Page 15 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
Seeing her again has awakened something in me. Not many men get the chance to try again but she’s back in my life again and I have a chance to set the record straight. She’s angry with me, and I need to fix it but I don’t know what to do.
Vivian calls me again, but I ignore it and drive to Megan’s place of work because it makes sense to. She needs to know why I left the way I did.
I lean against a wall and pretend to read a newspaper. It’s a tactic which has worked and one which I’ve used successfully ever since the shooting incident catapulted me to unwanted fame. Like an ill wind, its brought me unwanted attention; students and other professors at the campus still stop to talk to me about it. When I go out people still recognize me even though the shooting is old news now. I am no longer invisible and I long for anonymity again.
I feel like a stalker standing outside Megan’s place of work. Every so often I lower the newspaper, keeping an eye on the revolving doors of the building whenever someone walks out. I catch the eye of a group of women who gawk at me as they walk by, smiling at me. There’s a flicker of recognition in their eager eyes. I push off the wall and walk away, not wanting to indulge in conversation.
That’s when I catch sight of Megan in the distance, walking away with a man by her side. I rush after her, a hard knot forming in my gut as my gaze fixes on the guy she’s with. “Megan?”
She turns around. “Lance?” I like the way she has her hair now. It used to be straight and silky before, and now it has a gentle wave in it. The schoolgirl is gone, and in its place is a grown-up beauty, looking as if she means business in her smart dark pantsuit.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you both,” I say, sensing the tall, gangly guy’s displeasure at my interruption.
“I’ll see you back at the office,” she tells him and he scowls as he walks away. “Are you stalking me?”
“I don’t stalk.”
“Then how do you know where I work?” Her voice is hard and unwelcoming.
“You told me where you worked.”
She opens her mouth and groans. “Me and my big mouth.”
I smile and am aware that I have less than a few seconds to get her attention. “I’m sorry for showing up like this but I had to see you.”
“Why?”
“To explain.”
“Explain what?”
“Why I left the way I did.”
“That’s not important. Not now.” Her lips are set in a line, and her unsmiling face tells me this is going to be harder than I thought. I’m not one to give up easily.
“I want to.”
“I don’twantyou to explain.” Angry eyes glare back at me. She has the right to be mad at me, to hate me even. The Megan I remember was fragile, and vulnerable, and defiant all at once. She was a chameleon. Smart, strong, yet like a wilting flower. I was drawn to her, and I couldn’t help myself. She was wise beyond her years, maybe being the oldest child in a dysfunctional family enabled that in her. But I’m not used to this Megan, the one who seems bitter and unwilling to hear me out.
“That may be but you’re mad at me and you need to listen.” I reach out for her arm, desperate to quell her rage, hating that she feels this way about me. She glares at me in disbelief.
“Ineedto listen? We’re not in the classroom anymore, Mr. Turner.”
“Lance,” I say, remembering the classroom all over again.
“Lance?” She eyeballs me. “Just Lance?”
I clear my throat, preparing myself for a battle I don’t want. I’m so happy to see her again, and she isn’t. “I didn’t mean to sound condescending. You’re angry, justifiably so, and I need … Iwant… to tell you something.”
“I’m over it now. Let it go.”
“You don’t look like you’re over it.” I refuse to give in. “You hate the sight of me. I don’t want this bitterness between us.”
“There is no ‘us’. Why does it matter to you so much?”
“It would give me closure.”
“Youwant closure?” she snorts, pinning me with a stern look. “This must be a joke. I’m not going to turn up on your doorstep at midnight in the pouring rain again, in case you’re worried.”
