Page 54 of Ruined Vows
I won’t need to impress anyone.
I will be the person to make the children and the dogs know what it’s like to be chosen.
Today, my work helped something be seen. And if I lay a solid foundation, I can support numerous charities. This way, my world will change the world one small step at a time.
I can’t believe his childhood was similar to mine. He shared his sadness with me. He’ll never act like a victim or complain; his past speaks for itself. But I know he has scars like me.
And I saw the want in his eyes.
I drive home, remembering the weight of Vukan’s words, and his soft voice that makes the hair on my neck rise. Damnit, I miss him.
But right now?
I’m going to recuperate from my long day. And that means I need to stop obsessing over the mysterious Serb in my life.
Later,I’m sipping wine when my phone pings. My heart flutters. Why does it happen every time I receive a text message?
And why do I hope it’s him?
Did it go well? Raise a lot of money? Adopt a stray?
I stare at the screen for longer than I should.
The message is simple. Nice. Teasing. And so Vukan.
But I see it for what it is, and I know he’s checking on me.
Again.
Not because he has to. Because hewantsto, because he has a million things to do, but he’s made me his priority.
And that’s more dangerous than any weapon he’s ever held.
I type back, fast and flippant:
Raised double the goal. Didn’t cry once. Didn’t adopt, but almost ran off with an older dog named Meatball.
A beat later:
Thanks for showing up.
I don’t send anything else. I can’t overthink it. I can’t give him too much.
But I hold my breath, hoping he’ll text again. I can’t explain the lump in my throat or the fact that my heart’s still sore in places I thought were scarred over and numb.
A minute passes, and I gulp my wine, disappointed that he didn’t text again. And then, he replies a minute later.
Should’ve brought Meatball home. I hear labs are good with children.
Maybe it’s just a line. He’s always surprising me. And he always mans up to the occasion.
But somehow… I wonder what it would be like having children with him. Do I want them? Sure.
And for the first time in my life, I’m thinking about the possibility of a future with someone. And it scares the shit out of me.
So I order sushi, which arrives an hour later in a sleek black box with a ribbon, as if it’s a gift, but it tastes like nothing. I push a piece around my plate for twenty minutes.
I take a few bites and throw the rest of the food in the fridge like I’m actually going to revisit it tomorrow. But I know I won’t.
