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“You’re in the overthinking phase again.”
“I am not.” I sigh. I am, and I know it. Dang it.
“Don’t sabotage yourself. Like you said, it might be your best chance for closure.”
I shake my head. “He’s got a chip on his shoulder.”
“I believe it. I was there when he suddenly became a mega big jerk and dumped you, remember? But it was years ago, and you’ve forgiven him, even if I’m not there yet. Maybe you need to get the grumpy guy to talk.”
I wave my fork back and forth. “Rockwell’s not exactly grumpy. More serious and extremely careful. The Rockwell I remember was up for anything. This guy has blinders on and isn’t deviating from his new life plan—which might be working and working out. Whatever it is—it has the word work in it. Even if I was open to something, he isn’t.” I shove a bite into my mouth. I’m not heartbroken or anything. It’s been great seeing Rockwell again, and being near him has awakened my comatose heart, but I’m more stuck on what’s missing with him.
I can’t help but think about the night he left Bearwood—the same night his parents split. He broke up with me and took off. I found out later about his parents and tried to call him. I knew he was upset over his parents and was certain he needed me to talk it out. But he didn’t need me at all. He would have answered my calls or responded to a single text if it were true. I’d be lying if I said it still didn’t sting.
“It’s good he’s being careful because we wouldn’t want him to make the same mistake twice.” Gabby says, stealing my fork and eating a bite of my lasagna. Through her chewing she says, “Oh, this is good.” She swallows and uses a tissue to dab her lips. “Worst case scenario, you go on a few dates. It wouldn’t hurt for you to put yourself back out there. It’s been a while, and Rockwell should do his part in this dating therapy.”
“Dating therapy?”
“Closure dating. It’s gotta be a thing. Besides, this was your idea, not mine. I’m just trying to be supportive so you can have healthy relationships again in the future.”
“Okay, but how am I supposed to get him to date me? I can’t feed him lasagna every day.”
Gabby shrugs. “It’s been a long time since he’s even seen you. You can’t expect sparks to fly on day one. And if they don’t fly, then even better, right?”
They were flying onminuteone. On my end, that is. “I don’t want to tempt fate by forcing anything.”
Gabby grabs my phone. “Text him.”
“What?”
“I know you have his number.”
My eyes widen. “How do you know?”
“Because you never deleted it.”
There’s no use lying. Gabby knows me too well. “It’s been forever. Of course he has a new number.”
Gabby gives me a smug look. “I’ll try it and see.”
“What? Fine, take my lasagna and give me my phone.”
She happily takes the swap. “Tell him there’s more lasagna in the fridge if he wants to get himself a piece for lunch. Also tell him where your spare key is.”
I laugh like she is ridiculous, because she is. “I would never do that.”
“Please, please, please. Remember my speech on regrets? If it’s not meant to be, you still have to dig a little deeper if you’re going to get over him.”
I huff and open my phone. Her logic is far too convincing. I type a quick text and send it to him. “It’s not tempting fate because he isn’t going to get the text. He has a new number now so, thanks to you, a stranger is now going to know where my key is.”
My phone vibrates and my pulse races. I pick it up and see the response from Rockwell. The actual Rockwell. Crap. He wasn’t supposed to get the text!
ROCKWELL:I was dreaming about your lasagna. Thanks *hungry face emoji*
I cringe. “But if he deleted my contact info, how did he know it was me?”
“Who else fed him lasagna last night?” Gabby shakes her head like I’m a complete idiot. "Or maybe he never deleted your number either?” She says, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Right.” And now he has my number if he didn’t before. I don’t know how to feel about it. I type in a quick response.
