Page 103 of Perfect Pursuit

Subject: What you inspire others to create

You think you’re a winner, but you’re just a mess

Lost in the details, can’t even guess

You’re playing a game you just can’t win

Messed with her heart, man, you’re too dim, uh uh

Her third message was much more direct.

To: “Whiskey”

From: “Q?za”

Subject: Back OFF!

Stop trying to dig up information about her. You no longer have that right.

Do not make me come after you.

That one, I wrote back to.

To: “Q?za”

From: ”Whiskey”

Subject: Re: Back OFF!

I fucked up. I need to make it right.

Her next email reply was a bunch of laughing emojis followed by:

To: “Whiskey”

From: “Q?za”

Subject: Back OFF!

Wear your body armor. You’re going to need it.

Tossing back a slug of water, and not the whiskey I’ve been sating myself with so I can get some sleep night after night when memories of Fallon bombard me before I sleep, I pull up the text string between us that’s gone on for five years. Since she blocked me, I’ve been re-reading a little at a time trying to figure out if she’s given me any indication on how to get back in her good graces.

Last night I reread the section about how I should have been there myself if I was jealous of my older brother holding her so close at my niece’s birthday party in New York. “You were right, witch.” Right about so many things, but I never told you that, did I?

Berating myself, I scan my apartment above my shop, trying to think if there’s anything I can bring to convince her of what she means to me. Something that will show her how much I’m sorry? Or will words be enough? I’m still wondering if there’s even a possibility of her forgiving me for the shit I spewed?

Then there’s the clawing fear she blanks out on me in the same manner she did that night and turns and leaves.

Cursing the fact the earliest flight I can get to Asheville is tomorrow morning, I’m doing everything I can to be prepared to head out the second the family dinner Paige organized at my father’s house is over and done. I plan on staying at the airport tonight, placing myself one step closer to her. I don’t care if I don’t sleep. All that matters is being on Fallon’s doorstep the minute she opens her eyes.

Until then, I’m rereading our conversations since her graduation at Seven Virtues, in between the times I’d fly out to see her. Each and every one made me recognize how carelessly I destroyed her trust and, more importantly, her love.

Fallon:

What do you want to do to me?

Ethan:

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