Page 28 of Edging Desire

I knew the ice rink was important to her. I just didn’t realize how important it was, though. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? It wouldn’t have mattered. I did what I had to do. It was my motherfucking job. What was I supposed to do? I can just imagine the conversation with my boss. “Oh, my girlfriend really wants that rink. So you can just suck it, big guy.” That would go over well.

It was never going to work out, anyway. Apparently, she has strong feelings about moving to Boston, and I can’t move back to Winter Ridge. There are no jobs here for me unless you count selling hot chocolate at the hot chocolate stand. It’s not exactly a lucrative career move.

My voice of reason is giving me a thousand reasons why it never would’ve worked between us, but my heart only needs one reason as to why it would’ve worked.

I love her.

I love her wholly, completely, and with every ounce of my being.

And now she hates me with every ounce of her being. I heard her sobs as she walked away from me last night. The painful tears broke me, crushed me. I stood there and watched her walk away. Each step she took felt like a stab to my heart.

Why does life have to be so hard?

I met the girl of my dreams, and I fucked it all up. Twice. If anyone deserves to be alone, it’s this poor bastard.

If only I could stay in this bed all day and avoid everyone and everything, that would be great. Too bad I have a job to do. I might as well finish what I started. Gerald is expecting me to stop by with the agreements to sign. A deal is a deal.

At least when it’s all done, I’ll have a big promotion and a hefty raise to go back to. I wish I cared about that. It would make all of this a little easier to swallow.

“Brad!” my mom yells from downstairs. “Are you up yet?”

I glance at the clock on my dresser. Noon. I’m not usually one to sleep in, but it’s hard to get up when you don’t have anything to look forward to. If I don’t make my way downstairs soon, I have the feeling my mom will start badgering me with questions that I don’t want to answer.

I pull on some jeans and throw on a shirt before making my way to the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs greets me when I walk in. Instead of making me hungry, my stomach rolls in protest. The thought of eating when I feel like shit is not appealing.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sleepyhead. I thought you’d never get up. You okay?”

She pins me with shrewd, knowing eyes, and I almost groan out loud. Damn small towns. She’s probably been on the phone with fifteen of her old cronies by now.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

“You’ve got to fix this thing with Winny, son.”

“Drop it,” I tell her. The edge to my voice would make most people back down. Not my mom. She’s not afraid of me or anyone else.

“No, I’m not dropping it. You’ve loved that girl for as long as I can remember. You two belong together. So fix whatever it is you did. Say you’re sorry and kiss and make up.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“You’re not the first man in history to screw up. What you need is a grand gesture to win her back. I was talking to Nora next door, and we came up with some ideas. Sit down, and we can talk about it.”

I throw my hands up in exasperation and shoot her a look of disbelief. “Can you please stop gossiping about me with your neighbors?”

Ignoring me and not fazed even a bit, she pulls out a chair and pats the back. “Sit down. Let’s go over my ideas. Nora will be over in a few minutes.”

The toaster dings. I walk over and pick up the slightly browned toast, then turn to my mom and peck her on the cheek. “Mom, I love you, but I’m not staying around for this. I have some things to finish up in town over the next couple of days. You’re almost packed up, too. Pretty soon, we’ll both be on our way out of here. I, for one, plan to never come back. Winny and I are done.”

The finality of the words hit me in the gut with the force of a category-five hurricane. The disappointed look on my mom’s face is more than I can take at the moment.

Desperate for time alone, I grab my wallet and my keys and head out to my car. The need to get away is a driving force that propels me forward. I don’t know where I’m going, and I don’t care.

I just need to escape.

I’ve only felt this urge to run away one time in my life, and that was four years ago. Despite all my efforts, history is repeating itself. Only this time, it rings with a permanence I never felt back then.

This time, she hates me.