Page 88 of Lily In The Valley
I leaned back in the kitchen chair and stared at the ceiling. “I pulled up on her.”
Xavier paused mid-chew. “Who? Kelly?”
I nodded. “At our taco spot. Nessa got me trapped with unlimited babysitting.”
“That’s that business degree,” he said, laughing at the end. “What’d y’all talk about?”
I ran my hand down my face. “We had a truce. Talked. Laughed. Apologized. She got the puppy I got for her. Namedhim some shit like Karter.” I paused, thinking back to the pictures she’d shown me of her and the dog. “You know your girl told her about Tasha.”
He whistled low. “Damn.”
“She told me she was sorry. When she got in her car, I wanted to stop her. Wanted to tell her let’s forget all the bullshit and pick up where we left off in Arizona,” I said, pressing my thumb to the edge of my mug. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”
“How she doing? She look alright?”
“Always beautiful. A little sad, but who wouldn’t be in her situation.”
Xavier didn’t speak right away. He chewed the kolache in his hand slowly, nodding as my words settled on the kitchen counter. “You still love her,” he finally said, his mouth full. He set his coffee down and slid the box my way. “Eat man. Can’t nobody deal with heartbreak on an empty stomach.”
I sipped my coffee. It tasted like every morning I wished I woke up next to her instead of wondering where she went. I recounted the events to Xavier. But I didn’t tell him how it felt to hold her again. How when I touched her cheek, pulled her close to my chest, it felt like I was home again.
Xavier wiped his hands on a napkin. “So what now?”
“I don’t know.”
“You like Tasha?”
“She’s solid. Kind. She doesn’t ask for too much.”
“But?”
“She doesn’t make mefeel.”
He didn’t speak right away. Just watched me.
“I keep trying to convince myself that’s a good thing,” I said. “That maybe it’s better to be safe than shaken.”
“But safe don’t sound like love, my boy.”
I ran a hand through my curls. “What if I’m the reason it never worked with Kelly?”
“Youarepart of the reason,” he said bluntly. “So is she.”
I looked at him, annoyed.
He shrugged. “You want the truth or a hug?”
“Both,” I muttered.
He laughed then he sobered.
“You loved her like she was your second chance. She loved you like you were her escape. Neither of y’all figured out how to love each other for the people you were becoming.”
That sat heavy.
“You think it’s too late?”
He finished his kolache, wiped the corner of his mouth, and leaned back in his chair.
