Page 35 of Never Going to Care

My eyes narrow even though she can’t see me. “How did you get so smart?”

She sighs. “Sometimes we wish people would see what we really are but fear gets in the way. Do you move on? Do you push it? I understand that it’s hard to put yourself out there because you might get hurt.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “What are you talking about, Stella?” She’s silent on the other end of the line and I push gently, “Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing important. Not right now. I’m just realizing that waiting around for something isn’t going to make it happen. If it was meant to be, it would be. I can’t change who I am or what I want, but I don’t have to wallow in it. I can choose a different path.” Her voice softens. “So can you. You can stop pushing him away and instead embrace him.”

The word slips free before I can stop it, “Who?”

She clears her throat, and she deflects. “I didn’t call to talk about me. I called to talk about you.”

“We can do both,” I offer.

She chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound and it punches me right in the gut. “Not this time,” she whispers. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I just realize I need to move on and that’s okay, but I don’t think the same advice will work for you. Not now.”

“Not now?”

“You flew too close to the sun,” there’s real amusement in her voice. “You won’t be able to settle for anything less now that you’ve had him. I think he’ll be good for you. You complement each other. Just,” she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, “don’t wait too long to cross back over the bridge. You might not like what you find on the other side if you do.”

“That’s some deep shit right there, Stel.”

She laughs. “I have my moments.” There’s a pause and I can hear the smile in her voice again. “I need to get going, but I wanted to talk to you. Now I have. So, what are you going to do about it?”

My mouth opens, but no words work their way out of me. I don’t even know what to say. Before I can figure it out, she tells me goodbye softly and hangs up. I’m stuck in a loop of thought and hope, fear and mindlessness. I don’t know which way is up or down.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it does.

Do I miss Hale? Surprisingly, yes, I do. Do I hate how I left him? Yes, without a doubt.

It’s hard to go back and undo something. It feels like walking away was final. However, that doesn’t mean Stella was wrong either.

I don’t know if I can go back to him with my tail between my legs and hope in my heart. Did I do it just to see if he would come after me? Isn’t that unfair as fuck?

I feel all out of sorts and it’s not helping that I keep feeling like there’s a tug in my chest. I know what it’s pulling me toward, but I’m not sure if running to Hale will solve my problems or make more of them.

I wish I could be decisive. I always have been before. I stand up for what I think is right and I don’t back down. Right now I’m feeling lost and alone even though I just got off the phone with my best friend who I know only has my best intentions in her heart.

It’s hard to shut down my fears and my insecurities.

I try and focus on work, going over the interns should be easy to do, but I can’t seem to focus on the words on the screen of my computer. I need to write an overall report for my boss, but I don’t know if it will get done today. I understand the point, it’s to help us pick interns next year and fine tune the questions we ask during the interview process.

Maybe I need some coffee?

I stand up and stretch, trying to get rid of the ache which has become deeply entrenched in my bones. I know it won’t help, but it’s worth a try anyway. I think. I have a feeling I know what I need to get rid of the ache completely.

I’m just not ready to do it.

I check my phone, my heart dropping because, again, there’s no message from Hale waiting for me. It’s not fair or right, I get it. I shake off the feeling of disappointment and focus on heading to the breakroom where coffee is waiting for me.

Well, it should have been waiting for me. Frustration fills me when I see that the pot is empty. Whoever made coffee last didn’t even bother to remove the filter or the used grinds. Fucking heathens in this office who can’t show any respect for others

I want to fling the coffee pot across the room just to see it shatter, but I know it won’t help anything. At least, I don’t think it will. I might get some satisfaction from it, but it would be fleeting.

I can’t do fleeting right now. It’ll just remind me of the moments I had with Hale at his place.

As much as I tried to tamp down the desire I had for more, it didn’t work. I can still feel the way his hands touched me with reverence and care. I’ve been trying to convince myself he could never care about me, but his touches and the look in his eyes tell me a different story.

I don’t think I’m twisting it up in my memory either. I knew it in the moment, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it.

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