Page 34 of Faking it with my Off Limits Neighbor

But I’ll be honest; it’s not the events of the party that have been swirling around my head since. Once we drove back and Troy asked me in for dinner, the evening got a whole lot more interesting. There were highs and lows, though far more of the former than the latter.

After probably the most delicious meal I’ve ever had, Troy and I finally talked it out. I didn’t plan for that to happen. It was as organic as it was going to be. Troy was open and honest, which I wanted, no matter how much it hurt.

I didn’t really know what to expect, but hearing that he feared I might hold him back from going after his dreams was a stab to the heart, to say the least. I would never have stood in his way. Not ever.

Then again, as we both said, we were kids back then. It’s easy to be rational now, when we’re grown and mature, but it was different when we hadn’t yet reached the age of twenty. Clearly, Troy knew what he wanted far more than I did back then. It was sad that he couldn’t tell me that, but that’s all in the past now. At least I know now; I know the truth.

It’s like another layer of the wall between us has come down—not that the wall I had built wasn’t already crumbling at a great rate. All my promises of keeping my distance were long broken. Broken and trodden on.

And then, at the end of the night, Troy completely blew me away. In fact, the moment his soft lips kissed my cheek, I was taken right back to that day in Milly’s bedroom. That day when he made me feel I was worth something.

I don’t even think my feet touched the ground as I floated back to my house that night. My stomach was in knots; my heart fluttered as I replayed it over and over in my head, and sleep did not come at all easy.

Something magical is happening between us.

In the days since then, we haven’t really seen each other. On my workdays, I’ve left early in the morning, and his truck has still been in his driveway, but when I return at the end of the day, it’s gone. We’re like ships in the night. No doubt, he’s spending all his time at the restaurant, readying it for the launch.

I’m cleaning my kitchen, just thinking about him, when I hear a knock on my front door. I can’t help but smile to myself. It’s like thinking about him has magically made him appear on my doorstep. Weird, right?

Ripping off my gloves, I nearly skip to the front door; in an attempt to contain my delight at seeing him again, I take a deep breath in.

Calm yourself, Charlie. You don’t know where this is going to go yet.

But I can’t help it. I open the door with a smile a mile wide, ready to greet him with all the happiness I feel. Very quickly, however, the smile falls from my face, and I freeze. A second later, the person standing there meets my eyes.

“Eddy?” I blurt.

“Hey, Charlie,” he says, with that charming smile.

Eddy is about five foot ten; he has sandy blonde hair and small features. He’s handsome and can charm just about anyone. That’s how we ended up getting together in the first place. Stupidly, I fell for that charisma. Of course, I didn’t know at the time that the charm was hiding a selfish narcissist.

What I don’t understand is why he’s here now on my doorstep, nearly three years after we broke up.

“Can I come in?” he says.

I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He frowns. “Why not? I’m only here to talk.”

“I’m sure you are,” I reply, “but I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well, I have plenty to say to you,” he counters. I watch the telltale signs as his façade slowly slips. His jaw tenses, though he’s trying his best to hold the false smile.

“I think it’s best all around if you just leave, Eddy.”

The smile has now vanished completely. He takes a step forward. I take a step back, reaching for the door, readying myself to slam it closed if need be.

“So that’s it?” he growls, the anger simmering beneath his words. “After all we shared, you’re just going to throw it all away?”

“It’s been over for three years, Eddy,” I respond. “Why are you here?”

“You can’t treat people like this,” he says, his voice now rising. “You can’t just walk away without giving me a chance to explain!”

The frustration I’ve been trying to hold back is now battling to break free, and while I’ve tried to remain calm so far, I cannot any longer. “You slept with other women!” I yell back. “Not one, or two, but a lot of them, Eddy.” I can feel my body shaking at the injustice and the absurdity of his argument.

“Those were mistakes,” he bellowed. “You didn’t give me a chance to explain that.”

“And what?” I shout. “I was supposed to just forgive you, and that would’ve made it all better? I was supposed to believe you would never do it again?”

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