The sound of my stomach gurgling breaks the silence between us. Chuckling, Aaron puts a few inches between us and looks at me. “Hungry?”
Shyly I nod. “I think my stomach is trying to communicate to me.”
“Sounds like it.” He presses a kiss against my forehead and steps toward his fridge. “Let me see what I have.” When he opens the fridge door, he winces. “Shit.” A low chuckle comes out of him as he scratches his chest. “Uh, I kind of have beer and that’s it.”
I roll my eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” I hop off the counter. “Come on, I have food at my place.”
“Lucky Charms?” he asks, looking a little too excited.
“Lucky Charms puts unwanted weight on my hips, so no. I have Special K, cereal, and eggs. Which I’m shocked you don’t have any eggs, Mr. I-Eat-Ten-a-Day.”
“It’s not ten.” He laughs behind me and grabs a sweatshirt from his coat closet. He quickly puts it on before we head outside.
“Whatever, you should always have eggs.”
“I planned on going to the store today, but I was wrapped up in something.”
I slip on my shoes and head out his front door. “Are you complaining?”
“Fuck. No.” He steps out on the porch and then quickly heads back in his house. “Shit, I need shoes. The ground is frozen. Give me a second, I’ll be right over.”
“Hurry up, my stomach isn’t going to wait.” He places a chaste kiss on my lips and takes off into the house.
Smiling, I fold my arms over my chest and walk to my house, my eyes transfixed on the ground below me, remembering the last twelve hours and how delightfully real they were. I’m back with Aaron Walters. It’s almost unbelievable. After the way we left everything, I never thought we’d be together again. It’s as if we needed to break up to be put back together again. And for my precious father to have helped me open my eyes, I’m in awe. And so thankful. I know I’ll need to talk to Trey at some point, but right now, I’m in a dazed state of euphoria.
Shaking my head, I make it to my walkway and halt in place when I see someone on my porch. My heart jumps in its place when I step back, startled. About to flee to Aaron’s, my hand to my chest, a scream ready to pop out, I make eye contact with the man in front of me.
Trey?
It almost feels like the world around me fades to black as my eyes zero in on Trey. My muscles seize on me, my heart sputters in my chest as he takes a step forward, agony painted across his face.
I don’t know if I can do this, if I can see him again. Not yet.
“Oh my God, you scared me.” I step back and try to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry.” His voice sounds tattered, broken, which only adds to the anxiety rolling through me.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” My fingers tremble over my lips in disbelief.
He steps forward, running his hand over his hair. I take a moment to observe him. Trey doesn’t seem to be doing well. His hair is unruly, unlike his usually well-kept hairdo, he’s wearing sweats and a long-sleeved T-shirt that looks rumpled, and there are dark circles under his eyes, eyes that once were bright but now seem dull.
Did he take the breakup hard? I’m kind of surprised, given I haven’t heard from him besides his one text. His intention to switch our entire life around to accommodate his needs rather than our needs still makes me angry. Honestly, I’m surprised to see him here.
“Amelia, can we talk for a moment?”
Caught off guard, not really knowing what to do, I nod while a little voice in the back of my head is sending me warning signals. I can’t decipher them. I walk to my porch and take a seat on the wicker love seat. Trey takes a seat next to me, his shoulders slumping. The morning air is crisp, making my nose run and my bones quiver. I fold my hands together and push them between my knees to keep them warm.
“Can you at least look at me for a second?” he asks, almost sounding desperate. I didn’t realize I wasn’t. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to see the hurt in his eyes. I want to believe in my heart and mind that Trey wasn’t affected by our breakup, that I was the only one hurt. But when I see him, when I make eye contact, I know that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
He presses his hand on my knee, sending some warmth up my leg. With his head down, he says, “I’m such a fucking fool. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He’s shaking his head now, only to look me in the eyes. “I was an idiot thinking I could take you away from the future we planned. I was insensitive when it came to your father, and I got caught up in my own career trajectory rather than considering my very own quality of life. Our life.”
I don’t want to hear this. I don’t want him saying these words to me, these words of regret, of sorrow. Breaking up with Trey was so much easier when I knew he had a different plan in life, but now that he’s re-evaluating, it’s too much to handle. It’s confusing me . . .
“I love you, Amelia, and I was an idiot to let you go.” He takes my hands in his. “I will do anything to get you back, because I’m miserable without you. Without hearing your voice before I go to bed, without receiving your loving text messages throughout the day, without seeing that beautiful face pop up on my phone. I can’t fucking stand it, being away from you, knowing I completely fucked up. You’re the best thing to happen to me, and I’d be an idiot to throw that away for a job opportunity.”
Tears well in my eyes as a knot twists and turns in the pit of my stomach. There is so much regret in his face, in his body posture, in the way he’s pleading.
I don’t know what to say. But I know I need to speak some of my anger within me. Everything he said is only about him. He’s miserable. He wants to hear my voice. He wants my text messages. He wants to see my face. He can’t stand being away from me. I’m the best thing for him.
“Trey, I left last Friday. I haven’t heard from you except for a few texts. You could have driven up on the weekend. Or did you go straight back into work for another ten hours without giving me a thought?”
He looks sheepish. Did he really go back to work as if nothing had happened between us?
“Trey?”
“I had to go back in, because there was—”
“No. Stop. Please stop. You made promises to me that you broke. Nothing’s changed.” But at the mention of promises, I think about another man who did the same thing.
Aaron.
His promises, his apology, his reasoning. Our connection, last night, the future he wants . . . the future I agreed to. With him.
My heartbeat is rapidly speeding to an abnormal pace, a pace that’s making my breathing start to become labored.
“Hey, are you okay?” Trey asks, one of his hands going to my face. I can’t seem to focus on him, my eyes feeling wild, erratic. “Amelia, talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I don’t . . . I don’t want this—”