“What did I miss?” Lilith asked as she walked up. “Who. Is. He?”
“That’s Zola’s boyfriend.”
“I understand why she left the single life now.”
They cackled.
He introduced himself to each of them before turning back to me. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah,” I murmured as the applause and cheers rained down.
Saint and I went outside, standing near the side of the building. As soon as the brisk October air hit me, I pulled my black leather jacket tighter and stuffed my hands in the pockets.
“I’m sorry to take you away from your friends. Are you cold?” he asked.
“I’m okay. And they’re fine without me.”
We were both quiet, the sound of the people moving in and out of Black Lotus surrounding us.
The fluttering in my belly intensified with each passing second. I had to say something. “I thought you didn’t perform in front of crowds.”
A smile played on his lips. “I don’t. But you changed your number, and I didn’t want to just pop up at your house unannounced, not after ol’ boy. But I knew you would be here, so I waited.” He stared at me for a second. “I called you Friday night, but…”
“I changed my number,” I finished his sentence.
“Yeah…”
“What were you calling me about?”
“To tell you everything I’d said on stage.” He shook his head slowly and closed his eyes for a second. “I regretted letting you leave as soon as you drove away. I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to apologize for not being with me. If I’m not what you want—”
“That’s not it at all,” he interjected forcefully. “God, Zola, that’s not it.”
I didn’t know if it was the cold air or his words that made me shiver.
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry for how everything looked, and I understand why you would be upset. I would be upset, too. But just to be clear, my feelings for you are real. I never doubted or questioned that. Not once. Not ever.”
“But if you don’t think your dad wants you to be with me, then you’re always going to have doubts. You’re always going to be looking for a way out,” he said. “I know how much your dad means to you.”
I shook my head. “I realized that my dad wanted me to be with someone that made me a better version of myself, someone who made me happy. And Saint, you make me happy. You make me a better version of myself.”
“All I want to do is make you happy,” he whispered.
My voice trembled but I continued, “And I’m not your ex. I’m not like her.”
He took a step toward me so that I was close enough to smell his cologne. I inhaled deeply. Sliding his hands across my cheeks, he grabbed my face and pulled me into him.
“You are nothing like my ex and I’m sorry I said that,” he apologized. “I’m sorry I let you go. I’m sorry if I fucked this up.”
I searched his eyes. Taking my hands out of my pockets, I put them on his sides. I missed his scent. I missed his touch. His closeness reminded me of what I wanted and needed in my life—him.
“I was thinking that I was the one who fucked this up,” I whispered. “I should’ve told you about meeting with Jordan.”
“And I shouldn’t have told you that I can’t do this when it’s all I want to do.”
“You think I’m not ready for this because of my dating history,” I breathed, leaning my cheek into his hand.
“I knew you were dating other people when I pursued you. I just wasn’t ready for how I would feel about you so quickly. Maybe you didn’t hesitate—”
“No,” I interrupted. “You weren’t wrong. I did hesitate. But not because I didn’t want you.” I swallowed hard. “This just scares me.”
“You don’t have anything to be scared of.”
“I felt you pulling away and it hurt in a way that I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for you. And it scares me, Saint.”
“I wasn’t prepared for you either. But all it took was that first night with you to know that I was in love with you,” he confessed. “After I called you and your phone was disconnected, I opened your gift. When I saw that you took my grandma’s recipe cards and made a cookbook for me, I tried calling again because that’s when I knew you loved me, too.”
My lips trembled and I bit down on the bottom one to try to stop it. My entire body began shivering as his words coursed through my veins.
His eyes searched mine as he held me close. “You don’t have to say it if—”
“I love you.”
He crashed his mouth into mine and his soft lips moved powerfully and with purpose. He kissed me gently at first, but then it intensified. All the pent-up emotions, all the missing, all the yearning, and all the love was poured into that kiss. Pulling away fractionally, he whispered, “Tell your friends goodnight. I’m taking you home.”
*****
Epilogue
Six Weeks Later
I took a sip of my tea before placing the cup down and flashing a huge grin. “My last letter comes from Shannon from Virginia,” I said into the camera.
Dear Zola,
I met a man last year who had a lot of the qualities that I look for and he seemed like a great fit for me. We talked about what we wanted, what we were looking for, and what we felt for one another. We were on the exact same page. It seemed that we wanted the same thing and that we were moving in the same direction. But somewhere along the line that stopped being the case. I’ve supported him and encouraged him and given a lot to our relationship. I was there for him through a lot of the stuff he had going on, but there’s been no reciprocity. I’ve talked to him about it and nothing has changed. And to make matters worse, he never has time for me anymore. Correction, he never makes time for me anymore. This has been the case for the last nine months. I want to be with someone who is active in a relationship with me…not someone who wants to be in a relationship on his time. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a good man. But I’m not happy. And I think for the last few months I’ve just been fighting for us to make it work out of habit because the feelings are still there. Do you think this is just a rough patch during a rough year or do you think I should cut my losses?
“Dear Shannon… I think you know the answer to your question, but you need to hear someone else say it.” I paused to pick up my tea and sip it. “There is a distinct difference between someone who fits you in during their free time and someone who frees their time to fit you in.” I shook my head. “I completely understand the struggle of dating a busy man. I understand the struggle of being the busy one. But if you’re in a relationship with someone, you have to make them a priority. They don’t have to be your only priority. But they have to be a priority. You said you’re not happy. Sis… cut your losses. Life is too short for you to be unhappy. If you’ve talked to him and he’s made no changes, if you’ve put in the work and got nothing out of it, cut your losses. If you’ve done everything you can do to make it work and it’s not working, that’s not a rough patch. That’s just not for you. I know it’s hard to let go of people you’re attached to, but you have to take a step back and look at it for what it is.” I lifted my shoulders and gave a sympathetic look. “I don’t know this man and I don’t know what circumstances constitute a rough time in his life. But what you’ve described sounds more like you’re his girlfriend when he wants you to be, but he’s never your boyfriend. But it sounds like you know this already. It sounds like your feelings are holding you back. You have to live with your decisions so I’m not going to tell you what to do. But if you’re asking me if you should stay and see if it works itself out or if you should go, my vote is for you to go. Healthy relationships require two active participants.” I held up two fingers. “Two.”