“Why do you want me to have lunch with you?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“There isn’t anything to talk about.” He should have some understanding after going silent for the last three days. Not that I’ve attempted to reach out to him either, but I left the ball in his court, and he left me with an apology and a reminder to lock my door.
“Journey, come on,” he says, taking my elbow into his hand, so I stop walking ahead.
“I can’t do this. I don’t want to play this up and down game.”
Brody huffs with frustration. “You admitted to dropping a bomb on me. Am I not allowed to digest information and think things through without pissing you off?”
“I didn’t realize you were thinking. Honestly, I didn’t think you were capable of such a skill.”
“Quit it with being a jerk for a minute,” he says. It’s the first time he hasn’t had a snippy response to one of my insults, which informs me of his seriousness. Still, I’m not sure I’m up for this round of ping pong.
“What do you want, Brody?” I look him in the eyes, which I immediately regret because he has beautiful eyes, and we’re outside, and the sun fills the warmth of his browns with vibrant copper tones. I notice faint reddish highlights in his dark hair too. His cheeks are pink from the cold, and he’s blowing plumes of fog from his parted lips. I hate that he could hurt any part of me within such a short period.
“You, Journey. I want to make things work for both of us.” I’m not sure what he means by “both of us.”
“It’s taken you three days to say this?”
“Yes, it has, because I’m not about to tell you to stop loving another man.” He understands me. I didn’t think he would comprehend what I was trying to explain the other night on a level as deep as I’m on. Being in my shoes isn’t normal, and I wouldn’t expect anyone to feel the way I do.
“What are you about to tell me?” I ask.
“Stuff,” he says.
I roll my eyes and tilt my head back, peering up at the clear blue sky. “Fine, I’ll see you at eleven. Betsy’s.”
“Thank you,” he says, stepping in to wrap his arms around my neck. I don’t hug him back, though. I’m not ready to offer a response to his simple words.
“Thanks for the coffee,” I offer while unlocking the door to my jeep.
“I’m glad your Jeep was safe and secure all night. Was your apartment?” I give him a look to avoid his question. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Good luck with your meeting.”
I figured it was coming—the day I would finally turn down a job. Taking photos in a non-heated barn that has poor lighting is not my cup of tea. To each their own but freezing while taking photographs of people wearing winter coats to a wedding under orange lights will not make my portfolio look any better. I have a hard time saying no to potential clients, but I’ve been regularly filling up my schedule, giving me the option to pass on events I’d rather avoid. I still spoke to the couple for over forty-five minutes, offering them advice without overstepping my bounds. I told them I was booked for the same day, rather than offensively telling them I’d rather not freeze my butt off for you and your marital bliss.
The couple leaves five minutes before eleven, passing Brody at the cafe door. He hasn’t seen me yet, but he’s looking in every direction, saving the second table to the right for last. A smile stretches across his cheeks after he spots me. He peels his coat off while preparing to snag the chair across from me. “How did it go?” he asks.
I scrunch my nose and shake my head. “I passed on the job.”
“It’s better than being passed by for a job,” he counters.
“True.”
Brody takes one of the two menus and scans the list for a quick second. I already know what I’m having, and part of me wonders if he knows what he’s having but needs a minute to prepare his speech.
He places the menu down and crosses his hands on top of the ad-covered paper placement. “I’m sorry for going a few days without saying anything to you,” he begins. “I don’t typically use my past as an excuse for anything in life, but after I was cheated on and found out my wife loved someone else more than me, it was a hard pill to swallow.”
His original rendition of the story didn’t sound as painful, but I’m sure it was a cover-up. I can’t imagine finding a spouse cheating.
“I understand,” I tell him because I do understand.
“I’ve tried to analyze the situation a little and put myself in your shoes, but I concluded that you’re a better human being than me.”
“Well, I could have told you that,” I add, smirking to accent my comment.
He doesn’t bite back again. “If Adam miraculously got up and started walking and talking tomorrow, how would it make you feel?” The question has never been asked of me before. I don’t put one foot in front of the other if I can’t balance properly in the first place.
