Page 3 of Worth the Wait

In the past, my answer would’ve been an immediate yes. When that’s not forthcoming, my pause serving as a red flag for me, I know I have some big decisions to make in the very near future as my current contract expires soon. “Not as much as I used to,” I admit. He nods, showing an understanding of my predicament without offering platitudes or advice. Instead, he lets me continue. Seeming to know that I need to get it out. “Initially, I applied for the role because my coworkers had roots.” I catch the sympathy my confession invokes and tack on, “My parents passed my freshman year of college. Carbon monoxide poisoning at a hotel they were staying in while on vacation.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s sincere, not a knee jerk response that so often follows news of a tragedy.

“Thanks. I won’t claim it still doesn’t hurt, but it has lessened over time.”

“It’s like a scar,” he says. “The wound itself will heal, but it will always leave its mark on you.”

Peter gets it. Which can only mean he’s experienced it. Now my heart aches for him. “How long has it been?”

“A year,” he quietly answers. I know he doesn’t believe saying it louder will make it any less true, only that speaking it period pokes at what is clearly still a painful reality. “My mom.”

Hoping it sounds as genuine as I mean it to be, I put my hand on his arm and tell him, “I’m sorry, too.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you and your dad close?”

**Peter**

“Yeah. Losing her brought us even more so.”

“I’m glad you had, have, each other.” Who did she have? I get the feeling she didn’t have anybody and I hate that for her. It explains why she was able to take a job that pulled her from everything she ever knew. Which was probably the biggest selling point for her. At least I had my brothers-in-arms to help me through my grief.

My team, consisting of me, Carter Jacobs, Marcus Wayne, Tyler Dawson, Frederick Iverson, and Teddy Brown, are tight. Not only because we’ve faced life and death situations together, though that is part of it. But we all meshed from the moment we met. Within seconds, it was if we’d been friends forever.

An instant knowing that I’d never experienced before or after.

Until now.

And that was prior to actually meeting Bellamy.

I’m trying to focus on the moment instead of the knowledge she doesn’t live in the area nor have any idea when, or if, she’ll return.

Emphasis on the trying.

I’ve never had a problem with failing, it’s part of life and can teach you a valuable lesson. But in this case? I wish like hell my attempt to be in the moment was successful.

As the diner starts to do their closing routine, I know we’ve delayed the inevitable as long as we could.

“I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.” There. I put the ball in her court. What happens next is up to her.

“Then don’t.”

**Bellamy**

Peter follows me to the motel I’ve been staying at while I’m in town. I’ve been put up at better and worse, so I’m content with the current lodgings. The doors are all facing the parking lot, allowing tenants to come and go without passing through a lobby.

There are plenty of restaurants in the surrounding radius, making it a change of pace from locations that have had one or two to choose from.

Having the same food day in and day out quickly gets tedious, yet I can’t complain. I’ve learned to be grateful for every bite I’m able to consume. Having been to places where eating was a luxury and not a standard allotted to everybody was an eye-opener.

We go to my room and, after he removes his jacket, nerves begin to set in. “Nothing has to happen tonight,” he assures me. “Or any.”

That squashes my anxiety. “I like you, Peter.”

“I like you, too, Bellamy, and I want to spend time with you.”

“While I’m here.” I hate having to put that quantifier on it, but I need to know if that’s all this is to him. I’m not saying I’m against the possibility, only that I want to know ahead of time what his mindset is where this is concerned. “I think this could definitely become something, though, if we let it.”

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