But lying in bed every night, tears sliding from my eyes, I knew. I knew that if Sam could see me come home from my long walk on the beach and know I came to the conclusion I came to and still not give me what I needed, he’d accept this. No amount of time, effort and patience was going to give me all of Sam.
I also gave a serious amount of headspace to considering if I should just take Sam as he could give himself to me. This was harder to come to grips with. What he gave would be enough for any woman much less me who only had Cooter as a comparison.
But something in my heart was telling me it wouldn’t work. Resentment would build. Ugliness would form. I didn’t want what Sam and I had to move in that direction. That would hurt worse.
And, bottom line, walking out on your woman to do whatever it was he intended to do without explanation, even minimal, well, that shit was not right.
So there I was, in England, with my friends, discovering new things, in the loving company of Celeste and Thomas, trying to mend my heart.
But at that moment, I really didn’t want to be out on the streets doing what I was going to be doing but Celeste encouraged me to do so. Then Thomas did.
I was at the Tate Modern museum the day before when I met him. We struck up a conversation. He heard my accent, I told him I was in London for a few weeks, he told me he’d lived in London for thirty-three years and then he suggested we should meet for coffee so he could tell me what to see that tourists didn’t normally see. Before I knew what was happening, we had plans to meet for coffee the next day.
I wanted to stand him up. But when I told Celeste about it, she encouraged me to go. Then she told Thomas and he encouraged me to go. Since it was Celeste and Thomas, they were wise, they cared about me and I cared about them, I really couldn’t say no.
And anyway, I didn’t have the strength left to fight them on it so there I was, going.
When I got to the area he told me the café was, I got a little lost. I was about to give up (and, truthfully, I didn’t try very hard before deciding to give up) when I saw the café.
Damn.
Right. Whatever. It was just a cup of coffee with a guy I met at a museum. And anyway, I wanted to see the London not many tourists got to see. Even Celeste and Thomas hadn’t been living there long enough to show that to me.
I moved inside and as I did, that feeling came back that I had eyes on me. I looked over my shoulder and again saw nothing but rushing Londoners and clueless-looking tourists.
What was up with me?
I shook it off, turned into the café and saw him.
Then it hit me I didn’t remember his name.
Shit.
Was it Jason? Jacob? Jeremy?
Shit!
He smiled at me, rising from his seat.
Shit.
Okay, just do this.
I smiled back and moved through the café. When I got there, he surprised me by rounding the table then getting in my space. Not way in my space but more than a fifteen minute conversation in front of a totally weird installation in an internationally known museum should allow. His hand came to my waist, his head bent in and his lips swept my cheek.
It was then I felt a burning intensity that was totally, totally weird. Like two laser beams were searing with pinpoint precision in my back.
I pulled away, moved back instantly, turned and glanced through the busy café.
Nothing.
Seriously, what was the matter with me?
I looked back at Jason/Jacob/Jeremy. That lip sweep was not a cheek touch or even a lip touch. It was more.
I saw the warmth in his eyes as he murmured, “Kia.”
Oh hell, he thought this was a date.
Shit!
“Uh… hi,” I replied then made a decision. “I… you…” Damn. What did I say? “Well, I’m so sorry but I’d agreed to meet you without talking to my friend, Celeste. She made plans for us this afternoon and I don’t have much time. You and I didn’t exchange numbers so I couldn’t call you and I didn’t want you sitting here, waiting for me and not knowing what had become of me. I’m so sorry but I only have a few minutes to have a cup of coffee with you. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jason/Jacob/Jeremy minded; I could see it in the flash of irritation in his eyes.
Whatever.
I didn’t have enough energy for Jason/Jacob/Jeremy’s irritation either.
“I’ll just run and get a latte,” I told him then, as he was opening his mouth probably to be a gentleman and offer to buy one for me which would make this friendly meeting into a semi-kinda-date, I dashed to the counter, stood in line and bought a small latte.
Then I went back to the table and quizzed him about what I should see in London. This lasted fifteen minutes. Several times, he attempted to ask questions about me or steer us in other directions but I kept him on target. I also sucked back my latte as fast as I could.
After the final sip, I quickly and rudely stood, announcing, “I know this is rude and thank you for giving your time to me. I really appreciate it. But I have to go. I’m so sorry.”