I was still always looking for him, the one who would be my forever. My reason, like Wyatt and Breigh had found with each other.
Why was that so hard for me to find? How did some people just find their person but yet others didn’t?
I sat staring out the window, looking at the way the sun was hitting the cars in the street glaring off our table.
“Why are you so smiley today?” I asked Breigh.
“No reason.”
“Good God, spare me the details. Can’t you share some of your happiness? I mean crap, you’ve been given this perfect little life, and everything is going right.”
“Not entirely… but yes, I realize how lucky I am.”
“So why has that smile not left your face?”
“I actually have a proposition. Wyatt has a…”
Before the words left her mouth, I knew what she was going to say. Damn her.
“No. Not just no, but HELL no!” I raised my voice in frustration. I turned around to see how many people turned to look at me.
“Won’t you just hear me out?”
I tapped my finger on the table. Breigh wasn't one who handled being ignored well. I knew that firsthand.
“Look, I know you don't want to be set up… I get that. But this guy is really nice and I’ve already met him a few times. He would be perfect for you.”
“WHAT? Do you think I am so desperate that I need a matchmaker?”
“No… not at all. I just want you to find…”
“Find what exactly?”
“The reason.”
I took a few sips of my coffee and we sat there in complete silence looking at each other. Neither of us smiled or showed any emotion. It mimicked a game of stare. This wasn’t the first time we played this game, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.
I relented. Just like Breigh knew I would. She always won, partly due to my becoming bored.
“I make the call though. If I don't get a good vibe, if I don't like him, no matter how minute the reason might be: it’s done. And I will never hear of it again. You got it?”
“I got it.”
She smiled from ear to ear with a little clap. Pathetic.
Although I wanted to fight it, I did fight it; I could feel my cheeks turning up.
It was a great feeling to think of the very possibility though, even if it turned into nothing.
It wouldn't hurt, right?
3
EMMA
My phone rang and startled me as I was pouring a glass of red wine with my dinner. Too many nights my dinner was a prepared dinner from the grocery store, or a cheese plate. The last thing I felt like doing when I got home was cook. Today would have been one of those days. A long one, but a fruitful one.
At age thirty-three, some nights I felt a lot older than I actually was.
I had been thinking about Breigh asking about the possible double date, and I had a part of me that was starting to see the fun in it. It was a risk, and maybe it would be worth it. I sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger.
I was happy right now, and realized things came in good time. Right? That was what I was telling myself anyway. One thing I was sure about was I couldn't waste any more of my time worrying about it.
My phone rang and I hadn’t yet turned the volume down, scaring me. “Hello,” I answered my phone without looking at the caller ID.
“Emma.”
I had just taken a big sip of my cabernet sauvignon wine and froze like a deer in headlights. I held the wine in my mouth like I had forgotten how to swallow.
“I haven't heard from you in a while,” I responded.
“Yeah, I’ve been busy…”
I bet he had. That was his normal MO, busy. Who wasn’t? Was it that hard to pick up the phone?
Here I go. Not my concern, no reason to get myself worked up in a tiff. I don’t care. I don’t care. As if repeating to myself would make it a true statement.
“Anyway, I saw you last night and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you.”
“Where?”
“At the concert. You were in front of me with a date getting beers.”
“Why didn’t you come and say hello?” I smarted off. I mean we were at the very least friends. We had been sleeping together off and on for as long as Breigh and Wyatt had known each other. What was that four years now? We had all met each other the same night, but Breigh had gotten the guy who wanted to settle down, Cash… not so much.
“I thought better of it.”
“Hmmm.” I wasn't going to question it. The answer was probably not something I wanted to hear anyway.
“I won’t keep you, but I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”
His comment took me completely off guard. Where was this coming from? Could he sense I might be finally accepting my life and finding happiness?
I didn’t respond because I couldn’t. I didn't know how to say what I needed to say, and I didn't know how to hold back what I wanted to say.
“Have you ever done things you wished so badly you could take back? That you maybe could make right if you had a chance?”
“Who hasn’t?” I muttered, taking another sip of my wine. I fought the urge to chug it.
What was it about him that made me so weak?
“I have just been thinking of the regrets I have for the way I had treated you. I wish I could take them all back.” He paused. “Well, anyway, I hope you’re doing good.”
“You as well.” Then I said what I knew I shouldn’t. “When you are back in town, give me a call, and maybe we can get together.” I hated myself as soon as I said it.
“You can count on that, Emma. Take care.”
“Bye.” I hung up my phone and
