A Love Like Ours

Chapter 11

"So, it's been three days since she got here, and you haven't reached out?" Jeff asked, sipping his beer.

I shook my head, my last of bite of food going down like a wad of gum. And I'd been on edge all week because of it. Restless because I knew she was here, and readily available to me whenever I said the word. But also terribly, terribly torn.

And it was only that frustration that had led me to get out of the house. To agree to lunch with Jeff. He was the first person aside from Julian I'd told about the entire situation with Madelyn—everything from the wedding, to the news of her engagement, to the way I'd left, and the way she'd shown up not a whole week later. And it was still hard to look at him and know what he must be thinking, know that he must pity me and everything she'd put me through. So I hadn't told another soul. Not yet. Not until I was ready.

Not until I knew what was going to happen.

The past three days had been spent in a quiet sort of torture—not the silent decimation that knowing she would never be mine again left me in, but a constant back and forth that tore me down and built me right back up, only for the process to begin all over again.

I wanted to see her.

The last thing I wanted was to see her.

I wanted to talk to her.

But I never wanted to talk to her again.

I needed the truth.

I didn't think I'd be able to handle the truth with any sense of understanding or grace or compassion.

And she was here.

She was here, she was here, she was here.

But I couldn't see her the same way ever again.

"Well... that's cool," Jeff said, leaning back in his seat and tipping his beer back. "You don't have to see her, you know. Even if she did come all the way here."

I couldn't help my wince. The sun was shining, we were sitting outside at one of my favorite restaurants, and I was thankful for my sunglasses because they hid the constant loop of pain and confusion in my eyes.

"I know," I said, pushing around the uneaten food on my plate. I'd only taken a handful of bites.

Jeff studied me. "But you want to."

I shrugged, looking down even though he couldn't see my eyes through my glasses. "Can't help it," I muttered.

"So, see her," Jeff said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "You've gotta find out what brought all this on at some point, anyway. Might as well be while she's here."

I sipped my water, the condensation on the glass dripping into my palm. He wasn't saying anything I hadn't already thought.

"How long you think you're gonna make her wait?"

I sighed and snapped, "I don't know!" Jeff went quiet. "I'm still... I'm trying to figure all of this out."

"Alright dude," Jeff said, eyes wide now, placating. "It's cool, man."

"Sorry," I said, but I didn't really mean it. Being outside, having to converse—all of it was a chore, and I wished I'd gone to Julian's like I'd originally planned. But when Jeff had texted asking to grab lunch, I figured today was as good a day as any to tell someone the truth and get it over with. One down, too many to go.

"Don't apologize," he said, leaning forward now, his elbows on the table. "Have you... have you thought about, maybe..."

"What?" I asked when he trailed off.