Then out of nowhere Blake asks, “Why do you owe this girl an apology?”
Shit, where do I begin? Looking for answers in the bottom of my beer glass and coming up empty, I say, “I’m ashamed to admit I wrote her a Dear Jane letter from Kabul.”
Blake turns his head sharply toward me. “Shit, that's pretty low…”
Just then, a couple of guys from the office shout out goodbye as they walk to the front door. We both automatically raise our beers in acknowledgment.
I see the interruption as an opportunity to change the subject. “Do you want another round?” Besides, what more is there to say other than it was a cowardly act.
Once I’ve ordered us two more beers, I launch into a discussion about a new security software program recently released. Work is a much safer neutral topic.
Sharing my failings with Cassie is not helping to make my mood any better.
A few hours later when I’m back home, I find myself pacing in front of the large windows in my living room. The reflection of the city lights the only illumination in the darkened room.
I can't stop thinking about what Blake said as we left the pub. “Call her. It sounds like you need to call this girl Cassie. Not only for her but for you too.”
He's probably right, but what would I say?
Chapter 7
Cassie
Sunlightthroughmyun-shutteredwindow wakes me earlier than I want. Damn, I forgot to pull the blind down last night.
A sunny spring day should probably be celebrated, but not when I have a bit of a headache from too many Friday Fancies last night. Make that more than a bit of a headache, my head is pounding like a school band has taken up residence. Damn, tequila cocktails. I guess I should've had another glass of water before bed. I’m twenty-nine years old, when will I learn?
Sleepily I reach over to my bedside table to get my bottle of water. At least I remembered to fill the bottle before I got into bed last night. As I pick up the bottle, I knock my phone onto the floor.
Shit! My hand-eye coordination is way off this morning. Rolling over, I reach my hand down beside my bed. My fingers searching the carpet and closing around my cell as it vibrates with a new message.
Turning my phone on, I see I've just missed a call from Mom. It’s way too early for a mom chat, I'll do that later when I’m feeling more human. I quickly text her back. Then clicking on the message icon, I scroll to the unknown number at the top.
As soon as I open the message, my heart sinks.
Unknown number: Hi Cassie, this is Luke.
What the fuck. Luke texted me at 12:47 a.m. while I was sleeping. I’m not sure if I’m more shocked to see a text from Luke or the words in the text.
Seriously, I don’t hear from the guy for years, and all he’s got isHi. No way is he getting away with this garbage.
I sit up in bed and angrily text back, my cell shaking in my hand as my fingers hit the wrong letters in my rush to reply.
Cassie:WTF! That's all you've got after eight years of silence.
Within minutes my phone vibrates with a reply. What was he waiting for a reply for like nine hours?
Luke:I didn’t know what else to say.
This gets worse. Seriously you’d think after eight years, he would have improved his communication skills at least a little.
Cassie:How about starting with SORRY. How about 100 times saying you're SORRY. How about ending with SORRY. How about leaving me alone to live my life free of assholes who broke my heart.
Shit, I didn’t mean to put the last bit in. Why am I letting him make me so angry? I need to take a breath and think before I hit send.
Luke:Sorry. You're right I should have started with sorry. I truly am SORRY. I treated you badly in the past and I regret that.
Cassie:Too true and too late Asshole!!!
