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The email with the update to my calendar is the first thing I see when I wake up the next morning, and I assume it’s a follow-up about my promotion and my new position and everything it entails, but I still feel a slight pang of worry that it could be about something else. The rest of the email states that I don’t need to come into the office before the meeting in case I’m still feeling a bit jetlagged, so it’s on my mind for the entire morning. At noon, I’m walking into a bistro across town, my mind still on the fact that Chris hasn’t been in contact. I’m being led towards the back where there’s apparently a private room and I have a moment of déjà vu. I shake the memory of my first official date with Chris from my head just as the hostess gives me a smile and motions toward the room.
I push through the door and all of the air leaves my lungs when I see Chris sitting at the table, a small smile pulling at his lips as he rests his forearms on the table. My mouth drops open in shock as I move slowly through the room, and he stands. He looks just as gorgeous as I remember, dressed in a gray suit like maybe he’d come from a meeting. I was so unprepared to see him that I can’t even speak.
“Remember me?” He gives me a cocky grin and my heart squeezes at the look he’s giving me.
I move quicker to close the space between us, dropping my bag in the chair, and then I’m in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my face to the skin, the tears building in my eyes as he holds me tight against him. My heart feels like it’s beating so fast it could pound out of my chest, and I am struggling to control my breathing. I inhale deeply which does nothing for my nerves because I’m just breathing him in. Breathing in his scent that has the power to turn me on and also make my heart flutter. His hand trails up my spine, pushing me harder against him and then his lips are dragging across my forehead gently.
“I guess that’s a yes,” he jokes and I pull away, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes but he swats my hands away so he can do it himself.
“Chris,” is the only thing I manage to choke out as he guides me into a seat. He sits in the one closest to me and somehow it doesn’t feel close enough. I want to be in his lap. Hell, I want to be naked and in his lap.
“Welcome home, baby,” he says and my eyes snap to his because if this is his reaction to me coming home, what was last night about?
“I called you last night.”
“I saw.” He chuckles as his index finger traces my knuckles. “Thought I might give you a taste of your own medicine for ignoring me for over two years.”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Not a peep out of you for that long? Drove me fucking crazy.”
“It’s not like you reached out either,” I argue.
“Yes, I did.”
“When?”
“I emailed you. Constantly. I figured at first you weren’t responding because I was still married, but I wanted you to know I was still thinking about you. I was always thinking about you. About us.”
I frown. “I…I never saw an email from you?”
It’s his turn to look confused as he pulls out his phone and looks through it for a moment before he hands it to me and I see an email chain of at least fifty emails all addressed to me. I scroll through a few of them, some of them long and some of them short but all of them unfamiliar.
“I…I never saw these.” I grab my phone out of my purse and pull up my emails.
“Sounds like you blocked me.” He laughs and I look at my phone and then back at him trying to remember if I had at some point.
I scroll through them for a minute, unsure of how I would have even done it before setting my phone down, prepared to look into that later. “Why didn’t you call?” I ask because I know for a fact that I didn’t block his number. I’d gone to text him at least half a dozen times over the past two years.
“I thought you were done with me,” he says sadly. “Especially after all the unanswered emails, but more importantly, you asked me not to try to get you back until I was divorced. I’ve only been officially divorced for about a month and I knew you were coming home. I figured it would be better to do this in person.”
“You’re…officially divorced?” I need him to say it again. Maybe a few more times to believe it. To believe that this man that I’ve been thinking about for almost three years now is finally single.
“I am.” He nods. “Fucking finally.”
“Where do you live?” I ask him.
“My penthouse. We sold the house.” He sighs. “One of the many things she got half of.”
I bite my bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. All of that was just stuff. Replaceable. I wish it didn’t take me so long to get that.”
“Was it messy?”
“If you bothered to read any of my emails, you’d know,” he teases and a smile pulls at his lips. “I gave you a play by play.”
