Love UnCharted (Love's Improbable Possibility)

It was nearly three in the morning when I arrived to my house in Redondo Beach. The place had a nimbus of abandonment and smelled of vacant dwellings. After unpacking Azna’s things to at least get him comfortable, I showered and made my way to my bed. I pulled back the stale covers and crawled in, hoping to fall asleep right away, but when I tried to find comfort on my stiff mattress, my blues started setting again. This isn’t Azmir’s oversized, plush mattress. Neither does it smell of him. I tried tricking my mind into believing I was at a hotel, on neutral grounds. I’m not sure if that helped or not, but I did fall asleep eventually.

My alarm went off, startling me from my sleep. I jumped from my pillow, trying to convince myself that I had gotten more than ten minutes of sleep. The thought of calling out crossed my mind, but I decided not to because it would leave me too much time to think about my breakup with Azmir. I got up to let Azna handle his business while I surveyed my home. Since moving in with Azmir, I’d stopped by from time to time to check on the place and do a little housekeeping, but now that I’m back, I regret not doing more. I figured that it all had to wait until later because I needed to get ready for work.

Day one of my breakup was painful, however, not as bad as I’d thought. The morning flew by and my lunch hour arrived quickly, much to my surprise. There was a knock at the door. It was Sharon telling me I had a guest. My heart jumped into my stomach, fearing it was Azmir. I took a deep swallow then gave her a nod, granting permission to let them in. Much to my disappointment, it was Brian Thompson.

“Good afternoon.” Thompson looked tense. The wrinkling of his forehead and the squareness of his shoulders told it all.

“Good afternoon. Is everything okay, Thompson?” I dipped my chin in anticipation.

“I hope so. I wondered if I could get a moment of your time and thought the lunch hour would be the most opportune. Is it a good time?” he asked before taking a seat. His apprehensive approach concerned me.

What is this about? I wondered. Then I was immediately hit with a revelation. Crap…Azmir!

“Sure,” I gestured toward the seat in front of my desk. “Look, Thompson, I apologize for that embarrassing episode the other night. I have no explanation or justification for—”

“I know you don’t and I appreciate your compassion, but I need to know what is the story between you and Azmir Jacobs. Is he your boyfriend? Is he the jealous type? Because he was pretty threatening a couple of nights ago.”

“Did he threaten you?” The hairs on the back of my neck straightened. I’d become embarrassed.

“Not directly. He seems like the savvy type that knows how to without crossing the line.”

I sighed. Azmir was really pissed that night, so I was relieved; it could’ve ended much more cyclonic than it did. I didn’t forget about Brian’s place card trickery and neither did Azmir, I’m sure.

“Again, I apologize. He obviously got the wrong impression of what was going on.”

“No, he was one hundred percent clear on what was happening. A man knows when another man is on the prowl.”

I squinted my eyes. “Huhn?”

“Rayna, I will admit that I am attracted to you and would like the opportunity to get to know you better. It’s been on my agenda since the first day I came here to start data sharing. It’s taken some time for you to soften to me and now I’m viewing Azmir as a problem. You’ve never said he was your boyfriend, but by the looks of it two nights ago, he is. Not to mention his abrupt introduction at the charity ball. So, I was hoping to get a straight answer from you, hence my visit.”

I swallowed hard trying to process all he’d just said. He did just put it out there, he was interested. As much as I was available at the time, I had no interest in taking on a relationship with Brian. There was something about him that didn’t work for me. Thompson was too forward, more aggressive than I preferred. There was something hidden beneath his forcefulness. I’d just never invested the time to figure out what it was.

Too wrapped up in A.D. land.

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