Page 63 of Rude Boss 2

I blink away tears and reach up to touch his face, laying my hands on his beard. He closes his eyes, allowing me to do so.

I whisper, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

He opens his eyes. In them, I see sadness. I see hurt. I see pain. I also see relief. He says, “And I still can’t believe I found you.”

I close my arms around his torso and cry. This is too much for me to bear.

“Don’t do that,” he says, but that’s one order I won’t be obeying. My emotions are all over the place. It’s the reason I didn’t want to come up here in the first place, but he found a way to get me to his office. So, I’m going to cry all I want. I’ll cry for the way I felt when I couldn’t find him, because I looked. He needs to know that. Tearfully, I say, “I came back…for you. I did. Your parents…they wouldn’t tell me anything.”

“That’s my fault. I told them not to tell anyone about my new identity. I didn’t want anyone to know who I used to be. Had I known you’d come back, I would’ve made an exception.”

I sniffle and try to get myself together, but it’s not happening. “You don’t understand how much I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Tessie,” he says. “Stop squeezing me so hard so you can look at me.”

“I don’t want to stop squeezing you. I want to squeeze you forever.”

“Baby…”

I hold on and think about us—about how we were back then and how much I miss hanging with him. I never knew I could miss someone this much. My father was right. I’ve been holding out hope, waiting for a chance to be with Stewart again, and neglecting every other man who came my way. I wantedthis– this immeasurable feeling of being with the person God made for me.

It’s him.

I don’t care what his name is now or who he’s become.

It’s him.

He’s my person.

I pull away from him. My face is soaked, but I don’t care. I kiss his lips and remember the first time I ever kissed him.

He smiles.

I smile through the rainstorm my eyes have produced. “How am I supposed to work now?” I ask him.

“You can take the rest of the day off, Tessie.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve had enough days off last week.”

“Well, since Mrs. Wilburn knows you’re on a special assignment, I can put you in one of the small conference rooms up here until you can stop crying.”

“I don’t know when that’ll be.”

He pulls me into his arms again and says, “I have four meetings back-to-back. I won’t be able to see you for the rest of the day.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine.” He’s agitated. Conflicted. “We need to talk and be together alone outside of work. What are you doing after work?”

“I’ll be at my parent’s for dinner again.”

“Tell them I’m coming.”

I laugh and then ask, “Did you just invite yourself to dinner?”

“Yes. I need to reacquaint myself with them, too, don’t you think? They’re going to be seeing a lot of me.”

I nod and release a satisfied sigh.

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