Perhaps, I just needed perspective.Yes, it was a small town, but what was the likelihood of me running into him?It had to be pretty low.If we found ourselves at the same establishment, we’d just avoid each other.
This could be good.He couldn’t surprise me again.Now that I knew he was here I’d always be on guard.
I turned onto my driveway and came to an abrupt halt.At the sight of long legs no longer clad in tie-dye, I almost put my car in reverse.Even from this distance, with his back to me, I’d recognize him anywhere.
“What fresh hell is this?”I demanded.
Standing outside of my front door with his shoulders shrugged toward his ears and his hands buried into the pockets of his jeans was Remi.
I was torn between apprehension, and the knowledge that he’d violated my privacy this way.How did he get my address?Was it from my paperwork?But why?There was no way he wanted to relive that awkward encounter.I sure as hell didn’t.
He wasn’t even wearing a coat, just a long-sleeve, navy T-shirt.
Parking under my carport, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel before deciding that I’d just let him know to forget my address.Whatever reason brought him to my front door, he could take it back home with him.
I didn’t need to know ...
I kinda wanted to know ...
It could at least wait until tomorrow when I wasn’t in such a weird state of mind.
Furgie and I hurried through the side door into the kitchen with it’s dark cabinets and a stack of broken-down cardboard boxes stacked next to the fridge.The slip of my laces untying seemed loud in the silence of my duplex as I waited for the sound of his fist thudding on the door.
Why isn’t he knocking?
I kicked my boots off.My house slippers were colder than my feet, but I put them on anyway.I moved through the kitchen with its dark cabinets to the living room.Furgie had hopped onto the sofa and curled up.
And I waited.
Grabbing one of her dog treats, I smooshed it around an antibiotic.
And waited.
She took the treat and pill with the little nub of her tail wagging excitedly.
My teeth were clenched so tight I was probably causing damage to my molars.
Jesus Christ, knock on the door.
He knew I was here.He’d seen me pull up.So, why wasn’t he knocking on the door?I wanted this over with.
Thisbeing a second encounter with the lost love of my life.
It was like he’d ripped my chest open and pointed at the place he still occupied.I was over him.But only in the most technical terms.I dated.I worked.I had friends and a life.I was fulfilled.
There was just ...Loving him had changed me.
Losing him had changed me again.
I’d developed into who I was because of my relationship with him.
With all of that, I didn’t know how to make his presence outside of my door not matter.
His lack of knocking felt passive aggressive, just like when he’d say he wasn’t mad, then go days without talking to me until he would blow up about something stupid like makeup on the bathroom counter.I’d hated it then, just like I hated it now.But back then I would have been passively antagonistic back.
Not now, not today.
My slipper-covered march to the front door was loud enough that Remi looked up and met my narrowed eyes through the window.His brow knit together in a cringe, as if preparing for impact, and he sure as hell should because I was coming in hot.
