Page 62 of Love Her

Chapter 28

Felicity

Two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Over three hundred hours.

It’s been two weeks since I’ve spoken to or seen Connor. Two weeks of living with a hole in my heart. How is it possible for one person to affect you so significantly? When I’m left with my thoughts, I forget to breathe. The loss of him in my life too difficult to face. He became so much a part of my life in such a short period of time, and in an instant, he cut me out of his.

I should have known when Ashton walked into the store something bad would happen. Like oil and water, we don’t mix. Her accusations weren’t unexpected. Ashton is fiercely protective of those she cares about. She’s willing to throw down at any opportunity if it will save someone else from having to do it. Privately, I’ve respected that about her. Envied the people she cares about.

Connor shouldn’t have heard the words I spoke. Or, rather, I shouldn’t have said them in the first place. Regardless, I wasn’t saying them with any truth. If he never bought me a candy bar again I’d be okay with it. If we only ever held hands and talked late into the night, I’d be with him anyway. He hasn’t allowed me the chance to tell him that. No, instead he’s ghosted me. Blocked me from his life.

Baseball has been awkward at best but he’s still gracious to my son and has spoken kindly to Clem. My mom knows our relationship is over, and while she’s tried to be supportive and encouraging, I think even she has accepted the end. If it truly had a chance to begin. I thought I could speak to him at his appointments with Brian. That he’d be forced to at least say something, let me apologize. But he canceled the two appointments following the fallout. Then, as luck would have it, Gigi went into labor yesterday and all appointments have been pushed out until next week to allow Brian time with his new family.

Although we aren’t seeing patients, I’m still working. While I can always find something to do in the office, it’s also a reprieve from being at home. Here, at least I can distract myself and not mope. Or as my mom likes to call it “wallow in my feelings.” She also pointed out I was not nearly this upset at the implosion of my marriage.

That’s a very telling point and one I have thought a lot about. I loved Michael. Early in our relationship I was head over heels for him. Or at least I think I was. He courted the hell out of me and made me believe fairy tales were real. Then one day it was different. Life as promised ceased to exist, but I was all in. Sucked into a world I thought I needed to survive.

With Connor, it was never about things or promises. It was about being. Feeling important and seen. For the first time in my adult life, I didn’t feel like I had to work hard. Being with him was seamless. Effortless.

The tears come easily with heartbreak. My heart is like a dam cracked with a slow leak. A never ending stream of my loss pouring out of me at any given time. Like now. As I wipe down the treatment tables and stock the supplies in each room. I could blame the industrial cleaner or the dust but that would be a lie.

A familiar ringing pulls my attention from the task at hand. Abandoning the supplies, I venture to the front of the office where my cell phone sits. Unknown caller. Again. I need to get online and add my number back on that do not call list. Hitting ignore, I toss the phone in my purse before returning to my cleaning.

Hours after I started, I’ve managed to wipe down every available surface in the building and reschedule a few appointments. I’m exhausted. It’s too early to go home and wallow in my feelings. A trip to my favorite shopping location is bound to lift my spirits. Closing up the office, I stroll slowly to my car. Which takes not long since it’s parked in front of the building. Regardless, I take my time.

Pushing the empty cart through the aisles, I absently look at each shelf. Do I need anything? No. Will I probably leave here a hundred bucks poorer? Guaranteed. Perusing the clearance shelf in cosmetics, I read each label of every nail polish bottle. Tangerine Surprise. No thanks. Starlet Red. Yes ma’am. Tossing the bottle in my basket, I turn my cart toward hair accessories and run into someone.

Of course I do.

“I’m so—”

“Hello, Felicity.”

“Michael.” My voice is a whisper.

Shock and confusion keep me from speaking at full level. From moving the cart. My feet are cemented in place as I try to reconcile his presence.

“I can’t believe you’re shopping here. It’s so . . . basic.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, my efforts to reach you by phone have been unsuccessful. We need to have a conversation. Come, let’s go sit in that hovel of a coffee shop area.”

Like he has so many times in the years I’ve known him, Michael grips my elbow, leaving my cart and beautiful red polish behind. Guiding me through the store toward the coffee stand, he places an order for us both. Nobody would guess we were married for so many years. The man has no idea what type of coffee I drink. Moving to a nearby table, I sit down and wait for him to join me.

So many questions run through my mind. Why is he here? Is he going to see the kids? Should I let him see the kids? He’s their father and the fact that I’m even wondering that is sad.

“Here you are. A skinny latte.”

Taking the cup he places in front of me, I lift the flavorless coffee to my lips, I take a tentative sip. It isn’t bad but would be a lot better if it had a splash of vanilla.

“Why are you here, Michael?”

While he assesses me, I enjoy the fact that he hates everything I embody in this new phase of my life. My hair is longer and darker than he’s used to, preferring it short and very blonde. My eyes are swollen from the tears I’ve shed the last two weeks and my makeup is non-existent. Gone are the designer brand clothes and expensive jewelry.

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