Page 115 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“Eyes don't smile.” I start the engine and drive away slowly, the exchange between me and Megan fresh and hurtful in my mind.
Chapter 42
MEGAN
Chris and I had a date last night. Just the two of us. I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need to jump into bed with a guy just because he was good looking.
And I didn't.
We had dinner in a French bistro and talked about things I have no interest in.
I smiled and laughed and said appropriate things.
He thought I liked him, so much so that when we left the restaurant, he took my hand in his and when I pulled mine away he asked me what was wrong.
“Nothing,” I told him.
“I thought we were having a nice time. I thought we were getting on.”
He looked disappointed.
I was disappointed.
I'd just given up an evening of my life that I was never, ever getting back. My speech was ready; I told him I wasn't ready, that I didn't feel the same, that I was getting ready to move. But what I didn't tell him was that I was having second thoughts about my new job and about moving away. I've got a third interview at the smaller firm near Boston.
Chris was gracious and sweet, and wished me well. What I also didn't tell him was that I'm no longer a girl who needs to feel that she owes a man something just because he bought her dinner.
When I get home I start my packing again. My family are coming to help me move out. There are boxes everywhere, and on the coffee table a book:Applied Calculus and Mathematical Modeling.
It’s a book Lance left behind on one of the times he was here. A book that makes me remember the man I knew then, before I found out the truth of who he really is.
I lean back against the wall and slide down it, sitting with my arms hugging my knees, feeling lost, and forlorn, and abandoned.
And unlucky in love.
~~
It has to be done. I walk into the quaint looking building which houses Lance's office and look around for cubbyholes. Somewhere I can leave his book.
But I don't find anything.
And a part of me wants to look into those eyes for one last time.
I make my way down the wood-panelled hallways, until I find his office, and all the while I'm preparing myself physically and mentally, to be cool and calm and be able to walk away for the last time.
Except when I get to his office, the door is open, but he's not there.
I exhale, my shoulders dropping, the tension in my neck loosening.
He's not here.
This makes it easier.
But a part of me is sad, because I'm prepared for a final goodbye and he's not letting me have it.
“He'll be back soon.” I jump at the sound of a soft voice. A familiar voice. I turn around.
“Oh ... hi.” It’s Lesley, Lance’s good friend. I can feel her looking at me, through me, seeing everything.
