Page 8 of Undone, Love Times Three

Abby sighs. “You can’t let one hiccup put you off. You came so far agreeing to this date. I feel like it’s my fault.”

“How can it possibly be your fault?”

I get up and walk to the front window looking out at the other houses on the cul-de-sac where I live. It’s a nice, quiet neighborhood. Being able to buy a house here was one of my biggest adult achievements.

If only I could find a romantic partner who wants me, for me, and wants to stay.

“Well, you should put a complaint in with that dating agency,” Abby says sadly. “What are you doing now?”

“Drinking tea and planning Krissy’s wedding flowers.”

“Oh no.” I can almost picture her pouting. “Do you want to go get a drink? I can leave the kids with Dirk’s mom.”

“No, I’m not in the mood to go out again. Don’t worry about me. I’ve got things to keep me busy for now.”

“Well, okay. Kate and Karl have been extra clingy today,” she says about her kids. “They wouldn’t settle without me. You will not give up on dating, right?”

“Maybe for this week,” I say, appeasing her.

I’m too embarrassed to tell her about Ryan. Abby would understand, she knows how awkward I can be sometimes. She’d find it funny, then go hunt him down and tell him to give me a second chance.

We end the call, arranging a coffee date next week when the kids are at daycare.

Sitting on the couch, I throw myself backwards, and stare up at the ceiling.

Wishful thinking is bad for the soul. It’s time to forget about Ryan. And Henry, the ass.

And just move on.

Four

Ryan

Laying on the bed in my bunk at the firehouse, I stare up at the ceiling, one hand resting on my stomach, the other locked behind my head. It’s been two days. Two whole days. And she’s left me on ‘read’ on our text chat.

I mean, I thought we had a good time. We seemed to hit it off, and she never said don’t call me again. I’ve heard of this happening. I’m not that vain. It can happen to me. I’m genuinely surprised she hasn’t even bothered replying.

There was that hesitancy about her. It felt like we got over that. Apparently not. Maybe she does this to all the guys she dates? No, I didn’t get that sense about her. Maybe she’s just shy, or afraid of taking the next steps.

It’s my day off tomorrow. I could go to her flower shop. She said it was called Love In Bloom. Sitting up, I grab my phone off the side table. I should be sleeping. I’ve been up all day doing some work around the house when I should have been getting rest for my night shift.

All around me, the other guys are sleeping, or just resting on their bunks. Sitting upright, you can see over the cubicle walls around each small ‘room’ we’re allocated. The walls are enough to give you some semblance of privacy.

We’ve been told that they’re going to refurbish the station at some point and create more private rooms, double occupancy though. It’s not a hotel, as the Chief keeps telling us. I’m not sure where they’re gonna get this elusive space. I’m so used to this set up, it’ll be weird as hell getting an actual room to sleep in between call outs.

Being a firefighter was always my life’s dream. It wasn’t all about following in the family’s footsteps. I like the job, I love saving people and the adrenalin rush of running into a burning building excites me. I’m not a complete dickhead, safety comes first and I take my job seriously.

Anyone caught in a fire relies on me. Being an adrenalin junkie is dangerous, and stupid. I’ve known firefighters like that before. Cocky assholes who brag about what they can do, or make stupid choices.

First and foremost, the men and women working alongside you should be your priority, then the people you are there to help, not your own ego.

It doesn’t take long to find the Love in Bloom website. The memory of her saying everyone orders their flowers online thesedays makes me smile a little. You can order off her website. But she has a brick-and-mortar store. And it’s near to here.

Question is, do I want to risk going there and making a complete ass of myself. She isn’t answering my texts for a reason. I want to know what that reason is. I’m a curious guy, leaving things unfinished isn’t my style. Does my need for understanding what went wrong override her need to not see me again?

God, this shit shouldn’t be so hard. If I have to work for it at this early stage, then it’s not meant to be.

Someone farts across the room and a snicker follows. When you have a group of men sleeping together in the same room, you hear all kinds of things. Fortunately, there is never anyone jacking off. That shit would get stopped in a heartbeat.

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