After the week-long hiatus was over I felt like I needed a fresh start without the distraction of Cami or Sam. So, yesterday I forced myself out of the house and purchased a new phone, changing my phone number for the first time in my life.
I’ve had the same number since my mom got me a cell phone when I was thirteen years old. When the sales guy asked if I wanted to transfer over my contacts, text messages, photos and apps, I told him contacts and photos only, but immediately wentin and blocked the numbers for Sam, Sienna, and Cami, then deleted their information.
As I removed the‘Cheating Bastard’contact, the next name that popped up was: Dad.
My heart broke a little. Wondering if it was silly that I still kept it in my phone as contacts even though I know I’ll never see that name pop up on my screen again.
I left it anyway because it feels like a comfort having it in there.
Like a true clean slate, I had no texts in my messages app and was required to download the apps I needed on this phone. I only downloaded the ones I needed, which was really nice because I didn’t use ninety percent of the apps I had on my old phone.
It felt cleansing.
The only thing that continued to preoccupy my thoughts wasthem. I wanted to go see them multiple times, but talked myself out of it.
And for good reason.
Because a majority of the solo time I had was much needed and I spent all of that time teaching myself how to be better at being alone. I never thought I had an issue with this until I felt like I truly had no one. Including the million people behind the small screen of my phone. I’ve used those virtual, and practically faceless, relationships more than I should have because if I wasn't talking to someone, I felt like I was living my life in solitary. In reality, I just never knew how to enjoy the solo version of me.
I needed to find enjoyment in myself.
And honestly, it felt good.
Admittedly though, the other portion of my time was spent dissecting all the ways something could possibly work between me, Major, Wade, and Jasper. Because no matter how hard Itried to push that thought away, I couldn’t. They embedded themselves in me so easily, so quickly, and I conjured up all the ways that it could make sense.
I want it to make sense.
I know I need to start by apologizing for my actions and how I reacted toward them, but I couldn't muster the courage to just show up at the station.
Plus, I have no idea when they work or what their schedule is and my emotional state last week couldn’t handle being rejected, even if it was because of a simple fact of them not being there.
So, I decided I need a grand gesture. I need to find a way to apologize—profusely—tell them how I feel, and manifest what I want.
I find myself peering over in the direction of Jasper’s family pop up, but I don’t see it here today. The spot it’s normally at has a table with fresh honeycomb and honey jarring tools.
“So, how’re you holding up?” Rayna asks, as she places brochures on the table.
Her tone is kind. But I still have a hard time wondering who’s asking for purposes of checking in on my well-being and who’s asking to hear the inside scoop of all the drama.
“Oh, that’s last week's news.” I wave my hand like it’s no big deal. Which is partially true. There’s so much hype when it first happens, but fades immediately with the next jaw-dropping gossip event. “Sam and I broke up over a month ago and I already knew about his, you know, side activities.” I didn’t know about Cami but I leave it vague because I don’t really want to talk about it. She senses it and changes the topic.
“Well, those firefighters you interviewed last week were…wow,” she says as she fans herself. “Oh, how I’d love to be trapped in a building with them.”
Yeah, I guess that’s probably a normal reaction. I mean, I can’t say I didn’t feel the same way the moment I met them. Evenso, a wave of possessiveness floats over me and I can’t help but want to rip her fingernails out of her nail beds for talking about my guys in such a suggestive way.
Oh, god. Listen to me.
My guys.
Claiming them like Tarzan. I’m not normally a jealous person but thinking about them with other people drives me to the brink of madness.
Fuck it.I’m going to go to the station…now.
“You know, I have to?—”
“Oh my god. Is that them?” She hits my arm with the top of her hand then points in the direction of the pedestrian entrance of the market.
I whiplash my neck in that direction to see a small fire truck parking in the fire lane at the front entrance. The doors open in unison as my three gorgeous men step out of the truck and I swear it plays out in my head like the best slow motion video ever made.
