Page 35 of Reconnected Hearts
I just wanted to check if you’re okay
I woke up and you were gone
It hurts.I don’t know why it hurts so bad. I miss her. Iwanther. But I know she doesn’t feel the same.
I glance over at Bartender Lucy, too tired to even fake a smile anymore.
“Her name is Lucy too, y’know. When you told me your name, I thought that it must be fate because what are the chances of someone named Lucy giving me relationship advice, right?” I swallow thickly, fighting the wobbling of my lower lip. “Guess fate showed me.”
Lucy smiles sympathetically and pats my shoulder before standing up. She picks up her backpack and swings it over her shoulder.
“You know,” she tells me, “Fate always seems to have a way of working things out, for better or worse. Don’t try to control it or try to make sense of it ’cause you can’t. Just do what your heart tells you to and hope for the best.” I nod, too choked up to try to say anything. “See you around, kid. Good luck with the girl.” She waves goodbye and leaves me alone, just a sad guy sitting on a sad street trying to answer a sad text message.
Just do what your heart tells you to and hope for the best.
Hoping for the best seems to be my only life strategy lately, but, hey, I guess it can’t really get any worse.
I’m fine
I’ll be back in the morning
I feel guilty being so short with her, but I don’t think I have a choice anymore. She’s not a bad guy. I’m not a bad guy.Fateis the bad guy.
Well, I’m tired of letting fate win. The game is over. I’m done playing.
CHAPTER19
LUCY
Iwait up all night for Noah. I wish I could say it’s out of worry, but that wouldn’t be quite true. It’s more so the nagging guilt gnawing relentlessly at me. The kind of guilt that is sickening. It’ll make your stomach tumble and your chest ache and your throat tighten. It’s absolutely miserable. Of course, I can’t blame anyone but myself. It was my own decision to give into temptation in the middle of the night and goad Noah into another night together. I know it was cruel. I know it wasbeyondunfair. I see the way he looks at me. I know this is more than pure desire to him and I shouldn’t have manipulated his feelings.
ButGod, he sure knows how to make the most of a night.
I’m not heartless. I didn’t go out of my way to mess with him and it makes me feel horrible to know that I caused enough damage to have him out wandering at all hours of the night.
Would I do it again?
Probably not.
Maybe.
Okay, it’s pretty likely.
All I can say is that he started it. It’s my job to finish it—“finish it” being subjective, of course. It could mean telling him I want nothing to do with him. Or it could mean tying him down with shoestrings and making him my pet. Both are equally valid.
That said, it’s a mix of relief and discomfort when he finally comes wandering home around dawn. He looks a mess, his hair tousled and his eyes weighed down by dark circles. I can see he has bruises around his wrist in the shape of my hands. That part makes me feel the worst. I have the horrible thought that I have become exactly what I despise—an animal only after pleasure, no matter how many people I hurt in the process of seeking it. I’m no better than Jace. I’m in disbelief that I let it get this far. I can’t say a word to Noah. I just hold his pained stare until he walks away, retreating into the bedroom and climbing into bed. I don’t think he ever actually went to sleep, though, because occasionally I peek in and find him staring aimlessly out of the window. He’s hiding from me, right here in plain sight.
When the time comes to head to the airport, Noah is already up and packed. He sits and watches me hurry to gather my things, and without so much as a word uttered, we leave the hotel side-by-side. It seems more like a duty to him than a desire to stay by my side, like he morally can’t leave me alone, but at the same time, he can’t wait to get the hell away from me.
I can’t say I blame him.
I think about apologizing, but what would I even say?Hey, sorry for tempting you into sleeping with me after I told you I want nothing to do with you? Absolutely not. That’s a good way to make thingsworse.I decide that my only real option is to put as much distance between us as possible, for his sake and my own. I clearly can’t be trusted around him, and it seems like my presence is only making this harder for him. So being sat next to each other on a plane isn’t exactly ideal.
We get to the airport and through security, then we find our gate and pick a couple of seats to waste the two hours in until our flight takes off. I bide my time, and when Noah goes to the bathroom, I hurry to the information desk.
“Excuse me?”
He looks up at me and smiles. “How can I help you, ma’am?”
