Page 6 of Fourteen Years

“I wish we could do that.” she responded, hugging me back.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a downer this year.” I whispered, suddenly.

“Mon,” began Becks. “I’m not just here for the sunshine days. I’m here for everything.”

“I know. I just feel like I’ve only been the storm the last year and a half.”

“With good reason,” she scolded. “You lost your husband, Monica. You won’t talk to anyone about it. I can text Lucas back and we can chat longer-”

“No.” I said slightly panicked. “I’m okay. I just felt like I needed to say thank you.”

“You don’t.” She looked at me skeptically. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I replied, watching her turn and walk out of the diner. I sighed, glancing down at my phone to see the time. It was summer so I was off work and had the whole day ahead of me.

Being a receptionist for the local school had its perks. I basically had half of June and all of July, off work. Lacey was with her friends at the pool, while Lexi and Nat were at a volleyball summer camp for the day.

My eyebrows lowered at the text coming through my phone. Trevor and I talked regularly but it was rare to hear from him two days in a row. Even if I’d been the one to message him last night. Ever since Paul had passed away, he’d been checking in more frequently. He used the guise of Lacey to do so, but I knew he was worried about me and Lexi as well.

Tossing my phone in my tote, my mind started racing on what could be happening with my ex-husband. I wondered if he'd finally started seeing someone. He had only briefly dated people since we’d divorced, after he got his life together. I was so proud of him for being clean and holding down his job as a fireman. He had a new zest for life that I hadn’t seen since high school, when I’d met him. My heart grew warm in my chest. He had grown into a good-looking man and was back to being healthy. He actually could be in one of those fireman calendars for fundraisers. I snorted to myself thinking about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if a new woman in his life was what he was about to tell me about.

Chapter 04

“Fuck!” I muttered, grabbing a towel to wipe the toothpaste from the mirror. Glancing into my bedroom I saw I had ten minutes before Monica had said she’d be here. I didn’t know why I felt so nervous. We saw each other regularly.

Just knowing I was about to start the process of trying to win her back was putting my stomach in knots. I backed up, looking at myself in the mirror. I had packed my six-foot-three frame with muscles since becoming a firefighter. I had also covered myself with tattoos and gotten a couple piercings in my moments of stupidity, grateful they still looked good.

The eyebrow piercing looked so natural it would be weird to remove it at this point. The other piercing wasn’t something just anyone could see.

I'd left my blonde hair shaggy on top, having never quite grown out of the skater-boy haircut from high school and my younger years.

“Jeans and a shirt should be fine.” I said to myself. “Dude. Pull yourself together. It's just a conversation.”

Walking out of my bathroom, and through my bedroom, I entered the main living area of my apartment.

“Coffee,” I said to myself, going into the kitchen to prepare a pot. Monica had been addicted to the stuff in high school and never looked back. I’d never quite developed the taste, preferring my soda and energy drinks.

“Just going to talk about how she’s doing today, it's not like you're going to confess your undying love for her.” I groaned at the thought, bending to set my head in my hands, with my elbows on the beat up countertop of the small kitchen. I was nervous as hell. There was no denying it. I wanted to offer her an ear to listen or a shoulder to cry on. I knew she was missing Paul. I knew she was struggling to do everything alone. Monica had never been the type to ask for help from anyone. It was something we’d fought over and had made me feel illogically useless in our young relationship.

Not only did I have shitty role models growing up, but I’d suddenly had the stress of a wife and baby. All the expectations had just crowded around me and I hadn’t been enough or felt like enough. I’d convinced myself that she could do better and that Lacey needed someone different in their lives. I was just a constant disappointment.

Throwing caution to the wind was the theme of the day. I was still in love with my ex-wife. I had been too late getting my shit together back then, but I had it together now.

Standing, I grabbed my water bottle, chugging some down. I just wanted to make the moves slight. Paul wouldn’t have wanted her to not move on. He’d told me as much when he asked me to step back in. He’d known Monica had a stubborn streak a mile long.

Monica was loyal to a fault. She was likely to lock herself in her house and never move on. She was only thirty-eight. She had so much life ahead of her. Paul didn't want her to play the widow for the rest of her life.

I didn’t ask for this second chance. I never wanted it to happen this way. Paul was one of my best friends. I gripped the counter again, knuckles whitening. I’d waited a year and a half. I could test the waters. If she balked or it went too horribly, I could wait longer. I’d been waiting so long already.

My head jerked up at the knock on my front door and I hurried towards it, tripping over my own feet and stumbling a little to answer it.

“God, you’re a dumbass,” I muttered to myself. I stared through the peephole of the old, brown, apartment door. Pretty sure this place hadn’t been renovated since the nineteen-nineties.

There she was. Brunette hair thrown up on top of her head, nose scrunched under her glasses as she checked her phone. I looked her over, knowing she couldn’t see me. Leggings, a baggy t-shirt, and sneakers completed her usual summer uniform. She was fucking gorgeous. I watched her sigh and look up again, moving to knock a second time.

Gripping the door handle, I swung it open, meeting her wide eyes, hand raised to knock, and grinned.

“Hey, Mon. You look good.” I stepped out, hugging her briefly.

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