Eric didn't seem like the type to accept rejection easily so the message that appeared on her phone as she was walking through her door half an hour after she'd bolted from his condo did not surprise her. She didn't expect the message she'd received though. It wasn't an angry thanks for wasting my time kind of note. It was the picture he'd taken of her in his library with one line of text under it.
This is why.
She stared at it for several seconds. The moonlight had softened her feature and the glow from their lovemaking was stamped all over her face. It made her look positively serene. She had to admit it was lovely. For a moment she almost felt beautiful. Almost.
Her resolved wavered as an image of the look that had been in his eyes as the elevator doors closed flashed through her mind. Guilt gnawed at her heart. She'd been the cause of that bleak look in those amazing gray eyes.
She clicked her phone off with a sigh and walked to her bedroom to pull her rumpled clothes off and dump them in the hamper next to her dresser. Her eyes scanned the cramped but tidy room as her breath escaped in a little huff.
"You did the right thing," she said softly as she left the bedroom and headed to the washroom.
Are you sure? She asked herself.
Her eyes ran over her reflection quickly. "Yep, pretty sure." She turned away to turn the water on in the tub, waited for the stream to heat up, then flipped the shower on and stepped in. Her body ached everywhere, reminding her with every movement just how well they'd fit together. Her hands moved over her skin slowly as her mind went back to the previous night. "Stop it," she said out loud.
What if he's telling the truth?
"Guys like that don't. Manipulation is in their DNA."
But—
"Shut up," she hissed then tilted her head back to rinse the shampoo from her hair. "Men like that use women like you for sport."
They're not all like that.
"Right." Her hand slammed the bottle of conditioner down into its place in the lineup of bottles sitting along the edge of the tub. It caught the edge, shot out of her hand to bang against the opposite side, bounced back, and nailed her right in the shin. "Son of a—" She grabbed it and set it down, with a little more care than the previous attempt, in the place she'd been aiming for. Her hands clenched for a moment. She took a breath and turned her back on the spray to rinse her hair. She shut off the water and grabbed a towel from the rack to wrap around herself while she used another to pat her hair.
She left the washroom to get dressed, took a glance at her phone as she pulled open a dresser drawer. There was a text from Eric waiting for her.
Meet me for coffee?
She lifted her finger away from the screen. Her hands grabbed the towel and pulled it away to drop on a stool next to the dresser. Her phone chimed.
Just coffee.
She bit her lip as she stared at the screen. After a minute she grabbed and typed a quick reply.
I don't think that's a good idea.
It chimed before she had a chance to set it down.
I just want to talk.
Her hand sank down toward the dresser to let the phone slide from her fingers with a little thump.
You have to keep your clothes on this time though.
She smiled for a moment before she caught herself and forced it from her lips. It was something that had been happening since the first note he'd sent her. Even on days when she felt like she'd never smile again a message from him was able to pull one to the surface with ease.
She reached towards the screen then pulled her hand back. Even after she'd decided that his intentions were not in her best interest she wasn't ready to let go. In the weeks of back and forth online she'd started to think of him as a friend. He'd been one of very few potential matches that hadn't pushed her to meet right away. To her damaged heart it seemed reassuring that he wanted to take a little time to get to know her. As the weeks passed they'd developed a little routine, messages in the morning, another around lunch, after work if he wasn't in a meeting, and if he hadn't been able to contact her after work he always sent a good night.
Jess?
She grabbed the phone and typed.
I'm thinking.
Okay. I'll just be over here, waiting.
Her finger hovered over the screen. He'd become a part of her life. She looked forward to those messages everyday. Even the quick little how was work today ones that to some people might be meaningless. He was the only guy who'd bothered to ask and she had to admit, it meant something to her.
I need time. She typed.
Are you free Monday?
Two days? Way to give a girl a second to gather her thoughts lol.
You can't blame me for trying. Friday?
Okay. Same place?
Sure. Meet you there at 5:30?
Sounds good.
She set the phone down, grabbed a pair of underwear from the top drawer, and slipped them on. Her phone chimed.
Are you going to class today?
She smiled as she typed her answer.
If you would let me get dressed yes lol
Sorry ;-) Have fun.
Thank you.
She turned away to track down a pair of yoga pants from the closest so she could finish getting dressed. After she'd managed to find a clean sports bra and comfy shirt she gathered her stuff up, snagged a granola bar from the kitchen, and left her little house to catch the train.
She made it to the station with a few minutes to spare and even managed to ignore the temptation of pulling her phone out while she waited. She couldn't avoid her own thoughts though. Without Eric's messages to sway her doubt bubbled up in the back of her mind. Why had she agreed to meet him? Why would she want to tempt herself that way? Sitting across one of those little tables trying not to remember what it was like to be in his arms was going to be torture.
The train arrived before she could continue. She gave her head a little shake, got on the train, and found a seat.
Stop it. She thought. You're a big girl. You can handle this.
Uh huh. So why'd you run?
***
It ended up being a week from hell. Anything that could go wrong at work did. She almost killed herself when she slipped on the steps while running out of her house on Wednesday morning. The fall and resulting scrapes caused her to be late for work. It was the first time in her adult life that she'd been late for work so her pride suffered the biggest injury of all.
On Thursday, after yet another night of tossing and turning, she had to talk herself out of calling in sick. In the end she used up some vacation time to go home early and indulge in a nap. Friday crawled by on its hands and knees, falling several times before finally dragging itself across the finish line by its belly.
At the end of the day she sat at her desk staring at the black screen in front of her. All around her co-workers called out goodbyes as they headed off to whatever weekend pursuits they had planned. She glanced down at her phone where it was laying on her desk. It was four thirty. She had plenty of time to get to the train and make the trip to the other side of the downtown core to reach the coffee shop. The screen lit up with a new message.
Just leaving the office. See you soon.
She swallowed then picked it up to type a response.
