Page 60 of The Reading

Iwas staring at his front door, my heart beating a mile a minute, trying to drum up the courage to knock on the decorated wood. Eating crow was not a fun thing to do, and I had a lot of it to eat.

I had stayed up all night, feeling like crap, and I knew that the only way that I could ever get a good night’s sleep again was to apologize for being an asshole. After going to his office and being turned away because I didn’t have an appointment, I had searched the internet for his address, but the good doctor’s privacy was well intact. There were a million ways to contact him, but I was not about to apologize in a freakin’ email or Yelp review.

So, desperate, I had told Ellen about our argument, then had begged for his address, so that I could apologize in person. Granted, I hadn’t told her the details because I hadn’t wanted her to feel bad, but I had told her enough to make her give me his address. I had his number as an emergency contact, but I hadn’t been about to abuse that privilege. I also knew that Crystal Gardens had all his personal information on file, but I hadn’t wanted to apologize enough to lose my job by invading a patient’s privacy.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on his door, praying that he wasn’t going to call the cops as soon as he saw me standing on his front porch. To my surprise, Taylor didn’t live in a high-rise or mansion. Nope. Instead of spending all his wealth on a flashy car and expensive house, the man lived in the same house that he’d grown up in. After Ellen had moved to Crystal Gardens, Taylor had moved into her house, not willing to part with his childhood memories just yet.

When no one came to the door, I knocked again, laughing to myself because I didn’t even know if the man was home or not. Thanksgiving was tomorrow, and he could be a work, catching up before the long holiday weekend, or with friends, celebrating everything that he was thankful for.

I was reaching up to give it one last try, but I quickly pulled my fist backwhen I heard the sounds of the locks disengaging. Blood started rushing through my ears, and I could feel my palms begin to sweat. He had every right to spit in my face and send me on my way, and I could only hope that he didn’t.

The door swung open, and Taylor’s brown eyes widened with shock. “What the fuck?” he mouthed, his bedside manner nonexistent right now. “What in the hell are you doing here?” His head glanced around, looking for the joke. “How do you know where I live?”

“Ellen,” I answered, enough said.

“And why on earth would she tell you where I lived?” he asked. “And why would you ask?” He sounded seriously confused, and I didn’t blame the man.

He also looked hot as hell. He must have just gotten out of the shower because he was dressed in only a pair of jeans, no shirt, and his feet were bare. Talk about not being able to concentrate with broad shoulders, hard pecs, six-pack abs, and tattoos staring back at you.

Sweet Baby Jesus.

Going for broke, I told him why I was here. “I…I came to apologize-”

“You came to my house to apologize?” he asked incredulously, his head swiveling around again, looking for…well, I wasn’t sure what. “You couldn’t have just waited until the next time that I visited my mother?”

I’d never felt so unwelcomed before, but I deserved it, so…there was that. “Not if I wanted to be able to sleep at night,” I replied honestly. “Last night was a bitch.”

Taylor cocked his head, his fingers tightening around the edge of the door. “So, you’re here to makeyourselffeel better,” he remarked. “Because isn’t that what apologies are for? They’re to make the asshole feel little less like an asshole, right?”

Ouch.

Granted, I had been acting like an asshole, and I realized that this entire exchange could be worse, so I decided to just take the verbal lashing. If he didn’t forgive me, then that was fine. After all, an apology was the act of acknowledging and admitting that you were wrong. There wasn’t an obligation for the other person to accept your apology. An apology was simply a way to be able to live with yourself, telling yourself that at least you tried.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I’m here because I feel like crap, and I’m not looking to keep feeling that way. However, I’m also here because I was wrong. I’m here because I was wrong on a lot of fronts. Judging people, making assumptions about situations that I know nothing about…there’s a whole list.”

“Fine,” he bit out. “You’ve apologized.”

I lowered my head because, unfortunately, I deserved worse.

*****

Taylor~

She was looking at her shoes, and guilt was trying to creep its way into my gut. I had to remind myself that she was in the wrong here, not me. Yeah, it took a lot of guts to show up at my house, but if she hadn’t been a jerk to begin with, then none of this would be necessary.

When her brown eyes looked back up at me, she said, “Before I go, I just want you to know that I told your mom about what happened. I…I didn’t tell her the details, but I told her enough for her to give me your address.”

“Enough?”

“I…I told her that I said some unfair things to you, and that I wanted to apologize for assumptions about something that was none of my business.” I could feel that goddamn guilt again. “I just…I wanted to let you know, so that you’re not blindsided the next time that you visit her.”

It sucked that she was a jerk, but that I was still attracted to her. It sucked that her passion for her job made her noble, and her face at my doorstep made her brave. It sucked that my mother thought the world of her. So many things sucked about my relationship with this woman, and I had no idea how to fix it. Even as pissed off as I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about this woman, and that was a super bad sign.

“I’m stopping by to see her tomorrow,” I told her. “I’ll talk to her then.”

She gave me a solemn nod. “Okay…well, that’s all I wanted to say.”

“Really? That’s it?” For some reason, I wanted her to grovel some more. I wanted to believe that she really was sorry. Like a fucking kindergartener, I wanted her to want to be my friend.

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