Dear Gabs,
Forgive me for being cheesy—I had a couple beers before thinking this was a great idea. It might suck. But fuck it. Your smile is worth it. God, when you smile, it’s insane. I get this feeling in my chest I can’t explain.
The bracelet is a phoenix. Like, new beginnings. And the cycle of life. I liked the symbolism of it. I felt like with you, it was like starting over.
God, I’m awful at this.
Thanks for doing this for me. I’m hoping to convince you to keep it going. So, what do you say? Care to make this the real thing?
Ronnie
I reread it. Twice. But the words blurred together with tears. I frantically searched for a date. “When did you order this, Aaron? Shit. When?”
It made such a difference.Oh my god.My heart raced. If this was ordered beforethatnight…then god… I didn’t know. I cut my finger on the paper and I brought it to my mouth. “Come on, come on!”
But, after two minutes of searching for a date, I remained in the dark. The bracelet shone at me. The silver flashed. The intricate design of the phoenix was beautiful. So unlike anything I had and I loved it. I put it on my wrist and the guilt of not being honest with Aaron hit me like a truck.
What if…what if he’d developed feelings, real feelings, and I’d ended it out of fear?No. That can’t be.
I paced. I walked back and forth across the living room, eyeing the note. Did I call him? Go over there? Ignore it?
“Gah!” I kicked the edge of the couch and regretted it instantly.Fuck it. Fuck it all to hell.I dove for my phone. My fingers hurt, I typed so fast.
Greta: I got the bracelet.
The three dots appeared as he typed. But then they disappeared. It happened two more times and I grew about ten gray hairs in frustration. Patience was not a virtue I had.
Greta: When did you send that?
Aaron: Does it matter?
Greta: More than you know.
Aaron: How’s Tony?
Greta: When did you send it, Aaron?
Aaron: I’m giving you space. Enjoy it.
Greta: You’re frustrating as fuck. Why can’t you answer the question?
Aaron: I’m busy right now.
I clenched my eyes together, imaging him with woman after woman.Why is the pain not getting better?
“Fuck.” I stared at the bracelet, spinning it around my wrist. It weighed about an ounce but felt like ten pounds.Aaron has feelings for me. Real feelings.
I punched the pillow on the couch and had such a restless, terrifying feeling in my chest. It started small, then grew, pushing on my heart. My breathing came out fast, too fast. And I hated the pact. I hated the deal I’d made with him and how I had to protect my feelings. I hated it all.
“Fuck this.” I needed another drink. A distraction.Anything.The anxiety in my chest scratched to get out and I had no sane path to help it. I just didn’t want to be alone—so to the bar it was. Two pitchers to myself. A hangover from hell. All of it sounded better than knowing I’d thrown it all away. Fuck my resolve to be in control.
* * * *
“Greta—are you sure you’re okay?” Clyde frowned, hard. I’d already downed three glasses of shitty beer. My life didn’t seemthatbad after drinks. Nope. The tingling in my neck felt great because it blocked out the pain in my chest.Yup. Beer is good.“Greta?”
“Yes. I’mfiiiiiine.” I pouted like a damn child and didn’t give a fuck. He was raining on my pity parade. Some nice-looking guys strolled in, giving methe stareI knew well, but nothing happened.
No butterflies. No interest. Not even a flicker. I didn’t return their gaze and stared at the amber liquid.They aren’t Aaron.
