Page 28 of Omega Artist
Paris?
I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t mean Paris, Texas. I’m left speechless by my own stupidity. She lives in France; I live in the U.S. When is this meetup gonna happen, if ever? And now, it makes a lot of sense; she goes radio silent at certain times of the day. Is she French or an American in Paris? And here I thought that we knew a lot about each other. I know nothing…
Once again, she beats me with another text.
Alie G: I know what you’re thinking, Tig. I said we’d meet soon and you think I lured you into something that’s not gonna happen.
Tig: Spot-on.
Despite wanting to inquire further because she’s clearly fluent in English, I don’t. This unexpected tidbit somehow knocked the wind out of me. I hate that I can’t control my reactions, especially in front of Chloe who’s pretending to be engrossed in the movie to give me some privacy.
Alie G: Chill out;) I’m stuck in Paris for a while longer. Wasn’t planned.
Tig: Mmm…
Alie G: Don’t be like that…
Damn, she just used Chloe’s words.
Alie G: My current location doesn’t mean we can’t communicate. I WANT to see you. SOON, just like I told you. Question is: Do YOU want to see ME?
Tig: Obvly…
Alie G: Nothing obvious about it.
Before I can stop myself, my fingers are eagerly typing an answer.
Tig: Are you kidding me?
I add a few angry emoticons.
Alie G: Should I call you later so you don’t keep your frustrations to yourself?
Call? We’ve never spoken on the phone before. Why? Why now? Why not?
I tilt my head to check on Chloe who’s gone from the room; I’m reassured as to her whereabouts when I hear the characteristic sound of her electric toothbrush. I agree to Alie’s proposal, intentionally neglecting to mention that I grumbled part of my aforementioned frustration and forbidding myself from acknowledging the positive vibes that lit up my heart when she suggested calling me.
I’m going to talk to her. For real. Shut up. It’s nothing.
My brain is at war with a heart that I thought was dead, and I haven’t even talked to her yet.
This is beyond ridiculous. What am I? Thirteen?
To calm my fucking brain that’s going a mile a minute, I explain the babysitting deal, and we decide to connect as soon as Chloe is sound asleep.
“I’m glad you met someone, Uncle Tig.” Kneeling next to Chloe’s twin bed, I kiss her forehead and sigh. I thought that I had been clear earlier. Honestly, now is not the time for this discussion. Her intentions are pure. She’s thrilled that I’m happier, and who could blame her?
“Sweet dreams.” I tuck her in before standing up to leave the cozy guest room that should officially be called hers. “Thanks for being awesome and supportive, Chloe. I really appreciate it.”
“I love you, Uncle Tig.”
“I love you, too.” I wave goodnight to her from the threshold. “See you in the morning.”
Ten minutes later, I’m in bed in my boxer briefs and sending my digits to Alie. My lungs seize, so I ditch my position leaning against the wall and slide under the covers to be more comfortable.
While I wait for her to return my text or call me, I log on my most used app as of late. I have several notifications that I open. One is from a woman that I’ve already met and have no intention of seeing again. I remind her of our initial agreement and tell her that yes, we did have a lot of fun, but I’m not after a repeat. I answer messages from two women who whetted my interest. We’ll see where those lead.
What is Alie doing?
