Page 7 of Love Me In Color

We ended up attending the same university about an hour and a half from home, and our relationship dynamic immediately shifted once we were no longer under my dad's watchful eyes and our mother's hopeful wishes. Things between us got…complicated. Every touch started to carry meaning. Every glance held a certain heat to it.

At the end of our senior year of college, even though neither of us could see color, we gave up fighting against our feelings. Everything moved quickly, and we moved in together a few months after our college leases expired. We made a home in a small apartment about ten minutes from our office and thirty minutes from the street we had grown up on.

For years, I was convinced Erik was the one. The one to make me see color. The man I would marry. My crush on him had followed me my entire life, and I had eyes for no one else. I saw nothing but the grey world in front of me, but my heart was convinced I could live a happily ever after with him in a colorless world.

However, the more decisions I made in the interest of my career, the more we started to fight. Our friendship and relationship had always been volatile, but it became even more so in our last few months together. Doors would slam, things would be thrown, and Erik would storm off angrily to the couch while I surrounded myself in the shower's hot water to cry. I wasn’t willing to give up on us yet; we had too much history and too many dreams, but my passion was intertwined with my job, so when the opportunity to move came up, I jumped on it. I begged Erik to come with me, but he refused.

Regardless of the decades of friendship, the memories we had made together, and the love I thought we shared, things between us ended horribly and loudly. Erik’s eyes and attitude silently betrayed his valiant effort to hide his anger at Connor for choosing me over him until he spat it at me during our last argument. I left him and our home behind three years ago, and we never even said goodbye. The world I thought I knew and the future I thought I would have disappeared in my rearview mirror.

Since then, we have only interacted professionally. We never discussed what happened, and I never intended to talk to him about it. Our working relationship was productive enough and mostly confined to email and the occasional group meeting. We both loved our jobs, so I believed this would all work out. It was only twelve weeks.

“But he didn’t give you any colors…right?” Richard begged for confirmation. After two years of dating, I never even got to see the color of the sky.

I nodded.

“I’m probably worrying over nothing,” my tone exposed my lack of confidence. “It’s been three years. I don’t care about him beyond doing good work. It’s just a lot.”

“You’re both professionals, and this is a great opportunity for all of us. I’m sure it’ll be fine. As far as you and me, don’t worry, I won’t say anything, but what we’re doing isn’t wrong or forbidden.”

“I know, but I don’t like people in the office knowing my business too much after what happened. Outside of you and Nathaniel, I don’t think anyone even knows my phone number.”

Richard nodded and gave me an unconvinced smile. We had been casually seeing each other for a few months here and there, and I mostly enjoyed myself, but there were no signs of color. Between him and Erik, I was starting to convince myself that the greyscale was here to stay.

Chapter Three

Saturday afternoon.

Nine days before.

Gabby crashed on the fluffy chair next to the couch with the loudest sigh I had ever heard from her. She was drained from the week and dealing with the intense crowds from a bridal expo down the street from the café. Thankfully, she had finally hired enough people she trusted to run the café on the weekends without her.

Her long, curly hair was pulled into a messy bun, and some ringlets hadn’t managed to stay pulled back. She grabbed one of the three glasses of wine on the coffee table and one of the muffins she reheated from yesterday’s batch. There were bags under her eyes, and she had been stressed, so the nail polish on her fingers was chipped.

Our friend Mason sat on the opposite edge of our upholstered couch. His lanky frame hunched over a lap desk with a mess of papers strewn on it. Occasionally, he would mutter curses at having assigned his students a two-thousand-word essay about the American Revolution. His grading marker swooshed over the papers every twenty seconds, marking what was most likely spelling errors or wrong information.

Initially, we were going to go out to the movies, but we were all exhausted and wanted to stay in. Gabby and I debated what we were in the mood to watch. She wanted a horror movie, but I wanted a cartoon. Our moods seemed to be very different. Mason was too frustrated to give us a deciding opinion and barely listened to our debate.

Gabby made an executive decision to watch one of her favorite movies. I didn’t mind too much since we rarely actually watched or listened to the movie. It was more of background noise to our hours of ranting and conversation.

“So, you and Richie will be working on the project together then? I bet he’s excited about that.” Gabby said.

“Yeah…Connor is testing him for the promotion to the national level once we expand.”

“Gross.”

“Be nice.”

“I don’t know what you see in him. Just being around him sucks the life out of me.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” I laughed.

From the minute they saw each other at a company Christmas party that Nathaniel and I dragged Gabby to, she and Richard hated each other. It was the opposite of love at first sight. Gabby was a vibes-and-energy person, so I always chalked it up to something related to that. I had no idea why Richard returned her hate.

“He’s just gross and gives me the creeps. Plus, I think it’s super unfair to you that he gets to screw around and see other people while you guys are sort of together.”

“Gabby, our agreement isn’t one-sided. I’m also free to see other people. I just don’t have time to, nor am I sure I actually want to.”

I wasn’t committed to Richard, but I liked him well enough over the last few months that we had been going on dates. It had moved from small flirts on the rare occasions we worked together to him asking me for lunch on a random Friday. He had made it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything exclusive up front, which didn’t bother me. I was dedicated to my job. My life was typically consumed anyway. Richard understood that, so it worked well between us.

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