do you think?” Her green eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed pink, and she turned back to look at me. I was a goner.
I was relying on the fact that my mouth was as dry as the Sahara, my tongue was still strangely numb, and the men in overalls in my frontal cortex weren’t helping. Most likely because they were doing cartwheels. There was no way I was going to agree to this.
Come on, brain. Put a stop to this now, I beg you.
And yet, the next words that fell out of my mouth were a whispered, “Sure, I’d like that.”
Never have I ever wanted to slap my hand over my mouth more.