Page 70 of Smoke and Fire
“Of course not.”
Jakob’s unexpected appearance robbed my energy for my favorite game, so I let them order their drinks without guessing. The work gave my thoughts a chance to stop paddling upstream and go with the current.
While the ladies jabbered quietly amongst each other, words likeJessandnext bookandcan’t waitflew around several times. I couldn’t hear any deeper than that.
I poured Jakob a coffee with half cream and too much sugar and set it on the table next to him without making eye contact. He murmured a thank you, but I had already returned to the counter.
Out of the corner of my eye, I studied him. He stared at the table, outside, the other girls. Every now and then, a musing expression would cross his face. One of them asked him for the time. He leaned forward, replied, and they spoke for a few minutes.
My heart didn’t flip-flop.
My stomach didn’t flutter.
The visceral reactions toward Jakob had long since stopped. Until this moment, I hadn’t truly accepted it. Now, I had to.
I stared down the face of our failed relationship . . . with gratitude. We reallyhadn’tbeen great together. Fine, yes. Steady, of course. But we lacked luster. Confidence. Change. Our life could have been platonic and safe, but how much life would we have missed out on?
For the first time in six months, I was grateful toward Jakob. He’d done the hard thing that I didn’t.
He’d stopped what didn’t really make us happy.
I couldn’tforget he existed, even though that seemed like an easy path. All that time. All the layers of connection we’d forged. It couldn’t and shouldn’t be erased. Neither, however, should it be continued.
For the first time in months, Inner Me remained utterly silent. Maybe because I’d finally landed on the branch I’d been fluttering around for months.
Fifteen minutes later, all four ladies popped back to their feet. Katrina folded her computer and shoved it into her bag. They gathered up all the Jess books they’d laid out and headed toward the door in a flood of estrogen.
“See you later!” Katrina called, waving.
“Travel safe!”
As they disappeared, I turned and squared my shoulders to Jakob. My mind fluttered to Bastian and—No.
I yanked it back with a firm reprimand.He is not mine to think about that way,I sternly told myself.
For the first time in six months, I was readyfor this conversation with Jakob. Seeming to sense my stare, he glanced over. Then he leaned forward, arms on his legs. He had smooth lips that turned into a charming smile when he wanted them too.
“I won’t stay long, Dahlia. I just wanted to see you. I guess . . . I guess I felt I needed some closure. The whole thing happened faster than I thought it would. I don’t think I was ready to never see you again.”
His expression morphed into a maze of serious lines. He was as familiar to me as childhood. Jakob and Sione had been good friends for years. Guilt over mudding up their friendship after we broke up plagued me again. They were cordial, but they hadn't returned to what they'd had before.
“I know you don’t want me here,” Jakob said softly.
“It’s not that."
He lifted a dark brow. “Oh?”
“I just didn’t expect you.” I grabbed my drink, circled around the counter, and sat across from him, startled by how easy it felt to be casual. “I’m glad you came. You’re right. I think I needed some closure too. It's been six months but . . . after five years, that doesn’t seem like all that long.”
He nodded.
My gaze narrowed. "How are you? What’s going on back at home? How’s work?"
He hesitated, then leaned back against the seat. His strong legs sprawled in front of him—rugby legs. Sione and Jakob used to play with the other neighborhood kids. Sione had size, but Jakob was faster.
“It’s good.”
A brief summary of our shared life followed. Same routine at work. Same people. Same places. He still had the same apartment. In fact, everything sounded the same.
