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 natural 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.
“Hi.” Her eyes close instantly like she’s being forced over here to talk to me. I don’t need her to talk to me. I don’t need anything from her.
She clears her throat, but doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t look into my eyes when she says, “Hi, Ryan, it’s good to see you.”
Is it? I want to ask but can’t find my voice. I hadn’t realized how much anger I have pent up inside and I’m afraid to open my mouth. Afraid of what’s going to come out.
I look her over just like I’d check out any other woman standing in front of me. At one time I wanted to know every inch of her body and had the pleasure of staring at my own map of discovery until things went south. I pull in my lower lip, a habit I’ve developed over the years and bite the shit out of it to help keep my mouth shut, but it doesn’t work.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” I blurt out with such acid I don’t know where it came from. When I ran this line over in my head, it didn’t sound like that. Thing is, I’m not so sure I want to take the words back either. I have so much to say to her, so much that I want to ask her, but I know she’s not going to let that happen.
“You look really good.” I look down at myself and think about how hard I’ve had to work to look this way. I’m finally getting noticed. When I walk into a crowded room, people stop and I like that. No longer am I the one sitting in the corner with no one to talk to. Those days are gone.
“Four years does that to some people.” I’m snide with my remark and she knows it. She looks over my shoulder and I don’t have to turn to know who’s behind me. Dylan hates her.
“It was good seeing you, Ryan.” She nods and brushes past me so fast I don’t have time to react. I’m mentally kicking myself in my balls for being a dick. I watch as she grabs her coat and throws it on hastily. She pushes open the door to the pub and steps out before I know what’s happening.
I’ve been looking for her in every girl I date and when I finally have her in front of me again not only do I freeze, but I’m a total prick. I grab my sweatshirt off the chair, dropping the pool cue and take off after her.
I step out, the harsh cold catching me off guard, making my eyes water as I look left then right for her. I see her crossing the street and walk after her. I don’t want to startle her, but I also don’t want to yell out her name on the street. She walks faster, cautious of someone following her. I reach for her arm, just as she takes the first step on a staircase leading to a well-lit building.
“Hadley, wait.” My voice is pleading. I need for her to hear me out. The doorman looks at me and I instantly drop my hand. I don’t want him coming outside and ruining the plan forming in my head. “I froze back there. I didn’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
I wish I did. I wish I understood what’s going on in my head right now. “It’s good to see you too, by the way. A little shocking, but still good.” Very good because staring back at me are the brown eyes that have haunted my dreams since I was seventeen years old.
“How long have you been in New York?”
“Just over four years. We moved after graduation.” The shock on her face is evident. I’ve been in her city for a long time and not once have we run into each other.