Page 89 of Selfish Desires

“Sincere? He was sincere when he left me the second time after he promised he wouldn’t?” The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. I masked the hurt with a bitter chuckle, crossing my arms over my stomach protectively.

“Vincent did tell you what his plans were the second time. I’m not trying to defend him, but maybe he’s changed.” Blair entered the room fully and sat on the mattress’ edge.

“People don’t change, Blair,” I retorted slowly, rising to my feet. “They just become more of who they really are.”

“Ouch.” Blair winced. “I never thought of it that way.” She glanced down at her open palms.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off harsh.” I ran my hands through my knotty hair, wondering when I took a shower last. “Fine, if you want to know the truth, I miss Vincent like crazy. And now that I’m pregnant…” I trailed off, fighting the fat tears threatening to spill over my lids.

“Hey, Wendy. It’s okay if you speak to Vincent. No one is going to judge you if you want him back.”

“I don’t care what anyone thinks.” I wiped the wetness from my eyes. “It’s what I want. And I’m not sure what I want.”

Suddenly, my phone vibrated on the nearby nightstand, breaking the tension in the room. Blair raised her brows at me and nodded toward the device. With a heavy sigh, I picked it up, already knowing who the caller was: Vincent.

“Should I answer?” I held the phone in front of Blair, displaying his name boldly across the screen.

Blair shrugged. “It’s entirely up to you, Wendy.”

I took a deep breath as my finger hovered over the green button, my heart pounding in my ears. Every day for the last month, Vincent had called me easily three times a day and sent persistent text messages, even emails. I didn’t have it in me to accept any of his attempts.

“But I'm scared, Blair.” My voice was a whisper now. “I'm scared to let him back in.”

“I know. And your feelings are totally valid. Plus, this is kind of wild, all your favorite things showing up to our apartment every day. It’s almost like a game.” Blair smiled and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you decide, we're here for you.”

I exhaled a deep breath, my finger still poised above the screen. As the phone vibrated in my hand, my mind began to race with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. What would I say? Would I break down and tell him everything?

And then an image of Vincent's face flashed before my eyes—the way his brow furrowed in worry whenever I was upset, or his eyes sparkled when he laughed. Most importantly, they reflected the unmistakable love whenever he gazed at me.

The ringing stopped abruptly and was replaced by the voicemail tone. I had missed the call. Blair gave a slight sigh as she stood from the bed.

“I'll go deal with the flowers and everything else,” she muttered, almost relieved I hadn't picked up.

Left alone in the room, my fingers danced over the screen as I pulled up Vincent's number. My heart pounded like a war drum in my chest as I pressed the dial button, holding the phone to my ear.

It rang once...twice...then three times. As it clicked over to voicemail, my heart sank. But instead of hanging up, I found myself speaking into the void.

“Vincent... it's Wendy,” I started uneasily. My voice wavered slightly as I continued, “I think...I think we need to talk.”

As I ended the call, a small sense of calm washed over me. Yes, many unanswered questions and fears still lingered within, but at least now I had taken a step forward, one that offered a glimmer of resolution, whatever that may be.

In the silence of my room, Blair's words rang true—we can't run from our feelings forever. And now, it was time to face them. For the first time in months, I felt a spark of hope fluttering in my heart. Vincent's past had pushed us apart once, but perhaps we could still find our way back to each other. But this time, it wouldn't be for him—it'd be for me. It'd be for us.

I hopped up from the bed, and to my surprised delight, I felt great. No nausea, the world wasn’t spinning, no sudden cold sweats…nothing. I was back to living and not just existing. Not wanting to waste this renewed energy, I hopped into the shower, letting the gentle shower head release warm water all over my body, cleansing every part of my being and soul.

As the water cascaded down, washing away my fears, I thought about Vincent. Memories of our time together flickered like an old film reel. The laughs we shared, the stolen kisses, the shattering goodbyes. I allowed myself to feel it all—the joy, the pain, the longing.

Eventually, I emerged from the steamy shower and wrapped myself in a soft towel. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and saw someone growing stronger each day. Someone ready to face her past with courage and grace.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a white sweater, making my way to the kitchen when the smell of fresh roses hit my nose. Blair arranged the sixth vase of blood-red roses on the kitchen table. She glanced up as I entered, and a knowing smile tugged at her lips.

“Feel better?” she asked, the light in her eyes shimmering.

“I do,” I admitted, as a genuine smile spread across my face, my hands running through my damp hair.

Blair set the last rose in place and straightened up to face me. “Good, because I want to talk to you about something.” She bolted to the espresso machine, filling two mugs—one decaf, the other regular—and brought them to the table. “Here, sit.” Blair motioned for me to sit in the breakfast nook.

“I feel like I’m in trouble,” I joked, taking a hot sip of the smooth coffee. Even decaf coffees Blair mastered where no one would know the difference.

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