Читать книгу 8 Brand-New Romance Authors - Avril Tremayne - Страница 13

FOUR

She had dreamed of Drew again, but just as he would lean in to kiss her, the dream would suddenly change.

“Josh.” Even saying his name aloud in the quietness of her room ignited something unfamiliar within her. She had joked about the kiss with him the day before, even going so far to blame it on him. She’d wanted to give the situation some levity, but it was proving to be far more serious than she thought. And Josh was taking up a good portion of her mind.

The two men had taken over her every waking and sleeping thought. She would wake up, perspiration beading on her brow as she shook the images of last night’s dream from her mind.

She was holding firm to the notion that they were connected. If she cleansed herself of one problem, the other would fix itself.

Every year for the last ten years she had allowed herself a short time of grieving. This year was not shaping up to be quite what she had anticipated. This had to stop. She had to get control of this. No more moping. No more sadness. She would rid herself of her past once and for all.

She got out of bed and opened her closet door. Reaching up, she pulled down a bulky, heavy box. It was a box she rarely opened anymore, but had been in her possession for the last ten years. As she lifted the lid, the smell of old things drifted through the air as easily as the sense of nostalgia enveloped her.

Memories. Her memories.

Even as she had every intention of going through the box to put an end to this madness, she found herself desperate to cling to the memories. She had loved him deeply. Something like that could not just be tossed aside.

As she lifted an old photograph, she held it to her chest, wanting to grasp any part of Drew that she could. She couldn’t throw any of this away. Not yet.

Time had seemed to wash out the memories, causing them to fade ever so slightly, but opening this box erased all the damage time had done.

She had forgotten so many things about him. Even the pain of losing him had dimmed. She could no longer remember his voice or the expressions of his face. But her fragmented dreams had brought it all back.

Lovingly, she lifted out his sweatshirt. The deep red color brought a different kind of sadness. She ran her fingers across the white letters stitched on the front—Harvard.

He’d had such dreams, such potential. He might not have ever been accepted into Harvard, but she did not doubt that he would have been successful wherever he ended up.

Putting the sweatshirt aside, she lifted out a stack of photos. Next, she pulled out a stack of letters. Long before text messages and email, handwritten notes and letters had existed, and they were sacred to her. She missed getting them.

Her eyes scanned each one, taking in the way he drew a heart in one fluid stroke of his pen. She had never seen anyone else do it that way. It made him unique.

Josh suddenly came to mind.

Now the man of her past and the man of her present dueled for a place in her heart. But the harsh reality of it was that she would lose this battle no matter what. She would never be able to have either one.

Micah took her time going through the box, reading each letter, staring at each picture, memorizing every detail. Then she put her favorite picture and her favorite letter aside. Everything else went back in the box and the lid back on top.

It was time. She had had her cry, and now it was time to move forward.

She carried the heavy box out to the living room and set it near the door. It was time for it to go. That was the healthy thing to do.

Sabina entered the apartment with her arms full of groceries and almost tripped over the box. She had obviously gone to the market and purchased a load of fresh fruit and vegetables. What really stuck out to Micah, though, were the flashy sequined top, black leather leggings and stilettos Sabina wore.

Sabina’s eyes filled with worry as she took in Micah’s tearstained cheeks and puffy red eyes, but thankfully she said nothing. Micah didn’t want to talk about it just yet.

“You wore that to the market?”

“I ran out of clean clothes.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No. What’s wrong with this?” Sabina looked down at her outfit, trying to figure out what was wrong with it and seemingly forgetting she was still holding several bags of food.

“Here, let me help.” Micah relieved her of some of the bags. “And let me inform you what is wrong with your outfit. No one wears sequins to the market, much less Marc Jacobs stilettos.”

“I can. I have always said it is better to be overdressed than underdressed.” Sabina gave Micah’s look a once-over. “Besides, since when did the pajama queen start handing out fashion advice? Have you been sleeping all day again?”

“This isn’t about me. Don’t try to change the subject. Yes, you do always say that. But if you show up wearing a ball gown next week while trying to buy fresh fish, everyone will make fun of you.”

“No, they won’t. Everyone will just start wearing gowns the following week. I am a trendsetter.”

Micah rolled her eyes. A trendsetter, my butt.

“And Mike, the fact that you knew these were Marc Jacobs did not escape my notice. It warms my heart.”

Oh, yay! Just what she always hoped she would be capable of doing—spotting and naming designers at the drop of a hat.

“How did we become friends again?”

* * *

Josh needed to see her. There was this nagging emotion that had been plaguing him. He’d thought it would all go back to normal after a good night’s sleep. That soon this would all be water under the bridge.

She never texted him back. He hadn’t heard from her at all. Out of desperation, he texted Sabina, a rarity in and of itself, to check in on Micah. According to Sabina, she had slept the day away and appeared to have been crying. It was getting worse, not better. But the question was, did he step in to help, or did he give her space?

Maybe space was needed. She needed to work through these unresolved issues with Drew and he needed to get himself under control. Space was a good thing. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

Regardless, they needed to talk, clear the air. Then space could be possible, and at least his mind would be at ease. But as he stood at her doorstep, he realized he probably should have rehearsed what to say beforehand. He’d just have to see how it went.

He lifted his hand and placed three quick knocks on the hardwood door. A few moments later, the knob turned and door opened. Micah stood in front of him, appearing very much like the best friend he knew and loved in her oversize T-shirt and what she called comfy pants, her glasses in place and hair wadded up on top of her head. Her eyes were a little puffy and red, evidence of the tears Sabina had told him about.

She didn’t say anything, just stood in the doorway, looking at him.

“I need to ask you something.” The look she gave him told him it was okay to proceed. “How much do you think a polar bear weighs?”

She gave him a puzzled but knowing look. She knew him too well to know it wasn’t a serious question plaguing his mind. “I don’t know. How much?”

“Enough to break the ice.” It got the response he wanted. Well, almost. It was a smile, even if forced. She moved aside to let him enter.

“I can’t talk right now, Josh.”

“You know, I used to have a pet porcupine.”

“What? What in the world does that have to do with me not wanting to talk?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I just thought we were beginning this conversation with each of us saying things that don’t matter.”

Her smile stretched from ear to ear. It didn’t matter what was going on between them. She could be mad at him and ready to spit fire his way, but he would saunter in and say something charming. What could he say? He had a way about him. It worked every time.

“Okay. I’ll stop.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “I just wanted to check in on you.”

“As you can see, I’m fine.” She extended both of her arms out in an effort to show she was in fact just fine.

“Are you sure about that?”

She didn’t answer. Just sat down on the couch and stared at her hands.

“Micah, I hate seeing you hurt like this.”

“I’m fine. Really. We don’t need to talk about it.”

“I knew you would say that.” That was exactly what he expected from her. “But I’m kind of tired of waiting for the right time to talk to you.”

She looked up with him, her eyes stretched wide. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

“When will be the right time?” Recently his patience had been wearing thin, making him unsure of how to proceed, how to act around her, talk to her. It was all so exasperating. He had to remind himself to continue to be patient with her. She was in a delicate state of mind.

“I don’t know. Maybe never.”

She was frustrated and he knew it by the tone of her voice, the rigidity in her body language, but he wasn’t about to give up on it so easily.

“Well, that doesn’t work for me.” Okay, handling delicate situations wasn’t something that came easily for him. “You have to get over him.”

Her gaze snapped back up at him as if he had taken her by surprise. Did she think he was talking about something else? Was she thinking about the kiss instead?

Her hesitation was clear. He could sense she was searching for a response. He had definitely caught her off guard. Moments passed before she finally spoke.

“You...you say that like it’s an easy thing. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“You know you weren’t the only one to go through this, right, Micah?”

He could see the anger stirring in her eyes, her feisty personality wanting to tell him off.

“No, but my relationship with him was different. My grief is different than yours. I can’t tell you how to handle it any more than you can tell me how to handle mine.”

“I’m not telling you how to grieve. I have kept silent. I have let you handle it your way. I’ve been there as a shoulder to cry on more times than I can count. I knew you needed time. But it has been ten years. You can’t keep this up. What you are experiencing now is way past the point of being unhealthy.”

“Unhealthy?”

“Yeah. You’ve taken grieving to a whole new level, and you were only with the guy for two years. Don’t you think you’ve cried enough tears over him?”

Immediately, he regretted it. He had seen the pain in her eyes just before she turned her face from him. He knew better.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He stood in front of her and reached for her hand, pulling her up toward him. “Come here.”

She came freely, tucking her head under his chin, resting her head on his chest. He knew the moment he pulled her closer that it was a mistake. Her warm body flush against his was wrong on so many levels. He pushed past it. She needed a friend instead of the jerk he had been recently.

She didn’t say a word. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“Micah, if you keep going the way you’ve been, I fear you’ll be just as dead on the inside as Drew’s body in the grave.”

Still no response.

She felt right in his arms. Like home. He couldn’t lose her. He wanted to keep her safe, right where she was, close to his heart. Keep her safe from the pain of the world and the pain of her past. But he knew he needed to let go and let her do what she needed to do. He needed to support her and encourage her to move on, even if it meant she moved on from him, too. Because when you loved someone, you put their happiness above your own.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” She pulled back from him enough to look up into his face. “Why were we fighting in the first place, anyway? I was a little hungover, in case you forgot. I can’t really remember what happened.”

Relief coursed through him. There was hope. Maybe she wasn’t thinking about the kiss after all.

“I don’t know. I never know why we bother fighting. We both know there’s no point to it. We’re bound for life. It’s inevitable. Nothing will ever come between us. I promise.”

“Good. Because I can’t imagine life without you.” She pulled away from him completely and headed toward the door. “Can you do me a favor?”

She lifted up a worn-out old box and handed it to him. “Will you get rid of this for me?”

“Sure. What is it? Do you want me to donate it or toss it?”

“It’s just some Drew memorabilia. I felt like it was about time I got rid of it.”

He hadn’t been prepared for that. Maybe she was moving on quicker than he had realized. “Really? Are you sure about that?”

“Didn’t you just lecture me on this? Yes, I need it to be gone.”

“Don’t you want to hold onto some of it?” This was a big deal, especially for her.

“I already pulled out my favorites. The rest can go.”

“Okay, but only if you’re sure about it.”

“I am.”

He hadn’t expected a change this quickly. She seemed to be handling it just fine.

“Hey, I have an idea...”

“What?”

“What if we both get a tattoo? You know, like in memory of...”

“You and your tattoos.”

“But I’m serious. It will be fun. Plus, it will be something you have that will always remind you of him, but never take up valuable space in your closet.”

She laughed, and then appeared to be contemplating his suggestion. He waited as she pondered.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

“Awesome! I’ll call my guy and you think about what you want to get.”

* * *

Micah already knew what she wanted to get. She didn’t need to think too hard on that one. This whole conversation, however, was something else entirely.

She thought he had been talking about the kiss! She had been sitting there mentally preparing herself for the awkward conversation, and he’d thrown her a curveball.

All this time she had thought her friends had considered her annual time of grieving as a minor inconvenience. Sure, she had just come to grips with her own denial of the situation, but she hadn’t realized that Josh had noticed. She’d thought she was in control of it, the way she went about her life in a seemingly healthy manner, only allowing herself one period of time a year to cry. That was normal, right?

So maybe it wasn’t. She had some issues to work through and she would. But never, ever had it crossed her mind that Josh had been aware of it.

Now she found out the truth! Had she always been so clueless? Did all of her friends think the same way Josh did? Did he really see her as someone who had unresolved grief issues? Did he really see her as such an unstable, unhealthy individual?

It was infuriating! All of her hard work over the years had been for nothing. The carefully placed mask had fooled no one but herself.

Argh! She wanted to scream!