Page 23 of Memories By the Shore
“Maybe.” I cross my leg over the other.
“Don’t you want to move on?”
Suddenly, my phone vibrates.Perfect timing.“I have to get this.”
Her eyes grow wide. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
Raising the phone to my ear, I hold a finger up to her. “Gail will see you out,” I say, waving at my assistant again.
“Jasper,” she warns, her voice low with frustration.
I do want to see her again. She can’t leave town yet. Not until I get my closure.
“Leave your number with Gail, and I’ll call you.”
“Fine.” She lowers her eyes, flexing her posture. “If you don’t, I’ll be back.”
“Mayor Collins,” I answer the call, then quickly hit the mute button. “Considering how well that worked for me last time, I doubt it.”I know she will, and I hope she does.
Avery’s mouth is pulled to the side, the outline of her plump red lips turns white. “Asshole.”
“Love you, too, wife,” I call out in a low voice as she stomps out of my office.
As soon as I’m alone, I hang up the phone. It was just a telemarketer, but oddly, this time, I’m grateful it was a call like that.
I jog around my desk to shut the doors, then scan the hallway for any sign of her. She’s gone. There are so many different emotions colliding into one another inside me. I’ve always hoped I’d see Avery again, but I also knew she’d probably have moved on. I haven’t pursued a divorce, and I’m not sure why.Maybe because the thought of hope is too much to lose? Or maybe not having some type of connection to her feelsincomprehensible.
I spend an unclear amount of time staring at my computer screen, contemplating life if I am to lose her again.
Gail pops her head in. “Was that Avery? LiketheAvery?”
I nod.
She scrunches her nose. “What’s she doing here?”
Letting out an audible sigh, I shrug my shoulders.
“You don’t know what she wants?”
“I do.”
Silence.
She rests a hand on my wooded desk, cocking a hip. “But you’re not going to tell me, are you?”
I glance over with a side-eye. “Nope.”
“Well, you’re no fun.” She huffs.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Maybe you should invite her to the Coconut Grove Days?”
“I don’t think she’s in town for pleasure,” I mumble under my breath.
“It’s worth a try,” she replies in typical Gail fashion—kind, sweet and optimistic.
I shrug my shoulders.
