Bullet ✔️

Chapter 23

The cafe was only half full, thankfully, and the steaming cup of coffee in front of me warmed my hands in the otherwise chilled fall morning. It had been two days since my date with Damian, and I'd been debating how to talk to William for a while, until I decided to ask him to meet me here.

He sat across from me, sipping his own coffee with his light brown curls hitting his forehead. He eyed me suspiciously. So far we'd only talked about how we were doing, and the weather—which was good, except for the cold wind. Then he cleared his throat and said, "I know why you asked me to come here, Isabelle, and it's okay. Sometimes things don't work out."

I sighed, a little relieved he understood. "I'm sorry," I muttered, taking a sip from my drink.

"I hope we can be friends, though, since I'm pretty sure my mom really wants your dad, and she usually gets what she wants." He chuckled and raised his mug up, taking a large gulp. "No, I'm sorry too. I like you a lot, but I saw the other night that the other guy made you feel a lot more in those few minutes, than I had in weeks. It was pretty obvious. I mean, I hoped it could change, but...nah, we're good, Isabelle."

A tiny piece of my heart cracked, because he was such a nice guy and I was being a bitch.

"I wanna be friends," I said, leaning over to put my hand over his, sending him a smile for the first time that day.

"Great," he said, putting his hand over mine instead, rubbing his thumb over mine. "I mean, I'm sad we couldn't be more than friends, because you're beautiful and lovely, like bolognese, but you can't choose who you fall for. I just hope he makes you happy."

Even when I was ending our short sort-of-relationship, he talked a lot, and there wasn't a bad word in the same thought process in his mind. I couldn't help but feel bad, for both him and myself. Him because I'd strung him along and used him to get over my crush on Damian. And me because I couldn't fall for someone as kindhearted and lovely as William. But...whoever did, along the line, would be extremely lucky. I said as much and got up to hug him, before we said goodbye for now, and I walked home with a tear running down my cheek. Because it was sad when two people decided they couldn't be together, no matter the circumstances.

I had a glass of red wine, some salty potato chips and my laptop open to do some work, when my phone rang. I expected it to be a client, so when I saw it was dad, I smiled.

He greeted me the way he usually did, with a, "Hey, little girl," and I sat back on the couch with my wine glass, and pointed to camera first to my laptop, and then to me and my wine glass, and said, "You interrupted a very nice evening, dad."

He only laughed. Whenever he called me, it was a video call. And I called normally, when it was the other way around. It was sort of our unspoken rule—no matter how important the reason for the call was. I liked it.

"Oh, but I have heard some devastating news, kid." He made a movement with his free hand where he sat on the worn out sofa, two fingers on his eyes, then mine, like he was watching me. "Billy said you dumped him! What am I going to do with you?"

"I didn't dump him!" I protested, taking a sip of wine to buy myself more time to think about my words. "We both agreed that if I didn't catch any feelings, we should let go."

"Well, he seemed pretty down today." He sighed, and I almost asked what he was doing, why he was there, but I remembered his mother probably asked him to deliver more flowers to my dad. "Was he at least a good gateway? Did you use protection? Not that I'd mind having a mini Billy 'round here, he'd be a decent father, I guess, compared to that dark and brooding guy you were pining after.. What was his name again?"