13. I’m Sorry
I’M SORRY
In the days that followed their talk at the diner, Drie steadily shored up her defenses, bracing herself to be love-bombed. And yet, with every day that passed, she felt more and more foolish, like she’d readied an armada to march on an ant hill.
Retrospectively, Drie wasn’t sure why she had expected him to overreact.
It wasn’t Fisher’s style in the least. He’d always been the strong and silent type, watching situations play out while maintaining his distance, quietly analyzing.
Prior to their implosion, he hadn’t been spontaneous at all, which was, ironically, one of the things that had attracted her to him the most.
Drie had always gravitated toward people who behaved in predictable patterns.
She craved dependability. It was why she’d bonded so closely with Jeden and Rosy, despite Sam and Nellie being closer to her own age.
Jeden, in particular, was the poster child for predictability—a result of her many medical restrictions.
Nellie, the resident madcap, could never be expected to behave in a predictable manner.
Sam, on the other hand, was something of an enigma that Drie had never fully understood.
She came across quiet and focused, currently finishing up her degree in accounting, of all things, but there had always been a sharp edge to her silence.
Having been only a year behind Sam in school, Drie remembered the many ways she had stealthily manipulated things to work in their favor all too well.
Drie loved her sister fiercely, but she’d learned to regard her with a certain degree of respectable wariness after so many years of observational conditioning.
There were things going on in her sister’s head that she clearly did not understand.
And after the drama of her breakup with Fisher, and his uncharacteristic behavior in the following weeks, she’d been forced to acknowledge that there was a lot she did not know about him either.
She’d found herself flailing, not knowing what to expect or what to believe from a person she’d once trusted implicitly.
So it certainly threw Drie for a loop when Fisher backed off peacefully and held to his word, giving her space, respecting her time, and not bombarding her with public scenes or surprises.
He simply texted her a brief message first thing every day, wishing her a good morning and ending with an invitation for breakfast. She always responded with a polite decline, not yet ready to return to the place they’d spent so much time together, swapping stories about life and laughing over their syrupy meals.
And each morning, he let it go, not pressing the topic.
Afterward, on most days, he’d send one or two additional messages of inconsequence spaced throughout the day.
Sometimes, it was a funny nursing meme that would make her giggle reluctantly.
Other times, it was an interesting article or clip from one of the shows they had watched together.
But more often than not, it was simply a thought or an image he wanted to share—like a picture of a new book they’d stocked that he thought she may enjoy, or a wish that she could’ve been there with him in that moment.
He had kept that simple exchange going for weeks, despite her obvious lack of involvement.
Other than her initial decline to meet each day, she wasn’t responding to him at all.
But she did read the messages, and then re-read them, wanting to believe them, her heart wishing she could.
Until she grew angry, all over again, for the feelings of doubt her mind harbored.
Telling her it was all just a cruel game that she had never learned how to play.
Telling her to ignore the wishes of her heart and choose the smarter path that wouldn’t prove to be emotionally devastating.
“Give him some time. Take it slow.” The memory of Jeden’s voice whispered, and Drie sighed. Her doorbell buzzed, and she gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last look over. Her gaze hovered over the mascara and lip gloss she’d applied and the smooth bounce of her freshly curled hair.
Besides attending class, it was her first outing in months, though Drie couldn’t dredge up the slightest hint of excitement.
She wanted to blame something, anything—her class load, Nellie’s most recent drama, even her tumultuous feelings—but though she may have hated it, the truth was clear.
It isn’t Fisher waiting on the other side of that door.
Rather than address that thought, Drie turned away quickly, rushing out before Maverick got any ideas about being invited inside. He seemed caught off guard as he stepped back to allow her to pass, but as always, he remained unbothered.
When they’d first met, Maverick was simply the ideal class partner, but after enough study sessions, they’d developed an easy camaraderie—especially when the third and fourth members of their project team proved to be as useful as a pair of rocks.
He held out a hand once they reached the sidewalk, and then winked when she took his elbow instead, whispering, “Careful, m’lady,” in her ear as they moved down the steps leading up to her building.
Her laugh was quick and easy as she looked up at him, trying to figure out exactly what was going on in his head.
He’d never shown an interest in her before that day at the diner, and he hadn’t brought it up at any of their team reviews since.
He’d even seemed surprised when she’d texted him, like he never actually expected her to follow up.
Drie studied his profile as they walked to his car, as he held her door open like a proper gentleman, and as he drove her to the fairgrounds, making idle, surface-level conversation about the upcoming exam in their genetics course.
He was, for all intents and purposes, the ideal date. He was attentive, attractive, clever, and kind. But the thing that kept nagging at the back of Drie’s mind was the fact that he didn’t seem overtly interested in being with her. He was just friendly. Always—and only—friendly.
“Why did you ask me to come to this?”
Maverick’s eyes widened at the direct question.
He tapped the steering wheel with his outermost two fingers thoughtfully, and then finally answered, just as directly, albeit a tad sheepishly, “I love history, and I wanted to come see the cosplayers and the costumes. But I hate going places alone, and none of my local friends would come with me.” He glanced at her. “Please don’t be offended.”
Time suspended for a brief moment as Drie processed his words, and then her giggles cut through the tension like a hot butter knife.
Maverick joined, and it quickly escalated into uncontrollable hilarity.
The relief she felt spoke more truths that she wasn’t ready to address, so she let it spill out as peals of laughter that had her holding her ribs.
When they walked up to the entrance a few minutes later, wiping tears and chuckling softly, Drie reached over and pushed him sideways. “You had me so damn confused. I was already working out a plan to avoid a good night kiss. It involved a lot of onion rings.”
He rolled his eyes and pointed at her. “First of all, I love onion rings.” He held up a second finger.
“Dos, that just sounds like a convenient excuse to eat fried food.” He threw up a third finger.
“And third, I know you’ve got some kind of weird dynamic going on with that iceberg man, and I am not trying to get caught up in all that.
” He paused and gave her a quick once-over.
“But for the record, if you ever did need a rebound, I would happily volunteer my body as tribute.”
Drie snorted and shoved him again, finally relaxing into the experience.
They meandered casually through the grounds, interacting with enough actors in powdered wigs for Maverick to be tickled sufficiently pink, and Drie got her fix of fried goodies.
They even stumbled across a guy dressed as a Frenchman and snapping whips, who Maverick made her wait to take a picture with, because “that guy will be famous one day.”
All in all, it was a great way to spend a Saturday, and she was feeling more herself than she had in ages when Maverick dropped her back at her apartment.
He leaned in with a comical fish-lip attempt at a good night kiss, and Drie stopped his advance with a palm to his forehead.
She smiled at his goofy face. “You’re a good one, Mav. Thank you for today.”
He smiled in return, sketching a very historically accurate bow.
“The pleasure was all mine, m’lady.” And then he straightened and held out a fist to bump.
“Seriously, though, that was a ton of fun, and I appreciated the company. I’ll see you Monday.
” She nodded and laughed as he clicked his heels on the way back to his car.
She glanced back at her apartment entrance.
It was too early for bed, and she didn’t have any urgent assignments to work on.
Drie was definitely too hyped up to read a book or watch a movie, so she supposed that left the option of cleaning…
She grimaced at the doors and turned away, moving down the sidewalk toward the park she hadn’t visited in months.
She had used to go out several times a week to watch the sunset reflect its oranges and pinks in the river below, until it became hers and Fisher’s spot.
She’d avoided it since the breakup because of the memories it held. Technically, they’d met in the library, but it was the park, halfway between their two apartment buildings, where everything had begun. The spot where they’d sat by the water for hours at a time, simply talking.
Her mind was away, lost in the past, as her feet guided her back to the rusty old swing by the river’s edge through muscle memory. And it was for that reason alone that by the time she’d realized the space wasn’t vacant, she was too close to make a stealthy retreat.
Fisher turned slowly in his swing and leaped to his feet, his expression shocked. “Drie! I—uh, you can…” He motioned to the swings. “Do you—well…Ah. Do you want me to go?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t intend to run you off. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He nodded, settling back down as he inclined his head toward the faded red swing to his left, the one she knew had her initials carved into the leather.
Going with her gut, she stepped forward, taking her seat.
Her fingers curved around the cracked plastic covering the chains, and she let the toes of her sneakers drag softly in the wood shavings as she swayed, enjoying the gentle breeze, carrying with it the soothing earthy smells of the water.
Drie glanced to her right and smiled softly when Fisher looked away immediately, back out over the river.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her whispered words loud in the quiet space.
That brought his eyes back, his expression the epitome of alarm. “What—” He cleared his throat, his voice still an octave higher than normal when he spoke. “What are you apologizing for?”
She eyed him skeptically. “For not responding to your messages? What did you think I was apologizing for?”
He released a shuddering sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You…finding someone new, I guess. Leaving town. Giving up on me.”
Drie shook her head. “No. Not at all.”
His grey-blue eyes scanned her face, so earnest in their perusal. “You’re sure?”
She took a deep breath. “I’m angry, and I’m scared, Fisher. I miss you, but I don’t trust you. I want to give it time, but I feel like I’m leading you on and giving you false hope, not knowing how things will turn out.”
“So you’re basically scared that you’ll do to me what I did to you?
The irony.” He scoffed, rotating his creaky swing to face hers.
“I know you do not intend to hurt me. You’re not cruel.
I was awful to you when you deserved a lot better.
If you told me to go away right now, that I had fucked us up beyond repair, I would respect that.
But I don’t want to go anywhere. And I know that you’re not offering me any promises, but please believe that I want to stay right here, beside you, for as long as you’ll let me. ”
“But I don’t want you to resent me one day,” she said, twisting her own seat to mirror his. “To have wasted all this time on me, only for it not to work out between us.”
“Drie, I have no interest in dating anyone else. I didn’t even consider it when we broke up.
Since the moment we met, you’ve been the only woman I notice, which was another obvious sign that I missed.
” He hung his head between them, lifting it just enough to look up at her as he continued.
“I fell in love with your cleverness and your kindness and the compassion you have for the world. Time spent with you is never a waste. And if it only ever leads to us being friends, I’d be proud to call you my best friend. ”
Drie’s inhale was unsteady as she eyed Fisher. “You’re getting really good at these speeches.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about what all I should’ve said to you before.
And all the things I hope to have a chance to tell you in the future.
” He flashed her a weak, sideways smile—a slight curve to one corner of his mouth, just enough to make her breath catch in her lungs.
She turned back to the river, and they sat quietly, companionably, as the sun sank inch by inch in the distance, setting the sky and water ablaze.
A short while later, when Drie glanced back from the elevator doors to wave goodbye to Fisher after he’d walked her back home, she could see the flicker of hope in his hesitant wave and his soft smile.
And for the first time in months, rather than smothering it with her fear and rage, she let a tiny spark of that hope come to life in herself as well.