Page 108 of Until We Meet Again

I spent three days cooped up in my bedroom, barely leaving the house, replaying everything that had transpired between Zane and me. Jen remained by my side, patiently listening and helping me through my thoughts, even when I repeated myself. Harry offered me hugs for as long as I wanted them. He never pulled away—not until I was ready. While Tobias came over a couple of times with his own form of distraction, he offered me his services, which included orgasms to help alleviate any pent-up tension I might have—an offer I politely declined. Instead, we watched movies together.

Yesterday, I had an interview that went better than I ever imagined or hoped for, and I was offered the position on the spot. I'd been researching the company for a while, ever since I was offered the interview, hoping to secure the opportunity, and thankfully, it paid off. Now, I'm one of two editorial interns at Winged Wonders Publishing House, and I'm so damn excited to start.

I've told everyone I know.

Well, almost everyone.

I need to have a conversation with Zane. He's been surprisingly patient with me, but I needed clarity and to be sure about what I wanted to say to him. Time hasn't changed the way I feel. No matter how broken he thinks he is, I love every single piece of him.

As soon as I got home from the Cordova Lounge, I placed the gift box Zane had given me in the corner of my room. I wasn't ready to open it. But my curiosity has been gnawing at me over the last few days. I can’t resist any longer. My fingers tremble as I reach for the small black velvet box. With bated breath, I lift the lid and gasp at the sight of the diamond pear halo earrings that sparkle like a million stars in the sky.

Oh my god. They're beautiful.

I notice a little slip of paper folded four times inside the box's lid.

I can't help but smile as I quickly grab my phone from my back pocket and send him a message without a second thought. I haven't spoken to him since leaving his car six days ago.

T: Will you be at home tonight? I need to drop something off for you.

My phone vibrates after the longest twenty minutes of my life.

Z: I'm not going anywhere. P.S. Please tell me you're bringing me you.

I don't reply and immediately feel guilty about it, but I know I need to do this my way.

Chapter 50

Zane

It's been six days of quiet.

I left her for six long weeks, so I guess it's only fair that I receive this poetic justice. However, my patience is wearing thin, and I'm finding it hard to endure this silence.

I've been trying to keep myself busy, hitting the gym more often and reading books I've wanted to open for a while. I'm also spending a lot more time fisting my cock to memories of Tessa. Every time she enters my head, I'm rock fucking solid as flashbacks of her flood my mind, but nothing I do satisfies this ache inside.

I sit on the edge of my bed, cracking my neck, and attempting to loosen up and release any tension before hitting the shower. My phone buzzes on the dresser, but I ignore it for now.

Ever since I returned home to Chicago, things have been different with my family. My mom has been checking in on me more than ever, and my brother has been relentless. Every day, he's either calling me or sending a message to the groupchat—yeah, we now have one of those—to ask if I've managed to convince Tessa to give me another shot. Part of me regrets opening up to them. Now, everyone seems to be all about my feelings, and I can't even get a moment of peace without wanting to launch my phone at a wall.

I can deal with once a week check-ins, but once a day? Jesus, fuck, I feel like my head is going to explode soon.

As soon as I step out of the shower, I grab my phone. Tessa’s name flashes up on the screen, and my heart drops when I read her message, cursing myself for being an ignorant asshole—almost hearing my sister’s voice in my head telling me it’s karma.

I think about Kimberley often. The pain of losing her is something I've accepted will always be there, but I now try to focus on the happy memories we shared during the thirty-two years we were lucky enough to spend together. I try to remember those moments—the laughter, the joy, and the love we shared—rather than only thinking about the weeks leading up to her death. Those were, without a doubt, the darkest days of my life, but the scars they left are slowly healing.

T: Will you be at home tonight? I need to drop something off for you.

Tonight.

That sounds like she won't be staying. I can't shake the feeling that this could be the last time I see her. I know my actions have led to this, but the possibility of losing her forever is a reality that I'm not ready to face. Have I really messed things up so badly that she can't find a way to forgive me? She doesn't trust me enough to give me a chance to love her because I shattered that trust when I chose my selfish bullshit over her. I'll never wake up with her in my arms again, or feel her warmth as soon as I openmy eyes. Instead, I'll fall asleep each night with only the memory of her voice being the last thing I hear before I close my eyes.

Unwanted thoughts dominate my mind, yet a flicker of hope remains that the one who got away is coming home to me.

Z: I'm not going anywhere. P.S. Please tell me you're bringing me you.

Three dots appear, disappear, and eventually stop altogether.

This fucking girl.

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