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So why am I standing in the doorway of the kitchen, holding down a rush of emotions at the thought of cooking dinner for myself and settling down on the couch to watch TV?
I don’t bother offering myself multiple choices for my emotional state. I already know the reason.
I shouldn’t have left her there like that.
I could have said something to indicate my predicament and mental gymnastics. Let her know how deeply I’m considering her offer. Let her know how much she means to me.
Instead, I just walked out with only a single word.
Bye.
The thought haunts me.
I cross the kitchen and pull a bottle of beer from the fridge before heading to my study. As I sink into my favorite chair, the one that faces a massive window overlooking the forest on the back half of my property, I pull out my phone.
My plan is to call her and explain why I left, explain that this whole thing took me by surprise but I’m working through it.
But first I have to change her contact info back to Victoria, and away from Do Not Answer, which was what I changed it to while waiting for my helicopter on Merit.
It would have been simpler to actually block her number, like I told her I had, but I couldn’t give up the test of my control I’d undergo by having her texts and voicemails sitting in my phone and not reading or listening to them.
I’d won the game. I never opened a single one, but I hate thinking about what the prize for that kind of behavior could be.
A lifetime of loneliness?
Congratulations, Ben. You’re the most in control man alive. You can now die alone in your giant house.
I curse myself for once again allowing those despondent thoughts to sneak through my mental firewall and take another long sip of beer.
I’m in no state to talk to anyone, not after those two conversations in the car. I’ve got some real thinking to do.
With a heavy sigh, I hit play on the first voicemail.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Victoria
“Iusually do three quarters bright at the very front, and half bright for the rest of the room. Especially for these early morning classes.”
I smile and watch my trainer, Sandra, adjust the lighting in the cool, quiet studio.
I’m getting set up for my first class at Lotus Studio. It’s an intro to Pilates class, and I’ll be observed by Sandra the whole time, but I’m still really excited. This is the first step toward becoming certified to teach the kind of rehabilitation Pilates that got me back on my feet. I’m overjoyed and grateful that the nice people at Lotus took a chance on me and put me right on the schedule.
“We’ve got a handful of students signed up for this class, so why don’t you go out to the front desk and help them get signed in and grab their props. I’ll take care of getting the air turned on and sweeping the room.”
“Okay. Thanks, Sandra.” I smile and head out to the lobby where I can hear the bell on the door announcing the first student’s arrival.
I’m just turning the corner to greet them when I stop dead in my tracks.
It’s Ben.
We haven’t spoken since the day before yesterday when he left my apartment. I’m not sure if I expected him to call, but he didn’t. I didn’t have the heart to try calling and getting his voicemail for the millionth time.
I committed to being patient. I told him that we could take it slow, and I plan to keep that promise.
Right now, though, with him strolling into the Pilates studio to take my class, looking fine as hell in his gray joggers and hoodie, the last thing I want to do is take it slow. I want to take a running leap into his arms.
“Morning,” he says, and I curse myself for not getting my shit together fast enough to greet him first.
