Page 83 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“You said you got a call? Is—is Lucian okay? What’s happened?” Fear flooded through him, burning his blood. Was Lucian ill? Had there been an accident? His heart jumped, the beat erratic and out of control.
“No, of course he’s not okay,” she snapped, “he’s not been okay since you did a number on him. He’s even started to wear those ugly glasses of his again.”
“What?” Arlo’s heart twisted. Lucian had pulled the mask back on when it’d taken so much courage to put it aside. And it’s all because of you, a little voice sneered into his ear.
“Yeah, those fucking glasses, you heard me right. Jesus, Arlo, you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life. You thought you should part? Then let me tell you, you’ve got your wish because that was what the call was about. He’s booked a flight back to London. He’s paid Mr. DuPont his notice period, and he’s asked me to take him to the airport. Tomorrow, Arlo, he’s leaving tomorrow.”
The fire was burning up in her again, and she jumped up, stabbing her finger at him.
“I’ve lost the best florist I’ve ever had, who’s also become a damn good friend, and you’ve lost the best man who ever came along and lit up your dismal life. Or you have if you let it happen. Is that what you’re gonna do? Are you going to let the best thing that ever happened to you board a flight and leave your life forever?”
Bibi stood over him, shaking with fury.
Leaving… Arlo’s blood froze in his veins. Sickness rose from his gut, threatening to spew out. He swallowed hard. Leaving. But that’s what he wanted Lucian to do, because it was what was best for him. What he’d said, what he’d done, it had all been for Lucian’s sake.
“It’s for the best if he leaves,” he croaked. “I’m not good for him, I’m protecting him from the inevitable pain—”
“Bullshit, bullshit, and more bullshit. How many more times are you going to make me say that? Inevitable pain? You know how pompous that sounds? And nothing’s inevitable, or not unless you believe it is.
“You’re not protecting him,” she said, her voice softening as she once again sat down. “It’s yourself you’re protecting, Arlo, and you know what? I get it, I really do. You’ve been hurt bad in the past and you don’t want history to repeat itself. And don’t look at me like that — do you think you can keep anything secret here? Nobody’s been gossiping about you. Or not so much. The thing about the past is just that — it’s in the past. Lucian had nothing to do with what went before, but he could be a big part of your present and your future.” Sadness and disappointment glittered in her eyes, dousing her fiery rage.
“If you don’t take a chance on Lucian, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life, and you know what’ll happen? You’ll end up as a lonely, bitter old guy living on the edge of town with nothing in his life except a funny looking little dog, fading memories, and dreams of what might have been. It doesn’t have to be that way, but the only way to make sure is to pull your head out of your ass and not be scared.” She got up and gazed down at him.
“I’m picking him up from his apartment tomorrow at ten o’clock. Stop me from giving him a ride, Arlo. Stop him from catching that flight.”
CHAPTERFORTY-ONE
Lucian put the second of his two suitcases in the trunk of Bibi’s car. He had arrived with little, so he wasn’t leaving with much, and the battered cases seemed like a testament to his life in Collier’s Creek.
Stupid…
So a brief love affair had ended. They hadn’t been much more than a holiday fling, really. Yes, that was the way to look at it, because this town wasn’t for him. He’d only ever been passing through and now he was going back home to the life he knew, and that really, absolutely was for the best. His hand tightened on the edge of the trunk. He’d been telling himself that for the last week, each word a heavy strap, holding him together; without the words he couldn’t believe in, he’d spill out over the floor into a million pieces he’d never be able to put back together again.
He slammed the trunk lid down hard and picked up his small backpack, checking again he had his passport along with all his travel documents.
“I’m ready.” He looked at Bibi, who leaned against the car’s hood. She looked at her watch and said something under her breath, but it was too quiet for him to hear.
“You okay, Bibi? You keep looking at your watch. Not keeping you, I hope.” He tried to inject some life into his voice, but it fell as flat as under baked bread. “I suppose we may as well go now. No point in hanging around.” No, no point at all.
“Just need to check something. The traffic.” She walked off, hunkered over her cell.
They’d already checked on the traffic status, and everything was clear; it would be a straightforward ride into Denver. Maybe she was jittery because he was leaving. Guilt gnawed at him, as he’d only told her yesterday he couldn’t stay in the Creek. He’d heard the disappointment in her voice when she accepted his decision, and he’d closed his eyes to stop the tears, knowing it was the disappointment of a good friend rather than his employer.
“Traffic still good?” Lucian asked, as Bibi returned, shoving her cell into her purse.
“What?”
“The traffic? You were just checking on it.”
“Oh, yeah. Just wanted to make sure. No sudden change. I guess we might as well go.”
“Bibi?”
“Yeah?”
“Just this.” Lucian dropped his backpack at his feet and enveloped her in his arms.
“I’m so, so sorry for dumping on you like this. These last few days, I—I wondered if things might change, but they haven’t and they won’t.” He buried his face into her soft hair. “I just can’t stay here any longer, I just can’t. I know I’m dropping you in it, and that there are orders to fulfill in the store, and I’m not sure how you’re going to do it because you’re such a crappy florist… Sorry, I shouldn’t say that because you’re not really that bad. I suppose.”
