Page 139 of Love Is an Art
“Don’t tell me. Tell her. What are you doing on the phone with me? Go fix whatever you messed up. Don’t lose her. She’s great for you.”
“You’re right. I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up.
I have to do better.
I’ve been holding back. I’ve been afraid to say how much I care about her. That was my fear talking. My fear of getting hurt again.
I sit at the table and pull over another piece of paper. Simple is best.
I write,I love you.
I love her. I lean back, my body hitting the chairback.I love Tessa.It’s true. I thought I loved Paisley, but it doesn’t compare to what I feel for Tessa. I run my hand through my hair again.
Brit whines.
“I’m trying,” I say.
Brit brings me her ball and lies down at my feet, the much-loved ball between her paws. She looks up at me with that beseeching expression. If only I could bottle that look and bring Tessa an “I love you” note.
Would it work? Probably not after yesterday. But how to tell her?
What she’d probably like is for me to catch a scammer and present him all tied up with a big bow tie on top, but that’s not exactly doable. And I don’t want to confess my feelings in front of some crappy guy.
She’s meeting Jurgen today.Alone?I don’t like the thought of her going alone. Wasn’t Officer Johnson supposed to be tailing them? Maybe I can meet her at her apartment and go with her as backup.
But I definitely messed up yesterday. I can’t just run over to her apartment without a plan.
All right. Head in the game.
What kind of proposal would Tessa like?
I could try to cook her dinner, but I’d probably poison both of us.
A PowerPoint.
A PowerPoint about us. Like she told that mom in the playground. Only from my point of view. When I first saw her trying to order a beer at that bar. When I wanted to spend more time with her. When I didn’t want the night to end.
I have to tell her what I feel.
Chapter forty-six
Tessa
Sofar,sogood.I was able to get the table in full view of the café’s security camera. My eyes are puffy, but that should help with the suffering artist depiction. I also feel like I’m operating in slow motion, with the majority of my brain cells arguing that I made a huge mistake last night.What if Zeke doesn’t take me back because I didn’t listen to him?Why did I have to say,I don’t want to do this anymore? And most importantly,what if Zeke doesn’t fundamentally know that I would never cheat on someone and we really are over?
It’s the same café downtown where we met before. The place is not overly crowded, and Jurgen seems pleased withRegret. He retapes the bubble wrap around it.
I don’t like handingRegretover. I’m proud of my painting. And it’s part of my relationship with Zeke, even if it’s what I painted when I regretted that I lied to him. Isn’t it a bad omen to give it to Jurgen?
Jurgen hands me an envelope. I open it up and pull out a check. The check is for two thousand more than the sale price.
The scam is on.
I look up at him. “This check is for four thousand.”
“It is?” He scans the check that I’ve pulled out of the envelope. “Wow. That’s a lot more. Let me call him.”
“I have free international calls,” I say. “Do you want to use my phone?” Then we could trace who he calls.
