Lost in You (35 page)

“That’s good,” I say as I rub my hands together to create some warmth. I don’t realize how cold I am until he hands me a cup of coffee. I wrap my hands around the mug, basking in the warmth.

I look at the door as it opens and smile. Alex and Cole are here and she looks happy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her happy. Mr. O’Malley walks over and gives her the same greeting. He pats
Cole on the shoulder and nods. He’s never forgiven Cole for cheating and I have to say, it’s taken me years to do it, but I have.

With the cup of coffee clutched in my hand we walk to a back booth and sit down. In the last year they’ve expanded and added
a pool table and dartboard. They’ve also added some flat-screen TVs, no doubt to watch sports.

We know the menu well and decide quickly what we’re having for dinner. Each of us orders a pint, appetizers and our main course. This is Cole’s birthday and thi
s is how he wants to spend it. I was surprised when he asked if we could come here. I thought for sure it would be a night of club-hopping with gyrating music. I have to admit, this is nice and almost perfect.

Before long the bar becomes too busy. The door
is constantly opening and closing and Mr. O’Malley is greeting each customer as if he’s known them for years. That’s the thing about this place, once you’re in, you’re in for life. I guess it’s like the mafia, but not as violent.

Alex talks about going d
ancing later, earning eye rolls from Cole and me. We’ll relent, we always do, but the thought of getting dressed up and going back out into the cold doesn’t really sit well with me at the moment.

Mr. O’Malley brings out a traditional Irish cream cake and
starts singing to Cole. He turns red and tries to hide his face, but Alex doesn’t allow it. I pull out my phone and videotape his embarrassment, something I’ll save for later when he’s pissing me off. Secretly, we all know Cole loves the attention he’s getting and when he blows out his candle he’s smiling like he just won a Grammy.

With Cole’s cake boxed up and Alex’s pleads to go dancing, we reluctantly leave our table. I’m hoping to call it a night when we get back to our place. At least that is my goal.
I’m just not in the dancing mood tonight. I follow behind Alex, with Cole leading the way. Alex pulls up short, causing me to ram right into her, breaking open the box holding the rest of Cole’s cake.

“What the hell, Alex?”

She turns and looks at me. She’s whiter than I’ve ever seen her dark complexion get. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s playing a corpse in some horror thriller.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She clenches my arms tightly and my mouth drops open in pain, but don’t want to say anything to cause alarm. Whatever has her spooked is doing quite a number on her.

“We should walk out the back.”

“Um, no,” I say. “My coat is up front where I always put it. What’s your problem?”

She looks over her shoulder, shaking her head before looking back
at me. Her eyes are sad and for the life of me I can’t understand why. She steps aside, taking the broken cake box from my hands. I look in the general direction and see nothing out of the ordinary.

Along the wall, the booths are patrons, which is normal f
or a Friday night. Others line the bar, a few of them yelling at the TV and some basketball game is on. With the clank of the pool table, I look over there for any clue as to what would make Alex freak out like this.

It doesn’t take long, just the mere loo
k in his eyes, to know why she stopped the way she did. He stands there in a dark t-shirt and jeans, looking far different from what I remember. His hair is shorter, but his arms… they’re large and defined with muscles. His shirt is tight enough to show that he’s definitely changed over the years.

I’m afraid to move or even blink. He stares right back as he holds the pool cue in his hand. My gaze is broken when she comes into the picture. She leans up on her tiptoes and whispers something in his ear that m
akes him smile. Who knew that witnessing such an act would make my heart ache so terribly? I bite my bottom lip hoping to keep my emotions in check. Her hand rests on his arm as she looks at me. She’s telling me everything I need to know. They’re together.

I can’t look anymore and tear my eyes away. I don’t know what I’m doing. One half wants to forget that I even saw him. The other half wants to walk over there and ask how he’s doing and how long he’s been in New York. Surely, if we were frequenting the s
ame bar, we’d run into each other. But then I remember I didn’t go out for a long time so I could get my life in order. I make the best decision for me and take a step toward him.

His eyes don’t leave mine as he watches me take step after step to get to hi
m, closer to him. His friends continue on with their game, ignoring what’s going on in this imaginary bubble that I’ve created. I size him up the closer I get and can’t believe how much he’s grown and how much I miss the baby face that he had. He’s all man now, an adult and it shows.

He hasn’t moved and doesn’t motion for us to sit down or anything. Maybe this is a mistake and he’s going to dismiss me like I did him. As much as it would hurt, I deserve it. That is another thing therapy taught me.

I have to fight every ounce of my body’s will to keep from jumping into his arms. He wouldn’t catch me. He’d let me fall flat on my face and maybe offer a hand to help me up. I’m nothing to him except a reminder of mistrust and pain.

But
I’m going to take a chance because I have to know if he’s the one.

“Hi.” I close my eyes and mentally chide myself for being ridiculous. Hi seems like such a simple thing to say and for this situation I need something profound and worthy of a response.

I look behind me and find Cole and Alex sitting at the bar. They aren’t watching me fumble through this meeting. They're letting me fall on my ass without an audience.

I clear my throat and try again. “Hi, Ryan, it’s good to see you.”

His eyes rake over my body, up and down, back and forth. His lower lip is being torn apart as he gnaws on it. I so desperately want to reach out and pull it out of his mouth and soothe it with my touch, but I lost that right a long time ago.

“I never thought I’d see you again.”
His words stab me right in my heart. He’s right. Why would he have any thought of ever seeing me again after what I did to him?

This isn’t a conversation I want to have in a crowded pub with people lingering around listening but pretending not to. I nod an
d acknowledge that yeah, I didn’t expect to see him either.

“You look really good.” He looks down at himself and back at me. There is no hint of happiness in the way he’s talking to me.

“Four years does that to some people.”

Ouch. Clearly this was a mista
ke. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I can finally close this chapter in my book. I was keeping it open in the hope that one day we’d cross paths again and could at least be friends, but I guess time
doesn’t
heal all wounds.

I look over at his friend, Dylan
, now clearly his girlfriend, only to find her staring at me. I can’t tell if she’s amused or threatened by me. Either way, she wins.

“It was good seeing you, Ryan.” I nod slightly and sidestep, brushing him lightly as I walk by. I weave in and out of the
tables, not bothering to call out to Alex and Cole. I just need to get away. I pull my coat off the rack and slide my arms into it as I walk out the door. I don’t care about the weather. I just need to get out of here before I break down in front of everyone.

I don’t need a reminder of what I did to him. It’s fresh in my mind and my songs. The brief time we spent together, it’s so vivid I could draw it out picture by picture. I have no doubt he’s my soul mate. I’m just not his.

The pounding footsteps behind me make me walk faster. I’ve never felt unsafe in the city before and right now I feel very close to running except I’m at the steps to my apartment. With my foot on the first step, I tell myself not to look behind me.

“Hadley, wait,” he says as he grabs
my arm, stopping me dead in my tracks. I step back down and face him. He’s wearing a sweatshirt. No hat or gloves to keep him warm. “I froze back there. I didn’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“It’s good to see you too, by the way. A little shocking, but still good.”

“How long have you been in New York?”

“Just over four years. We moved after graduation.”

“We?”

“Dylan and I. Do you remember her?” He looks over his shoulder like she should be right behind him. She’s probably lurking in the bushes, waiting to pounce on me for talking to her man.

“Yeah, I remember her.”

“We have a place not too far from here. Well, five or six blocks away, but still close.”

Great, they live together. The question is at the forefront of my mind. I’m dying to know
so I ask. “How long have you been together?”

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “We aren’t together. We just live together. It’s cheaper to have a roommate.”

My body sighs with relief although I’m stupid to think he’s single. He’s far too good looking to be single. He steps forward, close enough that I can smell his cologne. His hands encase my cheeks so fast I don’t know what’s happening. Before I can react, his lips are on mine and I’m giving him all the access he wants. I’m no longer in control of my body. It’s taken over and submitted to him.

He kisses me fast and urgent at first, before slowing down and taking his time. He places small kisses on my lips, resting his forehead against mine.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. I’m not. I’m so not sorry that he just kissed me and hate that he is. “I just had to know.”

“Know what?”

“If you’re the one.”

Ryan

If someone told me this morning that I was going to run into Hadley Carter today I would’ve laughed in their face. I haven’t thought about her in years. No, that’s a lie. Each time I began dating someone and things started getting serious, I would think of Hadley. I would compare them and end up ruining my relationship. I’ve had one serious girlfriend since Hadley and I’m not counting Dylan, because that was more of an exploration relationship.

I had met this girl in business class and she reminded me of Hadley. I thought it could work and it did for about a year. She started dropping hi
nts about getting engaged and how a spring wedding in New York would be so beautiful. I didn’t panic or freak out. I simply told her that she wasn’t the one I saw when I closed my eyes at night. Since then I dated occasionally, nothing serious because there’s no point in going head first into something if she isn’t the one you see in your dreams.

During the winter our Friday nights are spent at O’Malley’s. It’s been tradition for about a year or maybe longer. It started when Dylan brought one of the O’Malle
y boys home. I liked John well enough and we’ve become friends.

I don’t know what told me to turn around, but something did. Part of me is not sorry that I saw her, while the other part wishes I never turned around at all. I could’ve gone the rest of my l
ife never seeing her again because living the nightmare from when she left me was enough the first time. But there she stands, staring at me. In shock, I’m sure. Just as I never expected to see her, I have no doubt she never expected to find me here, in her city.

I’m frozen. My legs don’t want to move even though I’m begging them to step forward or back. Anything to let me relax from this rigid posture I’ve got going on. The cue stick in my hand is breaking from my grip. I can feel it splintering beneath my
fingers.

Dylan reaches up and whispers into my ear. “I’m going to kick you in the balls if you don’t smile right now.”

I smile simply from the fear of getting kicked. I know she did it on purpose. She remembers everything clearly and doesn’t want to see me going through it again. I watch as Hadley stares at Dylan and turns red when Dylan rests her hand on my arm a bit longer than normal. There’s no doubt in my mind that Hadley is jealous of Dylan, just as I’m jealous of the guy she’s with. I remember him from the magazine covers and photos I found online back when we broke up. I know who he is and know that he’s looking over at me every few seconds wondering what I’m going to do with his precious girl.

She steps forward, one foot in front of the other, as
she makes her way over here. It would be nice if I could move as well, but I’m cemented to the ground. Not too many things have changed about her in the last four years. Her features are softer and she’s wearing less make-up. Her hair is down, the top hidden by a wool hat. She’s wearing black boots and a dark gray skirt and black sweater. She’s clearly dressed for the elements and not for the stage.

I remember that she used to wear cowboy boots and short dresses and she loved it because it felt more natura
l than that “leather contraption”. The time I pinned her against the tree outside of my church flashes in my mind. Countless times I’ve replayed that image and wondered why I didn’t trail my hands up her thighs when I had the opportunity. Her skin was begging to be touched, caressed, and she was allowing me to do it. I just didn’t know it until it was too late.