Page 38 of A Moment for Us
The fire that lingers in her eyes dims, and instead of her brutal honesty, I see empathy. “Oh, honey, are you okay with ending things?”
“I don’t think so.”
She sighs. “You need Jesus.”
“You need to fix me.”
“How do I fix you?”
I shrug. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”
We both laugh. “I wish you had listened to me when I said it a month ago.”
Me too, but I thought I could handle it. She sits beside me, and I lean my head against her shoulder. “I’m a mess.”
“You got that right.”
“How did I fuck this up so bad?”
“You fell for Josh’s soul and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Other than it’s ruining my life.”
“That’s your choice, Delia. You don’t have to let what you feel dictate the future. You can decide right now that you’re not going to lie to yourself anymore.”
I want to believe that, but I’m not sure I can. “When I see him, all I think about is how good we feel together. It’s like this part of me can’t stop it. I want whatever I can get of him, and that’s so damn stupid.”
Ronyelle leans forward. “And what about you? What will be left of you if you keep lying to yourself about what you really want?”
A tear falls down my cheek. “I don’t know, and that’s what worries me.”
Chapter 11
Delia
They say time heals all wounds. They . . . are fucking liars.
I got a text from Josh this morning saying he missed me and wants to stop by. That was it. Two weeks of radio silence and . . . he misses me. What does that even mean? Does he miss the sex? My smile? My glowing personality? And why come by? Why keep torturing ourselves like this?
Because I miss him, and I am so damn tired of it. Yesterday was so bad that I had to put my phone in Ronyelle’s office to keep from texting him. At night, I dream of him. During the day, I think of him. The freaking man is taking up my brain while I’m trying to eradicate him. I have ached. Stupid, grumpy bastard he is.
He may miss me, but he doesn’t feel the same way I do. Which, hello, my brain already knew, but my dumb heart didn’t listen. Well, hope is dead and I am tired of waiting for a miracle.
Each mile to his RV, I get more worked up. I mean, who does this? Stupid men who have commitment issues, that’s who. I’m not going to allow this to happen. I need to end this right here and now. We are friends and that’s all this will ever be going forward. The friendship we had before didn’t have texts about missing each other.
I knock on the door to the RV. “Delia . . .” he says, his eyes wide. Josh steps down, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”
“You wanted me to stop by and miss me?”
“You got my text.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you miss?”
His gaze moves to the window of the RV. “What does that mean?”
“I’m asking what you miss. I’m asking why you would text me that after I told you how I felt.”
Josh sighs. “I missed you. I wanted you to know that.”
