dress?”
She nodded. “Yes, all of my clothes are new. I had to start over, remember?”
All she wanted was for Peter to get to the point. Why did he need to meet with her in person, forcing her to endure his devastating smile, hard body and hypnotic eyes?
Confessions. Redemption. For several months, she’d hoped for reconciliation, but seeing him like this, in this environment, in this light, brought back all the hard memories — the pain, the loneliness, the rejection.
She toyed with asking him
why
? Why did he leave? What happened? But she feared she’d sound desperate, insecure and needy. She wanted him to have the impression that she didn’t care one way or the other, that he was inconsequential.
And even though she was forced to stare into his probing brown eyes, watching him lick his lips when he thought they were a little dry, noticing his muscles flex when he lifted his cup to his mouth, she saw that he was contrite, as he should have been. She sipped her tepid coffee.
“When I said I want us to have a second chance,” he began, “I meant at being civil toward one another. We once loved and respected each other enough to get married. Why shouldn’t we be able to have a decent relationship now that we aren’t married?”
She nearly spat out her coffee. What a crock. He was testing her a few days ago to see how she’d respond. She knew Peter. She understood how his mind worked.
“Why now, Pea? I mean, I’ve moved on and you’ve clearly moved on. We really don’t have any reason to be civil or even in contact.”
He got up and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, caressing her earlobe. He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear.
“Not having you in my life makes it seem meaningless.”
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to accept that he’d seen the light, that he’d had his burning bush moment.
21
Forget her.
That’s what Preston kept telling himself. Don’t think about her. Stay away and no calls. Simple. Straightforward. Concise. Yet, it was probably the hardest thing he’d ever attempted to do.
He loved Iris. He knew ever since their first date that he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her, laughing with her, loving her. She was the best thing that’d ever happened to him.
Now, because of Peter, because of the unwritten social rule about brothers’ and friends’ exes being off limits, Preston felt he could no longer be a part of her life. It was the right thing to do.
He tied his running shoes and started out to break in his brand new bike. He rode until he reached the lakefront trail then locked his bike on the rack and ran meditatively for miles. His mind was on only one thing — Iris. He missed her. He needed her. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Iris’ building on Chestnut, contemplating ringing the buzzer. He just wanted to see her, maybe talk to her.
But he didn’t buzz her. He jogged down Michigan Avenue, still trying to work things out in his head. He hadn’t known her long — surely he could put her behind him and move on.
As he ran along, he saw her sitting in Yolk, holding hands with Peter. He stopped and stood, staring in the window, befuddled. Peter got up and sat beside her, caressing her ear. Preston stumbled back when he watched Peter kiss her. She didn’t resist. He stood there frozen, glowering.
He put both his hands on the top of his head and bent over as if someone had hit him in the stomach. A couple of kids on skateboards rode by, forcing him to move. When he looked up, Iris’ eyes connected with his.
He turned on his heels and jogged back to his bike then returned to the hotel. He stood at the window looking out at his magnificent view — alone.
***
Iris ran out of the restaurant but Preston was gone. She stomped her foot and threw her body in a twist of disappointment. Peter ran out after her. He rested his hands on her shoulders but she pulled
She nodded. “Yes, all of my clothes are new. I had to start over, remember?”
All she wanted was for Peter to get to the point. Why did he need to meet with her in person, forcing her to endure his devastating smile, hard body and hypnotic eyes?
Confessions. Redemption. For several months, she’d hoped for reconciliation, but seeing him like this, in this environment, in this light, brought back all the hard memories — the pain, the loneliness, the rejection.
She toyed with asking him
why
? Why did he leave? What happened? But she feared she’d sound desperate, insecure and needy. She wanted him to have the impression that she didn’t care one way or the other, that he was inconsequential.
And even though she was forced to stare into his probing brown eyes, watching him lick his lips when he thought they were a little dry, noticing his muscles flex when he lifted his cup to his mouth, she saw that he was contrite, as he should have been. She sipped her tepid coffee.
“When I said I want us to have a second chance,” he began, “I meant at being civil toward one another. We once loved and respected each other enough to get married. Why shouldn’t we be able to have a decent relationship now that we aren’t married?”
She nearly spat out her coffee. What a crock. He was testing her a few days ago to see how she’d respond. She knew Peter. She understood how his mind worked.
“Why now, Pea? I mean, I’ve moved on and you’ve clearly moved on. We really don’t have any reason to be civil or even in contact.”
He got up and sat beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, caressing her earlobe. He kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear.
“Not having you in my life makes it seem meaningless.”
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to accept that he’d seen the light, that he’d had his burning bush moment.
21
Forget her.
That’s what Preston kept telling himself. Don’t think about her. Stay away and no calls. Simple. Straightforward. Concise. Yet, it was probably the hardest thing he’d ever attempted to do.
He loved Iris. He knew ever since their first date that he wanted to spend the rest of his life looking at her, laughing with her, loving her. She was the best thing that’d ever happened to him.
Now, because of Peter, because of the unwritten social rule about brothers’ and friends’ exes being off limits, Preston felt he could no longer be a part of her life. It was the right thing to do.
He tied his running shoes and started out to break in his brand new bike. He rode until he reached the lakefront trail then locked his bike on the rack and ran meditatively for miles. His mind was on only one thing — Iris. He missed her. He needed her. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of Iris’ building on Chestnut, contemplating ringing the buzzer. He just wanted to see her, maybe talk to her.
But he didn’t buzz her. He jogged down Michigan Avenue, still trying to work things out in his head. He hadn’t known her long — surely he could put her behind him and move on.
As he ran along, he saw her sitting in Yolk, holding hands with Peter. He stopped and stood, staring in the window, befuddled. Peter got up and sat beside her, caressing her ear. Preston stumbled back when he watched Peter kiss her. She didn’t resist. He stood there frozen, glowering.
He put both his hands on the top of his head and bent over as if someone had hit him in the stomach. A couple of kids on skateboards rode by, forcing him to move. When he looked up, Iris’ eyes connected with his.
He turned on his heels and jogged back to his bike then returned to the hotel. He stood at the window looking out at his magnificent view — alone.
***
Iris ran out of the restaurant but Preston was gone. She stomped her foot and threw her body in a twist of disappointment. Peter ran out after her. He rested his hands on her shoulders but she pulled
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