Page 22 of Those Two Words

Dex’s face morphs into that of sympathy and he places his hand on my shoulder. “I think if you gave her the time of day, you’d be surprised to find out that’s not the case. I worked that out after spending one hour with her.” With his other hand, he runs it over his buzz cut. “I know a lot went down between you two. It was messy, but it’s also been left unresolved. Don’t you think now is the perfect opportunity to speak to her and find out what happened? A lifetime of friendship swept away over what you think you saw?”

“I know what I saw,” I grit out, pulling my beanie off in frustration.

“Okay, okay. You saw what you saw. Maybe now is the ideal time to ask her what it meant though. Shit, only your mom and me know that you flew?—”

A gasp behind us has him pausing, and we turn to find one of the servers standing in the doorway, no doubt shocked to find two grown men in the ladies’ restroom. We apologize and relocate to the office.

Throwing myself into the chair behind the desk, I crack my neck and wait for Dex to continue his friendly lecture.

“Can you honestly sit there and tell me you’re not curious? Or don’t want to see if you can get a modicum back of what you once had?”

Like my next breath. It’s been brutal silently missing Jo all these years, almost as difficult as secretly pining after her. To have her in my life again and all these memories resurfacing, that’s even tougher.

“I want to do my job and not let this place be ripped away from us all.”

“Spend a little bit of time with her. She’s…I don’t know. Something felt off, like she was…”

“Lost,” I finish for him.

“Exactly.” He dips his head to the side and observes me from where he’s sitting on the leather sofa in the corner. “So you have been paying attention to her?”

Of course I have, I want to shout. I notice everything about her. Always have and always will. But Dex is right. Things have changed since she left; I’m a father, for one. I can’t continue blackballing her. The way she laughs and smiles seems muted, like something in her has been snuffed out and it’s been eating me up inside to find out why since she stepped back into my life.

“I work with her, so it’s hard not to notice her.”

“Go easy with her, man. We were all shocked about her moving away. What good is it going to do keeping her at arm’s length? You’ve not dated or shown an interest in any woman since she left. You’re really over her?”

“God, of course I’m not!” Dex doesn’t flinch at my outburst. “I haven’t stopped thinking about her. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t wondered what she’s doing, how she is, or if she still thinks about me. I’ve typed out hundreds of texts over the years and then talked myself out of sending them. I let six years pass. I think it’s too late for anything, even a friendship.”

“If you aren’t going to ask her those burning questions, then you need to move past all this man. It’s not fair on either of you. Sure, you might not get back what you lost, but isn’t it better than walking on eggshells around each other? Try to see past everything that went down, and maybe you can be friends again.”

I shut my eyes and slump down into the chair. My head feels like it’s trapped in a vortex as I try to sort through my thoughts. My wallet digs into me, and I pull it out of my pocket, flinging it on the desk. I hate that he’s so right. But I also don’t, because Jo and I can’t carry on like this.

She has never been just a friend. Hell, we were more than that before she left. We can’t go on pretending there isn’t an ocean of unspoken words between us now that distance is no longer an excuse.

My worn leather wallet screams at me, but I don’t dare open it up in front of Dex. Because that’s a little piece of Johanna that I want to keep for myself.

I’m an idiot. A fucking idiot.

As I sit in a dark corner of Shirley’s, I repeat those words in my head. I have no idea what I’m doing here, but after Dex let it slip where Jo was headed tonight, I decided now would be a good opportunity to speak to her. He tried to talk me out of it, but the moment the seed was planted, there was no telling me otherwise.

He never pushed me to reach out to Jo after I told him the truth. I think he sensed how torn up I was over losing my dad and how things turned out the last time I saw Jo. Perhaps I did jump to conclusions, but I was not in the right headspace to even begin unpacking that. My impending fatherhood was on the horizon, and Jo had made her intentions clear.

I know he’s right. If we can’t move past the history between us, working together is going to be painful for everyone around us and undoubtedly blow up in our faces. We owe it to our parents to not let that happen.

Looking over the rim of my glass, I take a sip of ice-cold IPA and watch the other customers from my hiding spot. The room isn’t big, but the bar itself curves around the room and I’m currently hidden behind the row of liquor bottles and glassware on the back bar.The sound of laughter, glasses clinking, and pool balls ricocheting off one another fills the room. It’s not a fancy establishment, and always smells like a strange combination of stale beer and fresh air.

A small group of people crowd around a couple of high-top tables, but my eyes are only drawn to one person.

Jo is wrapped up in some cream sweater dress that hugs every one of her sweet curves. The temptation to walk over there and run my hands across each dip and bend to test if the material is as soft as it looks is driving me crazy. From the way my knee is bouncing below the bar and how I’ve been half-hard since I spotted her, I’m unsure if going over there is the best thing to do right now.

Seeing her laughing in the middle of the stuffy bar is so different from the last time I saw her in one.

The moment I get her voicemail for what feels like the hundredth time, I hang up. I slowly lower my head to the countertop, the cool granite easing the pressure building between my eyes.

It’s been one month since I felt on top of the world. One moment and one kiss led to what I’d only ever dreamed of happening. Then another moment for that world to come crumbling down until all that remained was a pile of chaos and devastation.

It’s been one month since I last saw my dad. Three weeks since his funeral. And three weeks since she left.

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