No. I don’t justlikeher. I’m in love with her. And that’s why I pushed. Because I don’t want this half-relationship, where I see Penny once a week and the rest of the time I’m basically single. I want to see her all the time. I want her to meet my family. I want to have her move in because she wants to and not out of convenience.
But did I think about what Penny wants? What Penny needs? Did I think about the pressure I was putting on her by basically setting an ultimatum?
Yes, I want a real relationship with her. But if the choice is what we have now or nothing?
Is there any question?
“Shit,” I mutter again. “I’m an idiot.”
Duke squints at me. Judging from his expression, I think he agrees.
Moving him off my lap, I get up from the couch and shut the TV off. “I’m heading out,” I tell Duke. “I need to see Penny.”
Icouldcall her to apologize. But I don’t want to. I want to see her. Hold her hands as I tell her how sorry I am, assuming she’ll let me.
As I head towards the front door, I brush at the dog fur on my gray pants while debating whether or not to take the time to change before leaving. But that would take minutes I’d rather not waste, especially if I want to be sure to get there before Penny goes to sleep.
Instead, I give myself a quick once-over in the mirror beside the door, assessing.
Blue button down, still relatively wrinkle free. Dark brown hair slightly messy, but no different than usual. I bare my teeth at the mirror, relieved not to find any bits of food stuck in them. So, basically, the same as I looked when I saw Penny before.
Just as I’m about to leave, I have a split-second thought.
The sun catcher.
Penny collects them, and every window in her apartment has at least one. I’ve bought her a few, but the newest one is special. I found a local artisan who makes custom sun catchers, and I hired her to make one with a library theme, thinking that Penny would love it.
I’d been imagining giving it to Penny when she moved in here, but since it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen, maybe I should give it to her now. Not that I think a sun catcher will make her forgive me, but hey, it couldn’t hurt, could it?
So I run into the bedroom, grab the gift bag that’s been sitting on my dresser for the last week, and jog back to the door. Just before I open the door, I call over my shoulder, “Be good, Duke. I’ll be home soon. Wish me luck!”
He doesn’t respond. But I’ll take his silence as implicit approval.
By the time I get back on the road, it’s almost nine-thirty. Not late, but in Sleepy Hollow, it gets quiet early. The roads of my residential neighborhood are empty, with everyone home for the evening. TVs flicker behind some windows, while others are dark. As I wind my way towards Penny’s apartment, I come across a couple people walking their dogs, their reflective leashes glowing in my headlights and their flashlights bouncing along the road.
Maybe I should call Penny before showing up,I muse. Then again, what if she tells me not to come over? If I’m at her door, hopefully, she’ll be more willing to let me in.
As I’m debating, my phone buzzes.
Penny’s name appears on the dashboard.
My heart leaps.
Then it plummets.
Is she calling because she changed her mind? Or is she calling to tell me she never wants to see me again?
With trepidation, I tap the screen to answer her call. “Penny? Are you okay?”
She hesitates. “Not really.”
Shit.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I pushed you too much. I shouldn’t have.”
“No. You didn’t.” She stops. Hesitates again. “Well, you did push. But… you had every right to.”
I’m so intent on what Penny’s saying, I almost run a stop sign, slamming on the brakes so hard the tires squeal a little. “Shit,” I mutter while scanning the road, hoping not to see flashing red lights rushing up behind me.
