The kiss isn’t long, but it isn’t short. It’s incredible.
Our lips glide over one another’s for a few minutes, and then I take a shaky step back. I’m not sure what the hell that was, but I’m fairly certain it shouldn’t have happened. Our eyes hold, and then I turn, walking back to the cake. For a few minutes, neither of us says anything. After a bit, I figure the best thing to do is to just keep going, and not make a big deal of it.
So, that’s what I do.
“This cake is going to be amazing!”
Roman walks up beside me and shoves his finger in the mix and puts it into his mouth. “I dunno,” he murmurs. “I think it’s pretty average.”
I shove him.
He shoves me back.
“So, heard anymore from dickface in the last few weeks?” he asks me.
I shake my head. “Nah, not at all. I think he finally got the point.”
“You hurt about that?”
I think about it. Honestly, I don’t think my feelings for Michael were ever what they were supposed to be, but I only see that now. Sometimes I still think about it, and it hurts, but I realise it was the best thing that could have ever happened, me moving on from him.
“Sometimes I think I still have lingering feelings for him, but then I think about how he behaved and I honestly think I’m over it. It still hurts sometimes, the way he treated me, but I’m better for it now.”
“Yeah, I feel ya.”
I turn to him. “What about you? How are you coping?”
He shrugs. “I’m getting there. Some days I’m a bit down, but mostly I’m angry now. Angry that she just didn’t give a crap. I expected it, obviously, but it still hurts to think about.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
My heart pounds as I wait for his answer. “Nah. I haven’t.”
That must be hard, but I don’t say anything more about it. He doesn’t need to be reminded of it, I’m sure. He’s been through enough, he doesn’t need me constantly bringing it to his attention.
“We should do something before you go back to work?” I suggest.
“Yeah, for sure. What do you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. We should go and stay out at your property and do some more shooting.”
He nods, eyes lighting up. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll organise it for the weekend. We can camp the night!”
“Yeah, awesome.” I smile. “Sounds fun.”
He grins. “We’ll get heaps more watermelons this time, make it count.”
I laugh. “Sounds good!”
We continue baking, and when we’re done, curl up and watch re-runs of Seinfeld on television.
It feels good to have him back in my life.
But I just can’t fight the constant fear that she will jump back and take that from me again.
And I don’t think I could handle that.
I don’t think I can nearly lose him twice.
~*~*~*~
M – Are you ok?
I glance down at my phone. I haven’t heard from Roman for a whole day. That’s unusual. He never not answers me. Never. My stomach twists and that panicked feeling washes over my body. Is he talking to her? Did she ring him up? Oh, God, is he going to take her back and leave me, and he’s just too afraid to tell me that? My mind goes crazy, and the longer he doesn’t reply, the worse it gets.
God damn.
Stop being stupid, Molly.
He’s probably just busy.
But something in my gut says something isn’t right. Something just tells me it’s not okay. I text him again.
M – I’m worried. Are you ok? Please tell me you’re okay?
Another hour passes and night falls, but nothing comes through. Finally, around eight PM, I get a message.
R – I’m ok.
No.
No, he’s not.
Every bad thought I’ve had flashes through my mind, and I start conjuring up every terrible scenario in my head. One thing I know for sure, is that he’s spoken to her. The shift in his mood, the way he’s acting, it’s unlike him. And because of that, I know it has to do with her. Tears fill my eyes, and my heart aches in a way I haven’t experienced before. Was I stupid thinking that he really was trying to move on?
Have I done it again?
Have I fooled myself once again?
I grab my car keys and decide to go over there and see if he’s okay.
The drive seems like it takes forever, and when I arrive he’s sitting out the front with a beer. I climb out of the car and walk up to him, smiling even though the panic and fear inside me feels like it’s consuming me.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. I was worried about you.”
“I’m all good.”
He’s not.
I can see it in his eyes. The pain.
Dammit.
God. Dammit.
One step forward, two steps backwards.
“You’re not,” I say, sitting down on the free chair beside him.
“Have a beer with me.”
He slides me a beer and I take it. His phone makes a beeping sound, and he glances down at it, responds, and then looks back to me. Is that her texting him? Oh, God. An unfamiliar panic rises in my chest, and because of it, I make the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I push him. I think about my own feelings. I let my insecurities rise to the surface and eat me alive. And I do something I can’t take back.
“You’re talking to her again, aren’t you?” I snap, hating the way my voice sounds.
His eyes flash to me. “I don’t want your judgement, Molly.”
Pain explodes in my chest. Dammit. He’s talking to her. We’re going to go back to square one. We’re going to push him through this yet again.
“You said you weren’t going to talk with her.”
Who is this girl speaking?
He narrows his eyes. “It was fucking once, and it was an amicable conversation.”
“You ignored me all afternoon.”
His jaw tics and his eyes flash with anger. “Yeah because it might have been a friendly, simple conversation but it still takes some time to recover from. I don’t need you judging me right now. I just need you to let me be.”
“How did it feel?” I snap. “Honestly? How did talking to her make you feel? Did it make you feel good? You’re never going to move on if you don’t stop.”