I have thousands of things to tell her.
How I miss her, how I’m constantly thinking about her, how I jerk off morning and night with her on my mind.
I’m a thirteen-year-old discovering his dick for the first time when it comes to her. But I can’t tell her anything as long as she keeps sending me yellow faces blowing hearts.
Unlocking my phone, my heart almost stops when I see words on the screen. Actual words face me. It’s almost as long as an email and my eyes devour her text, searching for any underline and signification that this is a step forward.
Tessa: Hey Green-eyes. I miss you. Today Dr. Saman told me something I wanted to share. Wherever I will go, King will always be in my heart. And I feel that. I knew that. I might have forgotten it with all the things that happened with my family. I might have pulled back as an excuse not to move on, even if I found the perfect guy for me. So just know I’m not giving up yet. I’m working on my shit and in the meantime, I wouldn’t be against us texting more.
Knowing her, she wrote and deleted that text a couple of times before sending it. Glancing around, I see Peter is back on the floor and go to my office to reply. I wouldn’t be against us texting more either. I’ve been craving her words and her attention. Sitting on my chair, I Iet my thumbs tell her what she needs to hear.
Me: I’ve been here waiting for you to give me a sign.
Tessa: A kiss emoji a day isn’t enough of a sign for you?
Me: Not if it’s the only sign I receive. I knew it meant you were thinking of me, but I also knew you were keeping me at arm’s length.
Tessa: And thank you for not pushing for too much.
Me: Thank you for opening the door to communication again. So how have you been?
Tessa: I’ve been good. I’ve found a new coach, got a job in engineering again, getting my life back on track.
I should be happy, or at least, feel happy for her. It’s great news. But my heart sinks thinking that she’s making roots in Virginia. A new coach, a new career, that doesn’t seem like a good omen for her to join me in New York ever, but I can’t be selfish.
Me: That’s great. So proud of you.
I know I promised no bullshit but I can’t be an asshole either.
Tessa: Yeah it feels good. Mark and Quinn helped me a lot, pulled some ropes and made some phone calls. I’m getting back on track. I’ve spoken a lot with Andre too.
Me: That’s good.
I’m not touching this with a ten-foot pole. I don’t want to talk about her stepdad or her mother. I want to talk about her, what she’s doing and how she’s feeling.
Tessa: And you, how are you doing?
Me: Good. Therapy is fine. Learning a lot about grief and avoidance. Letting go of my guilt isn’t always easy, but I’m working on my obsessions.
Tessa: That’s good. I want you to be happy.
Me: And I want you to be happy too.
Tessa: I mostly am.
Me: Well let’s make you fully happy then. What are you missing?
I pray she’ll answer she needs me but I know better.
Tessa: It’s just not easy to reconcile having found someone like you and accept our timing was off.
Me: And it’s not easy texting with a hard dick. But again, we do what we can. I’ll be there Tessa. I’m not going anywhere.
I’m again facing my two doors. Denial and Truth. I don’t tell her that this conversation is killing every hope I have of us being together, I still open the truth door in front of me and step past the threshold.
Tessa and I are likely never going to happen.
We’ll be a distant relationship with a faltering connection.
Having hope isn’t going to help me move on.
Some love stories aren’t meant to be happily ever afters. Maybe she was meant to only mend me. Maybe she was meant to get me back on the saddle of love. Maybe she was meant for me but we aren’t meant to live a beautiful love story. Maybe…
Me: I have to go, Blue-hair. Text me whenever you want.
I cut the conversation short and put my phone away. Maybe I would have preferred a kiss emoji after all.
Chapter Thirty-Three
TESSA
“That’s too much for my brother, Tessa. You freaked him out.” Anna says looking over my shoulder. I arrived in New York a little more than two weeks ago and as she promised Mark, Anna’s been helping me settle down while keeping it a secret from her brother—and letting me know every day how she dislikes being secretive about it. We’re hanging out in my kitchen, standing around the little table I have there, commenting about the texts I send Oliver as if it was a live television event.
“No I didn’t, Anna. He’s just busy.”
“Show me,” Naomi steps in the conversation and takes the phone from my hand while handing me her baby.
The kid is always in someone's arms, never with his nanny but I don’t think it’s my place to say anything. So I take Aito and snuggle with him while Naomi goes through my messages with Oliver. I tried to keep those two girls at arm’s length, but it was quite impossible once they understood my reasons for not following Oliver right away. They all had freak-outs and as a boss lady, Anna was very supportive of me not wanting to have Oliver as my provider while I was getting my life together.
I told them everything. How at the beginning, I was really walking away from him. But the ten days following my decision, I felt worse than after King died. Okay maybe not worse but at least as depressed.
Quinn got worried.
He was a doting friend and after a few days of me not moving from
