Jaded (29 page)

And her heart was definitely rooting for forgiving him.

Her cell phone buzzed against her thigh. She peered at it, curious to know who would text her when the majority of her closest friends and family were in the room with her. She brought up the message.

I really, really want to see you.

Her mind froze and she almost dropped the phone. Lizzie must have noticed the stricken look on her face because she immediately asked what was wrong.

“Nothing.” She took a deep breath, hoping to alleviate the pressure building against her heart.

Her phone buzzed and beeped again. She gulped and looked at the message.

Meet me at my house.

Her head immediately started pleading
no, no, no
. She couldn’t go there, not to see David. But she had to. Before she realized it, she was standing up and fabricating an excuse as to why she had to leave the wedding preparation party.

“Where are you going?” Kitty asked, looking annoyed. “We have so much left to do.”

“I have to go. A friend of mine is in some trouble. I gotta go pick them up.” She swallowed hard, unsure why exactly she was following through with this, but all she knew was that she had to. Something beyond her was compelling it.

“Car troubles?” Lizzie asked.

“Yeah. That’s what it sounds like, at least.” She shot Lizzie a look that her friend instantly understood and she signaled her to call her. “I’ll see you guys later. I’m so sorry, Kitty.” She placed a kiss on her sister’s cheek, and then hugged everyone in the room. “I’ll be back tonight if I can; otherwise I’ll be over tomorrow to help you finish up.”

She bolted from the house and as she drove to David’s, her mind was screaming. Was she insane? What was she expecting? A scientist with a memory-eraser and an engagement ring? She knew David had nothing new to offer her—at least nothing that she wanted from him. But as she got closer to his house, her mother’s words rang loudly between her ears:
people make mistakes. And sometimes it’s worth a second look. Even if it means you just look to remind yourself that you don’t want that.

Isabella pulled into the driveway of a large brick house set back from the road, moodily illuminated with landscape lights dotting the walkway. As she scurried to the front door, her haste puzzled her. She wasn’t aching for him. She didn’t think about him. There was a time when he’d been on her mind constantly, but he’d first been extinguished by her own effort, and since been replaced. So why she was so eager to see him, so eager to be tempted by him?

She knocked on his door, swallowing hard. There were a lot of memories of this house and of all the rooms inside. Strangely, her heart didn’t stir.

“I’m so glad you came,” David said after he’d opened the door. His hair was tousled and he was dressed casually. He looked like he’d had a restless, brooding evening, judging by the heaviness in his gaze.

“Well, I’m here. What did you want?” Her heart was pounding in her chest. She had a strange feeling her heart was trying to prove something to her head.

“I just wanted to be with you. Like old times.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her inside. She inhaled deeply and caught the distinctive scent of his house, a mixture of wood polish, cologne, and old books. Her heart fluttered briefly.

“Let’s go upstairs so we can talk.” He took her hand and tried to lead her upstairs.

She looked at her hand in his, looked up the staircase to the second floor, and said, “Why can’t we talk here?”

“I thought we might be more comfortable in the bedroom.” He tried pulling her upstairs again.

“No.” She took her hand back, pleased to note that the feel of his skin against hers did nothing to spur emotion, not even while she was surrounded by tangible memories and moments in his house. She should have been lamenting their demise and poring over her bad luck, whisked away by a fever of emotion that carried her back into his arms and heart. At least, that’s what she was expecting would happen, if she felt anything for David anymore.

But there was nothing.

He looked confused for a moment, but guided her toward the front sitting room. He sat on the loveseat, indicating that she should sit in the space beside him. She sat in a chair across the room.

He was frustrated by her defiance, she could tell, but he pressed onward. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I miss you.”

“What do you want from me?”

He looked shocked. The Isabella he knew before wasn’t as straightforward, as cut-and-dried as she was in recent times. Life-altering revelations and decision-making tended to have that effect, she realized, and she was all the better for it. “Nothing. I-I don’t want anything from you. I just want
you
.”

“I still don’t know about that, David.”

He looked deeply into her eyes. “Let me change your mind.”

“How?”

He went to her and took her head in his hands, pressing his lips to hers before she had a chance to protest. His lips were just like she remembered—moist, warm, inviting. But she didn’t want them against hers.

The thought shook throughout her body. David was kissing her and her heart was miles away. She was bored with him already. And she didn’t know
why
.

“I’m not convinced,” she said when he pulled away. But she didn’t mean it as an invitation to continue.

“Let me try again.” He leaned in for another kiss, but Isabella dodged him.

“No, David. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Then why are you here?”

The question made her mind reel. “I don’t know.”

He looked hurt. “You must have wanted to pursue something if you came over tonight.”

She suddenly knew exactly why she’d come, and her mother had been right. She didn’t need to waste her time on him; she didn’t need to torture herself with the concept of forgiving him and taking him back. She didn’t feel anything for him anymore. David was history...and he’d only become that way with the help of a lot of hard work, and a different experience in love to teach her new things.

“No, I came over here because...I wasn’t sure about some things.” She paused. “But now I understand.”

“Understand what?”

“We will never be together. Ever again.”

A look of pain flashed across his face. “Why?”

“I’ve moved on. Months ago, I would have been yours, but not anymore.” She stood and sighed. She offered a small smile.

“Please, Isabella. I still love you, and—”

“No. You’ll move on. We can still be friends, maybe. But not anything more.”

“Let me try again,” he begged, “I’ll show you that we—”

“No, David.” She held out a hand to quiet him. “We had our time, and I learned from you. Thank you for that. But that’s it.”

He watched her, slack-jawed, as she turned and quietly left the house. She felt an unusual sense of completion. She wasn’t angry with him anymore, that was clear. That chapter of her life was over.

She walked to her car, softly humming a tune. As she pulled out of his driveway, her thoughts drifted from David and toward more pressing issues.

Now that she had proof that she’d been able to get over David and move on, was the same possible with Luke?

Her head was telling her yes, it was surely possible.

But her heart was saying hell no.

***

Isabella arrived at her house slightly less cheery than when she’d left David’s. She walked into the empty house and trudged upstairs to go to bed.

A week left of construction, and she couldn’t be more confused.

Stay mad,
she counseled herself.
Stay mad
. She couldn’t deny how much she would miss Luke’s constant presence. He was always within a hundred-yard radius, willing to sacrifice a few minutes of work to mess around or talk to her. She’d certainly miss the surprise occasions when she’d venture outside and see him shirtless, hard at work with all muscles displayed.

She’d miss a lot of things. She’d even miss the voracious appetite of the workers.

But Luke most of all.

With a sigh, she entered her bedroom. When she saw the red roses littering her bed, she gasped.

David immediately popped into her mind, but she knew that couldn’t be. He hadn’t been in her house since yesterday afternoon, and there was no way he could have snuck these in.

It had to be Luke.

She picked up a long-stemmed rose, inhaling its sweet fragrance. She had to give him credit—he was a sweet guy when he wanted to be. She hadn’t seen him at all today, and it warmed her heart to think this was his little way of communicating with her.

She undressed and carefully collected the roses on top of her dresser. As she slid into bed and hugged the pillow close to her body, she felt the crinkle of paper beneath her arm.

One more surprise from Luke, she realized. She couldn’t keep the excitement from welling up in her body as she revealed a folded square of paper from underneath her pillow.

Don’t deprive me of your presence.

If I can’t be with you, I at least need to see you.

I hope you’ll be around tomorrow.

- Luke Titus Peterson

She lowered her hands to the bedspread, note still grasped lightly between her fingertips. She hardly dared to breathe and disturb the thoughts running through her mind.

With the David saga firmly behind her, all she had to figure out now was Luke. And this little tidbit didn’t help matters. She was supposed to stay mad and distance herself—mentally and physically—from him, but it felt impossible. It was like he would crop up in her life and her mind no matter what.

With a sigh, she laid the note in the empty spot beside her and attempted to go to sleep. But she knew sleep was futile—at least for a little while. Her mind was riveted on Luke and, try as she might, she couldn’t quell her impatience for the next day to arrive.

***

“Can you believe it, Luke? Only one more week of this place.” Jimmy squinted at him against the bright morning sun. “Time flies.”

“Yeah, it does.” Luke sighed and snapped his tool belt around his waist. He looked up at Isabella’s house, gulping back a wave of anxiety. He didn’t want time to fly anymore; he didn’t want the last day of work to come. He needed his job as a perpetual excuse to be near Isabella. Luke knew he had a snowball’s chance in hell of ever getting close to her once their job was over.

Jimmy noticed his somber expression. “You still not over the girl?”

Luke felt tears prick his eyes and he looked away. “Nah.”

Jimmy frowned for a moment, as if contemplating his reserve of relationship advice. “You’ll get over her.”

“No, Jimmy. I don’t think I will.” He looked up at her house, wondering if she was up yet, maybe wandering around the kitchen preparing breakfast. Maybe she was still sleeping, comfortable and secure in her bedroom upstairs, or maybe already awake and creating fantastic articles from her office downstairs. No matter what she was doing, Luke was curious, and wanted to be there alongside her, witnessing and enjoying and sharing with her.

“You like her that much?”

“Jimmy, I
love
her.”

His friend was stunned to silence. “Damn. I thought I told you not to fall for her!”

“Believe me, I tried.” Luke sighed, turning to his friend. “I thought I’d be the last guy this happened to.”

“Same here,” Jimmy said. “Especially not with the one girl who didn’t fall all over herself for you.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but that’s another thing I love about her.”

“Wow.” Jimmy shook his head. “I almost can’t believe it. But then again, I think I saw this coming a mile away.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“For sure. You’ve never been so moony-eyed. You turned down how many trips to the bar to be with her! It’s like you’re somebody else these days.”

“In a bad way?”

“No, no, boss. Don’t get me wrong. All in good ways. There’s just been something different about you. What do the French people call it? I dunno...you’re a man in love, I guess.”

Luke cracked a grin and propped a ladder against the side of the construction van. He resisted the urge to rush inside the house and search top to bottom for Isabella. His patience was wearing thin but he knew if he saw her, unable to hold her or kiss her, it would only exacerbate his already swollen desire.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I fucked myself over,” Luke said.

“No, Mark fucked you over. And Isabella will realize that, if she loves you back.”

“But it’s my fault.” He sighed, feeling the familiar freight train of regret crashing through his body. “I’ve told her everything there is to tell, man. She’s just so stubborn. I know she hears me, I know she wants to be with me. But...” Luke sighed, stomach twisting. “Who knows what she’ll decide.”

“Listen, buddy, you can only do as much as you can do. Ain’t that right? Just show you care, and the rest will take care of itself.”

The bright morning sun was already pounding against his back and he tugged his shirt over his head, slinging it over his shoulder. He walked into the house, finding it empty and silent. The other workers hadn’t yet arrived, so the renovations hung in a state of suspended animation. He looked around the foyer, admiring the handiwork of his crew and their prowess in re-sculpting the interior of the house. He bounced his hand off the cast-iron hand railing of the winding staircase as he walked by, and dragged his fingers along the wooden paneling of the short hallway to the kitchen. He was surprised, as he was each morning, by the amount of sunlight that now flooded her kitchen. He glanced up at the big, square skylight, remembering how dark the kitchen was before his crew had gotten to it. They could be proud of this when it was all done...and there was very little left to finish. He headed to the rec room to scope out the day’s work.

When he rounded the corner into the room, he was surprised to find Isabella slouched on the couch, staring dully at the TV.

His heart thudded in his chest as he walked over to her. “Why are you up so early?”