She studies me, another louder whisper of a smile tugging at her lips. We order wine and starters.
“Tell me about your book,” I say, and my heart stutters when her eyes flash with excitement at the topic.
She talks about the stories, the illustrations, the process, and more. She hasn’t been this animated about the bistro. Ever.
Seeing her sitting taller, shining brighter, vibrating with joy, hits me like a freight train.
I can’t fuck it up.
I can’t fuck it up again.
I knew I missed her terribly, but only now do I realize how much. I’m getting another dose of her, and this time, the withdrawal will be fatal.
I can’t let that happen. But it’s not up to me. The lack of control is humbling. But I surrender to it, because she’s worth it.
“So… your text… Are you returning to New York?” I ask.
She sighs. “I love it here. I think I want to stay longer. But it doesn’t matter where I live. The void you left…” She shakes her head, like she regrets the sentence I want her to finish so desperately. “Not much good has happened in my life lately, but every time it does, I want to share it with you.”
I swallow. Fuck. The words rattle through me, leaving me stripped naked in front of her.
She can break me apart with her honesty, and I would let her any time. All the time. Forever.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” She takes a sip.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Like you—”
“Like I love you?”
She flinches, the joy leaving her eyes as she swallows visibly. “Xander,” she breathes.
“Coraline, I love you. I can’t help it.”
“What are we doing?” she asks again.
“Eating our weight in pizza.”
“You know what I mean.” She groans.
“Still the same answer. There is no ulterior motive. You said you wanted to eat here with me, and so, I’m here.”
“You need to stop this, Xander. This is what brokeus. You forcing your way into my life andfixingthings. Making things happen, whether I wanted them or not. Taking my choices away.” She slouches back, looking away, tears brimming in her eyes.
Fuck.
“I wouldn’t force myself if you let me in.” I lean back. Fuck the food. I’m not hungry. Other than for her.
She rolls the rim of the tablecloth and unrolls it. She takes another sip of her wine. She wipes the corners of her mouth with the linen napkin. She puts it back down.
“I sense there are myriad objections brewing in your head. Voice them.” I put my hand on the table, wanting to take hers and feel her warmth, but I just fist it.
“There is only one.” She lifts her chin.
“Which one?”
“I’m scared you’re going to hurt me again.”
