“Why now? Just because you were coming here for work and saw a set of rings in a window? Explain this to me in a way that doesn’t sound like a desperate guy making excuses.”
I set my things down and walk over so I can sit next to him on the bed. “The idea of leaving Miami for good and coming back has been brewing in my mind for a while. From the first week I dated Freddy. That it was stupid for me to keep fighting to stay in Miami and my life there when I knew it would always be an emotional dead-end.”
“Only for the past couple of months?”
“Concretely, yes. Where I could finally admit it to myself. When I’m honest with myself, it’s been right there below the surface ever since I left. I stopped being able to lie to myself a couple of months ago.”
“Then why didn’t you call me sooner? Why not pick up the phone and ask to come home? Why let the silence go on for so long? I stopped calling and texting to see if you’d keep in contact with me and you didn’t.”
“Because I was too deeply mired in my life and what I thought I was supposed to be doing to pull free then. Time got away from me. It’s not an excuse, though. You’re right—I should have done a better job staying in touch with you.”
He studies me for a moment. “Did you honestly think dating someone just because your mom wanted you to would work?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I knew I wouldn’t end up with him because I wasn’t romantically attracted to him. I guess I was really buying myself time and space to figure out my escape plan. If Mom knew I was contemplating leaving Miami, she would have been hammering me hard and laying on the guilt thick. I guess in a way he became a sort of beard for me to keep her happy. And then this all happened, me getting assigned this case. It was like fate thumped me hard on the head to make me pay attention and I couldn’t turn back once I’d finally accepted it.”
“You could’ve called me. You should’ve called me instead of just showing up.”
“I was scared to. I was worried you’d tell me to go to hell. I thought I’d have a better chance standing in front of you.” I smile. “I love you. I hoped if you weren’t involved with someone else that if I was talking to you in person, maybe I could persuade you to give me another chance. Or at least grovel enough to make you feel sorry for me and hear me out.”
He sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “Any other crazy exes going to come crawling out of the woodwork to antagonize me?”
“No.”
“Have I heard the last of Freddy?”
I start to answer and think about it. “I hope he gives up. I suspect he might try to make trouble for me, but there’s no leverage he has against you.”
“And if he makes trouble for you?”
“There’s nothing I can do about that. It doesn’t change my mind, or what I feel for you. This move is happening, and I’m coming home for good. I already put in for vacation time for next week, so I’m here at least that long until I have to go back to start making the moving arrangements.”
He falls quiet for a moment. I let him think uninterrupted for a few minutes before he speaks again. “Next weekend, we’ll go empty your condo. That’ll give me time to make sure I have the store adequately staffed while I’m gone.” He meets my gaze. “I’ll drive down to Miami with you and we’ll rent a truck and get you packed.”
Sharp, piercing relief slams into me. “You mean it?”
“Yeah.” He lays his hand over mine, lacing fingers with me. “I’ve never stopped loving you. One of the reasons I couldn’t force myself to get out and meet other people is that I knew no one would ever make me feel the way you did, and I couldn’t bear trying to meet someone else. You were utterly perfect for me.”
I tip my head so I can touch my forehead to his. “You’re utterly perfect for me, too. Iwillspend the rest of my life making this up to you.”
“He shows up again, I’m smacking him in the face with Jester’s favorite couch pillow.”
He means it, too. “I’d hand it to you.”
When he flops back on the bed, I lie down, too. We’re still holding hands.
“Des, I need to know you’re really in this for life. That if your mom shows up and starts harassing you and trying to get you to move back to Miami, you won’t give in again.”
“I won’t give in.”
“I need to be first in your life.”
“You are, and you will be.”
He sadly sighs. I hate how much I’ve hurt him. I hate myself for how long it will take him to truly heal from this and trust me again.
I did this. I broke the man I love.
“What happens tomorrow?” he asks.
