Fuck, I can’t take it anymore. Not only has she ruined my chance to be alone with Cody, but I’m now at a loss for how to answer not one but two questions. It’s as if everything suddenly slams into me all at once. All my feelings blur together into a sharp sting of pain, sending me spiraling. I’m miserable because I miss him, angry at myself for letting him go, shocked by the possessive thoughts I just had about him, frustrated at the woman who seems determined to steal every moment I have with him... and it’s all too much.
Tears prickle behind my eyes. What an awful day it’s been, just one disappointment after the other, and the only person who could help me is someone I can’t have. Because of her.
“Cody, is this your girlfriend?” I blurt out, not bothering with introductions or trying to hold back tears. “Tell me now!” My voice comes out desperate, unrecognizable, and I probably look unhinged, but I don’t care.
The woman frowns, Cody just stares, and still I don’t get an answer. Because she speaks first, cutting him off. Part of me wants to strangle her.
“This guy was here before,” she says in English. “He won’t tell me who he is or what he wants. He’s acting crazy. Do you know him?”
Cody doesn’t even look at her. His eyes are locked on me. “Yes, I know him. This is Luc.”
For some reason, her eyes widen at that. I don’t care why; my brain leaps straight to the worst.
“Just fucking tell me if she’s your girlfriend!”
“I’m not his girlfriend. Or his wife,” she says, infuriatingly calm. “But I am his friend. And you’re the guy from the cake shop who broke his heart.” She glares at me. “Haven’t you done enough? What do you want from him now?”
Her words barely register. All I hear is friend. Not girlfriend, not wife, just friend. Relief crashes through me, and for the first time since I knocked on the door, I can actually breathe.
I must have been silent for a long time because Cody eventually repeats, “What do you want, Luc? Why are you here?”
I swallow hard before replying, reminding myself that just because he’s not with her, doesn’t mean he still wants me. “I... I just want to talk to you.”
He frowns at me. “Why would I want that?”
The coldness in his voice breaks my heart. Maybe I should have expected it; this day has been a complete shitshow from the start. “Please, Cody, just for a minute,” I reply, almost begging. At this point, I’d give anything for just a moment of his time, and no matter how vulnerable it may make me, part of me hopes he knows that.
In response, he sighs deeply, as if the prospect of merely talking to me is absolute torture to him. My stomach drops with the thought. I can’t even put into words how much that stings.
“Okay, fine,” he eventually says before turning toward his friend. “Could you give us some privacy, Joyce? I’ll text you once it’s over.”
Once it’s over—God, I don’t want it to be over. Please don’t let this be it. I need another chance, just one more chance.
I didn’t expect to be crying here on Cody’s doorstep. But I am.
Joyce nods, glaring at me before answering him. “Or text me during if you need anything.” My tears do not earn her sympathy. She doesn’t like me; that much is clear.
She leaves, much too slowly in my opinion. My ears are ringing, my face is wet, and I half want to shove her out the door, step inside the house with Cody, and lock the world out, but I manage to remain clear enough to know I’m not in a position to do that. To know that he wouldn’t like it.
Another thing that bothers me is that Joyce hugs Cody upon her departure. The same part of me that wanted to lock Cody and me inside the house wants to drag her off him. It’s me he should be hugging, not her. I need it so much more.
Somehow, I manage to control myself. She said they’re friends, so I’ll just have to cling to that. Maybe I don’t have to worry—not about that anyway.
When Joyce finally leaves, I’m relieved to have Cody to myself, but the feeling is short-lived. He doesn’t seem happy to see me. Instead, he looks surprised, angry, and... hurt.
Well,merde. I wasn’t prepared for the amount of pain in his eyes, mercilessly reminding me of my own. He looks about as miserable as I feel. I’m not sure what I was expecting. The worst-case scenario would have been if his new—or old—boyfriend or girlfriend had opened the door for me, but I had no idea what to prepare myself for.
“You wanted to talk.” He glares at me. “So talk.”
A lump forms in my throat. I don’t know what to do in this situation. I shouldn’t have left him in the first place. That was stupid. So, where to go from here?
“I wanted to see you,” I reply, a deep breath leaving me, either from relief or suspense, I couldn’t say. I have too many feelings coursing through me right now. “It’s been a rough day.”
He scoffs. “It’s been a rough day for you, huh?”
“Oui. I missed you a lot.”
“Stop it, Luc,” he growls. “I’m not in the mood for your games. Why are you really here?”
