Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“I think we’re done here,” Russ said, thanking his lucky stars that he and Benji were separated by several paces. He wanted with every cell in his body to punch the smug look off Benji’s face.
“Yeah, we’re done, all right,” Benji said, returning to cutting lemons. “You want out? I’ll buy your share. But you’re going to regret it. And when the American girl dumps you in a few days and you come to your senses, don’t come crying to me.”
“It’s not about her.”
“Sure.” Benji snorted. “I can handle things here until we start getting busy at five. But don’t think you’re going to bail on your responsibilities, princess. You still own half the bar.”
And then, he was gone, striding into the kitchen, the door banging closed behind him.
Shelby’s stomach hurt as she waited outside her hotel, checking her watch.
Brandon would be here any moment now, and she still didn’t know how she felt about that. She was afraid that when she saw him, she would revert back to the role of needy wife, the one she had played to perfection for nearly fifteen years. But that’s not who she wanted to be anymore.
Could she open a new chapter with Brandon?
Was she capable of being who she wanted to be in that relationship, if she returned to it?
Or would she turn over a new leaf, only to return to the bad habit of putting her own needs on a shelf to accommodate Brandon?
Could the rules of their relationship—the ones she’d largely created herself to try to be the wife Brandon wanted—even be rewritten?
But Shelby didn’t want those rules anymore. No, she wanted to finally be her authentic self. She wanted to have bad hair days and to not worry if she had five extra pounds around her waist. She wanted to say what she thought and be listened to, because how she felt mattered.
In short, she wanted to be who she’d been with Russ for the past few days.
But being with Russ himself wasn’t the answer, was it?
What was the expression? People come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.
Maybe her path had crossed with Russ’s for a purpose—to show her that there was a different way forward.
After all, there was no realistic future here in Paris with him.
She could just imagine calling her parents—who were already so disappointed that she’d thrown away the life they’d always dreamed of for her—to tell them that she wasn’t coming home because she’d met a guy in a bar. It was laughable, really.
And maybe she had played a purpose in Russ’s life, too.
Benji had said that Russ was rethinking their business partnership.
But what if getting out of the bar was the best thing for Russ, too?
When he’d talked about the long hours, his sense of doing something meaningless, and his desire for something more, he had sounded so unhappy.
Maybe something about meeting her had given him the push he needed—and therefore, maybe she had somehow changed his life for the better, too.
That’s what she told herself, anyhow, as she called him for a third time. Her calls were rolling directly into his voicemail, which made her uneasy. Had she done something to offend him? She hadn’t left a message at first because she didn’t know what to say.
But now Brandon was coming. And she owed it to Russ to do the right thing before he arrived.
“Russ? It’s Shelby,” she said once his voicemail had beeped.
“I came by the bar earlier because I wanted to catch you to say…” She trailed off and dove in again before she could second-guess herself, adding in a rushed tumble of words, “I had so much fun with you. I really did. And if things were different in my life—if we lived on the same continent, even—I think maybe there’d be a chance for us.
But I think I’m being unfair to you, because, let’s be honest, there isn’t a future in this.
I have to go home at the end of this week, and I know you have things to work out here, and…
” She cut herself off because she was babbling.
“Anyways, maybe I’m overthinking it, right?
We had fun together, and maybe that’s all this is.
The thing is, I wanted to say thank you, because you reminded me of who I want to be as a human being, and that’s worth everything.
I—I wish I’d met you sooner, before so much of my life was already written.
But I’m so glad to have had the opportunity to get to know you and, well, I wish you the best. And I’m… I’m sorry.”
She hung up quickly before she could sound even more pathetic.
Would he roll his eyes at her rambling message?
Maybe she was ascribing meaning to something that had none.
Maybe he hooked up with tourists every week.
Maybe she was imagining that he’d looked at her like she was something special.
Maybe he’d play her lame message for Benji, and they’d laugh their heads off.
Regardless, it didn’t matter. She could fix everything that was broken in her life just by saying yes to Brandon, and she wanted that. She wanted what she’d had before he’d blown it all up. But this time, it couldn’t be all on Brandon’s terms.
“Shelby?” Brandon’s deep voice came from behind her, and she spun around in time to see the man she’d married approaching from a half block away, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.
He looked like a Ken doll—blond hair, broad shoulders, narrow waist. Her stomach did the same little flip-flop it always had when she’d spotted him across campus in college, when their relationship had been new and magical. Could it be that way again?
“Brandon,” she said as he reached her, her voice breaking, and then she was in his arms, and he was dipping her for a dramatic kiss, and she was laughing, and he was laughing, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed at all and that he hadn’t filed for divorce and she hadn’t realized how happy she could feel with someone who wasn’t him.
“I screwed up, babe,” he said, finally letting her go and giving her a dazzling smile. “I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to win you back.”
Her heart fluttered again as he slung his arm around her. It was everything she’d wanted to hear, but somehow, it didn’t fill her up the way she’d imagined it would. Still, he was her past and her future. “I love you, too,” she said, and she meant it.
But as they turned to walk into the hotel, she realized she was crying, and she honestly didn’t know whether they were tears of joy at the possibility of a new beginning or tears of sadness at the end of something that could have been a new kind of happily ever after.