I nod, then I press delete without listening to his message, again.
It's childish, but I just can't deal with the fallout yet.
Jen settles beside me on the couch. “You think you'll talk to him soon? Maybe some closure would help?” She pats my hand. “Ti, we can tell you're hurting, honey, and we just want to help. What can we do? Tell us that you don't want to see him, talk to him, deal with all of this, and it's done. We will take care of it all.”
“I know you would.”
Glory and Evelyn come and sit with us. They all hug me. Being wrapped in their arms should be comforting, but it feels lacking after having been in Rim’s.
“I have to be an adult and clean up my own mess. I just didn't expect to feel this way about him. Y'all, I love him.”
I begin to cry as my girls squeeze me tighter.
I will pick myself up and move on. Not back to my list, though.
If my time with Rim taught me anything, it’s that I wasn't really living. I was working toward a goal that didn't do anything to improve my life. He showed me what I was missing. Enjoying the moment, loving, living.
The tears come faster. But just for tonight. Tomorrow, it’s a new day.
My heart hurts, but these girls, they’ll hold my pieces together for me until I can.
28
RIMMINGTON
Two weeks. Two long weeks of unanswered calls and messages. I’m losing my fucking mind waiting for her to talk to me. After she saw Isadora and me that night, I have tried everything I can think of to get through to her. She left without so much as a good-bye. That hurt more than I thought it would. I never got to explain or tell her how I really feel about her.
She’s shut me out, but I bloody well can’t blame her.
Even the girls were having no part of me trying to explain. They’re a bit scary. Especially that little spitfire, Evelyn. She told me she’d do things to my testicles that I’d never even heard of before.
An inventive one that Evelyn is.
It was best to let Christina have her space. Not two weeks of it, though.
I pace in my office, just as I have done all morning. I check my phone. Nothing.
Her social media pages—still blocked.
Bloody hell.
A knock at the door finally stops my pacing.
“Come in.”
The door pushes open. I hold my breath.
Please…be her…
“Good morning, son. Did you forget we were scheduled to have breakfast this morning?”
I look up at Father. He examines me with that same look of pity in his eyes that’s resided there the last couple of weeks. I can only imagine what he sees. My hair is an unkempt mess. I haven’t shaved. I haven’t really slept, or eaten.
I believe the term is called love sick.
“Sorry, Father. Was that today?” I move to my desk to look at my planner. I can’t remember anything anymore.
“Yes, Rimmington, but that’s okay. I took the liberty of asking Diana to order us something in.”