have to go.”
“Fine. Call me when you’re done.”
“I’m busy.”
“Liar, liar pants on fire.”
I rolled my eyes at my sister’s juvenile response, then looked back at the doors to the VA. I was indeed late and I had to get my immature sister off the phone.
“You’re so annoying.”
“I know. But you love me. Talk to you later.”
Hadley disconnected, I juggled the load in my arms, and grabbed my phone off my shoulder. I was in the midst of trying to adjust my purse while simultaneously thinking about what in the world I had in my bag that was so heavy, when I heard my name called and scanned the courtyard for a familiar face. Not seeing one, I figured I was hearing things and started for the door when I heard my name again, this time louder, closer, and I glanced over my shoulder to find a man in uniform ambling my way.
“Addy?” he inquired and stopped a few feet away.
Out of habit, my eyes hit the soldier’s front closure of his jacket to check rank—three chevrons—a sergeant. Then my gaze traveled to his name tape and I froze.
Belview.
Jake Belview.
“Jake?”
“I thought that was you,” he returned.
I really, really wished I hadn’t taken my sister’s call. If I hadn’t, I would’ve been in the tiny office I shared with three other PTs and not standing in front of my ex-boyfriend.
“It’s me,” I lamely returned, not knowing what else to say to the guy who broke my heart.
Jake glanced at the foam roller, likely took in my workout clothes, and smiled.
“You did it.”
I didn’t need him to elaborate. When we were together, I’d told him all about how I’d wanted to become a physical therapist. Further, he knew my desire to help wounded vets.
“I did.” I tried and failed to return his smile.
His grin faded and his expression turned guarded.
“Addy, listen—”
Oh, no, I wasn’t listening to anything he had to say. He’d said enough when he dumped me before he left for deployment. Something I didn’t want. I grew up an army brat. I understood the hardships and I’d been willing to stick it out. Jake on the other hand was adamant it wouldn’t work. His rejection hurt and had shaped how I viewed relationships.
So, heck no, I didn’t want to listen. I wanted to get to work.
“Whatever you’re gonna say is unnecessary. It was a long time ago.”
Yet in the years Jake had been gone, I hadn’t recovered. Not that I still had feelings for him—I was way over him. But I’d never gotten over the sting of him callously tossing me aside.
“Honey, the way you’re looking at me says otherwise. I think there’s a lot to say.”
“I’m late for a session, Jake.”
“Let me buy you lunch when you’re done.”
“I don’t—”
“Just lunch, Addy. Please. I owe you an apology and an explanation.”
“You really don’t.”
“There’s not much I regret, but leaving you the way I did is at the top of that list. I’m asking you to please let me buy you lunch. It would mean a lot to me if I could explain what was going on.”
It was obvious Jake wasn’t going to let lunch go, and now I was seriously late. On that thought, I gave in.
“My session’s over at noon.”
Jake gave me a small smile and said, “I’ll be in the lobby.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
I didn’t bother returning Jake’s half-hearted grin, I didn’t bid him a farewell or nice seeing you. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but seeing my ex wasn’t a pleasant surprise and he had to know that.
I rushed through the maze of hallways until I reached the far corner of the building and pushed into the physical therapy room. There were men and women on various exercise machines, some were stretching on the mat, others were being spotted by trainers. I glanced around and didn’t see anyone from my class so I went into the office and dropped my stuff on the desk I used. The desk wasn’t mine, I shared it with three others, but luckily I was alone in the office. With twenty minutes to spare, I plopped down in the chair and exhaled.
It would take a lot more than yoga and meditation today to clear my mind.
Thoughts of Trey and Jake battled for supremacy in my head. Two men, neither of them welcomed thoughts. Both of them had hurt me. But it was Trey who cut deeper.
You’ve never known anything but fucking perfect your whole coddled life.
Trey was right, I had been coddled. But