I force myself to look up at him, staring into his dark eyes while trying to find the part of him I was once so deeply attracted to. I’m sure it must be there somewhere. His brows buckle, and his forehead crinkles with lines, pleading without words, causing me to feel guilty withoutcause.
As I take the extra few seconds toreallylook at him—the man I have told myself I loved—I can’t seem to find one single part of him that makes me feel any type of emotion, not even atwitch.
“I can’t,” I tellhim.
“Fuck, Emma,” he shouts boisterously, forcing his voice to echo off the walls within this small cafe. “Is there someone else, orsomething?”
“You’re asking me if there’s someone else when you admitted to cheating onme?”
“Yeah, I’m asking you if there’s someone else,” herepeats.
I’m not sure if Jackson’s short presence in my life can count as someone else, but in the time I’ve known him, he’s offered me more than Mike did in the six years we spent together. Jackson is someone good, and he’s opened my eyes to a world I didn’t know existed. “Yes, Mike, there’s someone else.” I take my phone from next to my leg and hit the display to check the time. “As a matter of fact, I need to get going so I can go shower and change for my date with himtonight.”
Mike looks around as if I told a joke others might have heard too. “A date?” he asks, laughingcynically.
“Yeah, I realize you’re unfamiliar with the concept of spending time alone with the person you supposedly love, but some people still practice the ancient method ofcourting.”
“Courting?” he questions while throwing his headback.
“Forget it.” I stand up with my bag and laptop, ready to get as far away from him aspossible.
“So, this is seriously it?” he asks. Obviously, I haven’t been clear enough. There has always been one definitive line with me that can’t be crossed, and I was clear about it. I won’t put up with cheating. Dad cheated on Mom so many times before she called him out on it, and once she did, he disappeared from our lives as if we were never important to him. There is no way I’d put up with that for as long as she did, or at all for thatmatter.
“This is it,” I confirm. Mike’s shoulders slouch in defeat. “Next time you have a good girl to come home to, don’t cheat on her. Treat her like she’s important—like she matters to you.” I wrap my arms around his neck and offer him a quick hug. “Goodbye, Mike.” How could my last words to Mike be the same as Grams’s last words to Charlie, yet have such a different meaning?It couldn’t have been. There’s more of Charlie in this book. I knowit.
I head toward the door, mortified from the scene Mike caused. “Bye, Em,” Chelsea shouts from behind the counter. I turn around, taking a couple of steps backward to the door as I wave goodbye. The look on her face tells me she heard everything that happened and my phone will most likely be buzzing in an hour when she gets out ofwork.
Ihaven’t beenon an actual date where I’ve been given the opportunity to dress up my normal wardrobe, curl my hair, and put on a little makeup since college. I’ve missed that feeling of anticipation andexcitement.
The drive back into Boston is quick and easy, and I find a nearly empty lot in front of the restaurant where Jackson said to meet him. I pull down the visor to check my reflection one last time, and when I see my face, I notice something I haven’t witnessed in a while: My cheeks are pink, and my eyes look brighter. I’ve lost that worn-out look I so often had when Mike and I were together. I feel different, too. I feel a sense of unfamiliarhappiness.
I step out of the Jeep, balancing myself in a pair of heels I haven’t worn since a wedding I went to last year and head across the parking lot toward the street parallel to therestaurant.
Jackson is standing where he said he’d be waiting, and he’s smiling at me as if he hasn’t seen me in a month—as if he’s truly happy to seeme.
“Well, hello, gorgeous,” he says, shamelessly checking me out. My heart flops around in the bottom of my stomach, and my cheeks ache from the smile I’m trying to downplay. I’m forced to pinch my bottom lip between my front teeth as a rush of warmth reels through while I take in the sight of this amazing man in front of me. He’s dressed casually in a pair of jeans-ones that look like he was the one reason jeans were invented. In addition, his casual, blue-and-white plaid collared shirt is fitted, showing off a toned body he’s hidden beneath scrubs. I’m suddenly aware of the fact that he is even farther out of my league than I originally thought, and I don’t know how the heck I ended uphere.
“Hi,” I offer in return as I come within an arm’s length of him. He doesn’t waste a second before stretching out his hand and taking hold of my elbow to pull me in towardhim.
“The last few hours have been the longest hours of my entire life,” he says. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” I feel utterly speechless. No one has ever spoken to me this waybefore.
For most of my adult life, I have had the notion that some girls are the type that men woo over, and others, like me, are the ones men settle for when they’re looking for simplicity. Jackson’s making me feel like I’m on a whole other level than I thought Iwas.
“Me?” I question. I can’t help wondering what it is about me he couldn’t stop thinkingabout.
His thumb and forefinger gently pinch my chin as he leisurely—slowly—bends his neck down to kiss me so softly that my lips quiver as if they were touched by the tip of a feather. Oh, wow. I can’t thinkstraight.
“Why did you want to meet me outside?” I askhim.
“I needed this moment before we were surrounded bypeople.”
My heart aches from beating so hard. I should not be falling for him so quickly. I could get hurt. I could fall in love. I can easily see myself intertwining my life with his—just the idea of being with him is compelling, and I’ve known him for less than a week. I don’t do this sort of thing. I take my time.I waste my time. I spent six years with a person only to realize I hatehim.
I should stop followingrules.
“How did your work go today?” Jackson asks while opening the heavy wooden door to therestaurant.
“Good. I got enough done to be somewhat caught up. I schedule projects in increments to try and maintain a somewhat normal schedule. It’s hard to stick to, but I’ve been working hard at cutting back for the whole work/life balance thing everyone is always talking about.” I chuckle at what I’m saying because I’m talking about a busy schedule to a doctor who most definitely works more hours in any given week than Ido.
