Groaning aloud, I realise I’m not getting anywhere in a hurry. I make my way back down to the front door and knock. I’m sure I saw Toby’s Ute parked up the driveway when I pulled in. I knock and wait for the door to be opened.
Toby opens the door and chuckles. “Since when do you knock?”
“Since your sister no longer lives here.”
“Fair point. What brings you here?” he asks.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard me banging on Jake’s door just now?”
He grins, stepping aside to let me in. “The entire street heard you. What has my brother done?”
“That is between us. Is he home?” I ask as I dump my bag beside the couch.
“No, he’s not.”
“Okay, so he’s home late. I’ll wait.”
Toby looks at me as a sad expression washes over his face. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
“Tell me what?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“He deployed again.”
It takes me a moment to process his words.
He deployed, and he never said a word; not even goodbye?
Then it dawns on me. That was why he came around to my place the other night. He wanted to spend some time with me and then tell me he was leaving.
Was he going to ask me to be his girl and wait for him to come home?
I’m not sure because he saw Bryan, and something changed. He got the wrong impression, and he didn’t even give me a chance to explain.
Picking up my bag, I look at Toby, trying to hide my hurt. “Thanks, Toby. I gotta go.”
I have to get out of here. I really don’t want to cry in front of Toby.
Even before I reach my car, the tears are flowing free. Angry, hot tears are flowing down my cheeks. I can’t believe Jake never had the balls to tell me he was leaving. Sitting in my car, I place my hands over my face and sob, trying to take deep breaths as my heart heaves inside my chest.
My car passenger door opens, and Toby slides into the seat.
“I can’t watch you cry because of Jake and not say something. I didn’t know there was anything between you and him. Are you two a couple?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what we are. Honestly, I thought I meant more to him than what I do. He couldn’t even tell me he was leaving.”
Toby inhales. “You probably do mean as much to him as he clearly does to you. He’s just a stubborn ass who doesn’t express himself very well. He never has. When our parents died, I had to literally pin him down to get him to talk to me.”
“He is very stubborn.”
“Why don’t you come and join us for dinner? Jake will come around. I have no doubt he won’t be able to stay mad at you. Seems to me that he’s met the love of his life with you, and if you look at Sasha and me, I’d do anything for her. You just need to give him time.”
“How long is he away for?” I ask, turning to look at him.
“Four months which should be more than enough time for him to calm down.”
“I hope so. Seems what I thought was a crush on him has turned into something stronger. I don’t think I can live my life without him in it.”
“Now, come on, you can help me make the salad.”
“What are we having for dinner?” I ask.
“Chicken parmigiana.”
“Yum.”
Toby grins, and I wipe my eyes. Flicking the car mirror down, I make sure I still look okay, and my eyes aren’t too puffy.
I’ll give Jake the time away to think things over. Then, when he comes home, I’m not going to let him walk away so easily. I need him in my life.
Chapter Ten
Stephanie
It’s been a month since Jake left and unsurprisingly, I haven’t heard from him. I’ve regretted not inviting him in to join my family and me for dinner that last night I saw him. Maybe things would be different between us right now. Maybe we would have been in a relationship.
I know Toby and Aria have both heard from him, but neither of them mentions him in front of me. I know they’re trying to spare my feelings, but they don’t have to. I’m a big girl; I can take it.
I just hope when he gets home that he will give me a chance to explain everything.
I begin setting up my table for today’s wedding show and hang the few dresses I’ve brought with me to show off to brides so they can see a few of the designs. I also have my folder with pictures in it of bridesmaid dresses, flower girl dresses and tuxedos.
“I don’t know why you’re bothering to display those. Your designs get uglier every year,” a voice snarls behind me.
Spinning around, I come face-to-face with my rival, Darla. We were in design school together, and she hated me because my designs were always top of the class.
I don’t want to stoop to her level; my mother raised me to be better than that. I can hear her words clear as day in my mind.
“Stephanie, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
Wise words from a wiser woman.
“Hello, Darla, nice to see you. Good luck today,” I tell her in a tone as upbeat as I can possibly muster despite how miserable I am feeling.
She examines her nails as if she’s just chipped one. “Yes well, we will see who comes out on top today.” She turns on her heels and walks away.
“Who was that disaster?” Riley asks beside me.
“That was my design school rival. I’m damn sure she only came over here to see what dresses I have today, and to tell me they’re ugly.”
“I bet hers are worse.” Riley laughs as she begins setting up a stall beside mine.
“Is your stall here?” I ask.
“Sure is.”
“I’m glad to be next to someone I know.”
“I’ll send a few people over. I also have personal experience working with you so I can definitely say your designs are not ugly,” she reassures me.
I finish setting up my table and stall with five minutes to spare. When the doors open, there’s a flurry of excitement amongst women, men and children all filing in to see what the show is all about. Some of the men who come to my stalls with their brides look less than enthusiastic about being here. Typical and yet, comical.
It also makes me think of Jake.
Is he happy overseas? Does he miss me as I do him?
I turn around to compose myself away from my potential clients. I miss him so much I just wish I could text him and tell him that.
By the end of the event, I’ve got so many new clients booked to come in and try on dresses and tuxedos. I even had a few brides who wanted bridesmaid dresses made too.
Dragging my feet up my front steps, I’m ready for a quiet night in and some of my favourite red wine. I really want to drown my sorrows in alcohol tonight because Jake not talking to me sucks.
Only, as I walk into my house, I hear the sound of voices coming from the kitchen and the aroma of something delicious wafts down the hall. My stomach growls in agreement as the smell gets stronger. I make my way down the hall in hopes that Jake might have come home early and is cooking me dinner. I know it’s wishful thinking, but I really want to see him. I’d do anything to see him.