where I left off last night.
“Taylor?” a male voice called out.
I dropped my chin to my chest. Of course.
“You’re still here?” Jason stood in front of me with wide eyes.
“I am.” I looked back down to my screen, hoping he would take the hint.
He didn’t. He sat in the chair opposite mine and waited for me to look at him. I could feel him staring but pretended to be super absorbed in what I was doing.
“How’s the job hunting going?”
“It’s going.” Hopefully short answers would signal to him that I was not in the mood for small talk.
“I’m sure you’ll find something perfect soon. They’d be fools not to want you.”
They? That was an ambiguous statement.
I nodded and began filling out the personal information section on the application I was currently working on. I had little to no interest in working in Phoenix but was past the point of being picky.
“I forgot to ask last time, how are your parents? And Carrie?”
So, we were doing this. I shut my laptop and held his gaze. “My parents are fine. Dad still works at the firm, nowhere close to wanting to retire. Mom is still in the booster club, even though we’ve all graduated. Carrie and Rick are good. Kimmy is five, she’s about to go into first grade and they have a son, Carson. He’s two and into everything.” I smile at the thought of the little Tasmanian Devil of destruction.
“That’s good. I’m glad they’re all doing well.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe Kimmy’s already in school.”
That’s what happened after four years. Babies grew up. People changed.
“It’s crazy.”
I felt obligated to ask about his parents. I only met them a handful of times, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
“And the Murphys? Do they still live next door?” he asked before I could.
The Murphys were his sponsor family. He and three other guys on his team from Canada lived with them during the hockey season.
“Yeah, they do. Matthew is almost ten now.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “There is no way. He’s my little buddy.”
Matthew was his little buddy. Back then.
“He plays hockey too. I guess years of living with you guys rubbed off on him.”
“That’s amazing. I’m going to have to reach out to them.”
He got a distant look in his eyes, and I hoped this was the end of our little reunion. Even though we’d been cordial to each other, that didn’t mean we had to pretend to be friends. We were one wrong move or word away from hurting each other at any moment. At least I was. It took every ounce of strength I had, and my mother’s voice reminding me to be kind and not make a scene, to keep from screaming four years’ worth of resentment at his stupid, perfect face.
“I’m sure they would like that.” There. Mom would be so proud.
“There are a lot of things about that time I would like to change, you know?” A darkness fell over his face. Almost like sadness. “I was young and stupid, but those aren’t excuses. I was smart enough back then to avoid the mistakes I made.”
My heart tightened, and I let out a tiny gasp hoping he wouldn’t notice while he stared at the small glass table between us.
He was calling me a mistake? The things we did? Who we were together? That hurt almost as much as when he left without a word.
At least before this moment, I could convince myself I’d meant just as much to him as he had to me. That our history mattered.
He wanted to change that? Call it all a mistake? How dare he. I wanted to reach over and strangle him or give him a good shake. That would probably draw less attention.
Before I could curse him into tomorrow, he sighed. “I told myself I was giving you space so you could enjoy college. I convinced myself it was best for you. That it was the right thing. But it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”
The vulnerability in his voice had me leaning forward. “Then why did you do it?”
“I was terrified,” he whispered.
“Of what?” I needed the answer, more than my next breath. I had to know.
“Failing you.” His head dropped. “I’d already let you down in the worst way possible. I hurt you, and I couldn’t do it again. I wouldn’t have survived. I was so scared through the draft, training camps, and even as I got