When Sparks Fly

* * *

The next morning I’m drinking my coffee, eating avocado toast, working on the crossword puzzle Declan left at Jerome’s. Whether or not he left it there intentionally, I’m unsure, but it makes me miss Declan and our comfortable, easy friendship.

When I get to thirty-six across, I grin. It has something to do with the financial sector and there’s a little smirky face drawn beside it, as if Declan knew I’d struggle with it. And that’s all the confirmation I need that he left it behind on purpose.

I take a picture with my finger beside the smirky face and message it to him with the question: “Six letter word beginning with F?”

“You ready to go, Ave? We need to be out the door in five.” Harley appears with her camera bag already slung over her shoulder and her to-go coffee cup that reads HELLO GORGEOUS. She has one for every day of the week, and she chooses them based on her mood.

“Yup. All set.” I leave the crossword on the table, put my dishes in the dishwasher, and scan the cupboards for a travel mug so I can bring another coffee to go—I only have one and Declan gave it to me two years ago for my birthday. It’s a Yeti, and there was no way I was going to leave it behind in the move. Although now it feels a lot more like another one of the threads that tie us together.

Instead of borrowing one of Harley’s many travel mugs, I use the Yeti for the first time since I moved out of the condo. On our way to Spark House my phone buzzes with a message.

Declan: You’re not even going to guess?

Avery: I figured the smirky face was your way of saying there’s no way I’d be able to get the answer, but if you prefer I struggle for a while that’s fine too.

The inchworm dots appear and disappear a couple of times before another message finally appears.

Declan: I miss you.

I stare at those three little words and feel them in my heart like a hug.

Declan: So ducking much.

A GIF appears with a guy shaking his fist and the words “Damn you, autocorrect.”

I chuckle and fire off another message.

Avery: Autocorrect is a jerk. I miss U2.

Avery: and by U2 I mean you also, not the band.

We’re pulling into the Spark House parking lot when the next message comes through.

Declan: Can I call you?

I wait until the car is parked before I tell Harley I need to take a call and message him back with “I’d love that.” Instead of heading for the hotel, I walk toward the obstacle course that’s been set up for the corporate team-building event we’re hosting later this week.

I answer on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself.” Declan clears his throat. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. I’m really glad you called.” During the first week I left voicemails and messages for him, hoping he’d respond, but it hurt too much to see them unanswered every time I opened my phone, so I had to stop. At least until now. I sit on one of the rope swings designed to be walked across. There are six spread at two-foot intervals. “How are you?”

“Okay most days, not so okay other days. It’s good to hear your voice. I miss you so damn much.” He exhales a long, slow breath, as if he’s trying to get a handle on his emotions.

I’ve already lost that battle. Tears track down my cheeks and drop onto my pants, soaking into the black fabric. “I miss you too.” I hate the heavy silence, and the compulsion to try and fill it with jokes, anything to lessen the ache in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“Me too.” I lean my head against the rope and close my eyes, wishing I could reach out and touch him, knowing it’s a good thing I can’t.

“I know I messed up, Ave. A lot. Maybe more than you can forgive me for.”

“I should have talked to you first. Now that I’ve had time to really process it, I know what I did was wrong. I wasn’t thinking, not about how seeing Sam would affect you. Affect us. You put me before your friendship with him at every turn. I should have realized it would be a huge betrayal. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I know I overreacted.”

“I don’t know that you did, though. Not considering the history, and his ultimatum, and the fact that your mom had called with news about your dad. I’m sorry about that too. I feel awful. I wish I could have been there for you instead of giving you something else to be upset about.”

“I could have handled it a lot better than I did. I should have explained what happened with my parents and talked it out with you.”