I wanted her. Not only for me, but for her too. The need to pull her into my arms when she’d casually mentioned never celebrating her birthday had been so overwhelming, I’d nearly had to leave the table. If it were up to me, she’d never have to question whether someone would remember her birthday. She’d come to expect it. We’d celebrate the hell out of her, making up for a lifetime of neglect.
But she didn’t want that. Not from me.
We were inAntarctica.
So I kept my mouth shut and my eyes off her, fighting every instinct I possessed in order to give her what she’d asked for.
“Oh. I didn’t know you were in here.”
My head shot up at the sound of her voice. “I was cleaning up. Did you need something?”
Beatrice Novak fidgeting, one foot balanced on top of the other, chewing on her bottom lip, looking unsure and off-balance. It was so foreign, I had to do a double take to make sure it was really her.
Then I forced my eyes off her, for both our sakes.
“A few paper towels. Tally spilled his water.”
I ripped a sheet off the roll and offered it to her, making sure our hands didn’t touch. “There you go.”
She sucked in a breath, like she was preparing to leap into something or make a run for it. I couldn’t tell which.
I glanced at her, and she finally spoke.
“You stopped chasing me.”
Herwords were barely more than a whisper, but they struck me in the gut like a sledgehammer. I couldn’t form a response. I was winded, and my mind had been wiped clean of intelligible thought.
She nodded, like she’d come to a conclusion. “It’s fine. At least I know. Thanks for having me over tonight. This was…well, it was the best. Good night, Tore.”
I watched her walk away. Listened to her say goodbye to the children. Imagined them embracing her with all their might.
Through it all, I didn’t say a word. Didn’t move. Just stood there, grasping the roll of paper towels, replaying what she’d said.
You stopped chasing me.
The floor tilted beneath me. I’d gotten it wrong. All of it very, very wrong.
“She’s gone.”
I turned, finding my dad standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, looking more pissed than I’d ever seen him.
“She’s the one you were seeing.”
“She is,” I confirmed.
“I know. I’m not stupid.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “You might be, though, if you let her leave.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t exactly argue with that.
My dad shook his head. “I swear to god, Sal, if you don’t go after her, I will.”
That got my attention. My head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
“I don’t think so,” I growled.
He shrugged. “Then go get your woman. If you don’t, I guarantee someone else will come along and claim her. They don’t make women like that these days, you know.”
I stared at him for two long breaths.
