Page 15 of Pining for Pierce

I have to smile, wondering if my brother has ever shared a conversation like this with me before. I can’t recall one, and I take a breath before I say, “I’m really pleased for you.”

“Thanks,” he says. “But don’t tell Mom and Dad, will you?”

“Why not?”

“Because Mom won’t give me a moment’s peace once she knows. She’ll want us to come visit, and then she’ll start talking about weddings and grandchildren, and heaven knows what else… and although I’m not ruling out any of that, I don’t want Louise to feel like she’s being railroaded.”

Wow… I hadn’t expected him to say that, and I nod my head, even though he can’t see me. “I won’t say a word.”

“How’s everything going at home?” he asks, making it sound like he’s desperate to change the subject. And I let him.

“Everything’s fine.” That’s not strictly true, but I’m not in the mood for talking about the only thing that’s really troubling me. Pierce is Ben’s best friend, so it feels too personal to both of us… and far too painful for me.

“You’re coping okay without Mom and Dad?” he says, after our silence has stretched a little.

“Of course. I’ve just been rearranging my closet.”

“You really know how to live, don’t you?”

A lump forms in my throat, as I realize the truth behind his words… that while he’s met someone special, and Pierce is dating every female he comes across – except me, of course – and my parents are touring Europe, I’m stuck here by myself.

I daren’t say any of that, though, and before he can question me any further about my private life, I hear a muffled female voice in the background.

“Is that Louise?” I ask.

“Yeah. She’s just reminding me we need to leave in a minute. We’re meeting up with some friends for dinner.”

That sounds like a really nice way to spend an evening… a lot nicer than anything I’ve got planned, and I struggle with that lump in my throat as we say goodbye to each other.

That niggling headache has become something a lot more painful now, and rather than sit and wallow, I head for thebathroom, going to the cabinet, and letting out a groan when I check the box of Advil to find it’s empty.

“Damn,” I mutter under my breath.

I’d like to say I’ll brave my way through it, but the pain is getting worse by the second, and I know I’m better off going to the drugstore now, while I can still drive.

It doesn’t take me long to slip on some shoes and go downstairs, grab my purse and keys and head out the door. The drive into town only takes a few minutes, and I park right outside the drugstore, climbing out and turning away from the evening sunshine, letting out a gasp as I see Pierce and a beautiful brunette going into the Thai restaurant across the street.

He’s wearing jeans, a white button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and has his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. The woman, who I seem to remember was called Monica, is dressed in wide-legged black pants and a fitted white blouse, her dark hair hanging in loose curls around her shoulders… and while I hate to admit it, she looks lovely.

I turn away, my head pounding, tears welling in my eyes.

This is so unfair.

I’ve always known about Pierce’s dates. He usually tells me about them, either before or after they happen. But the thing is, I’ve never actually witnessed one in the flesh… until now.

My headache hasn’t been helped by that, and I trudge into the drugstore, asking for a pack of Advil and paying for it, before I leave again, my eyes naturally drawn to the Thai restaurant, where I see Pierce and Monica, sitting at a table by the window, smiling at each other, and talking avidly, like nothing else exists… certainly not me, anyway.

As the image before me blurs, I get back in my car and give myself a moment before I start the drive home.

Fortunately, it’s a road well traveled, and hardly any distance. Once there, I go inside and take some painkillers, wandering into the living room to sit down.

It hurt seeing Pierce like that. I won’t deny it. Witnessing the reality of him dating another woman is very different from hearing about it. It’s more real… and more painful. But I guess it was maybe the wake-up call I needed. After all, telling myself I’m not what he wants is one thing, but seeing that realization played out before me is something else.

And that means I’ve got a choice. I can either sit here and wallow in self pity… or I can stop dreaming about something that will never be, and start living my life.

My Monday morning has been mercifully quiet. In fact, it’s been unusually quiet. Mondays are often busy, but not today, and I’ve taken advantage of that, and tidied the reception area. That ought to please Doctor Singleton, as he’s always really picky about how clean the place is.

I spent yesterday cleaning, too… only at home, not at work. That was to keep myself from thinking about Pierce, because even though I decided wallowing was a lot less appealing than living, it’s not that easy to put plans into actions when he’s all I’ve thought about since boys even became a ‘thing’ for me.

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