Reckless Hero

“You have reached the phone of Anna Harper. I am unable to take your call right now. Please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can.”

I hung up without leaving a message. What was the use when the others I’d left had gone unanswered?

Anna was ignoring me. It had been two days since our encounter in the library.

Two days since she’d left me in the building watching her walk away and not knowing what to do to stop it.

Two days since I felt like a part of me was missing.

Two days of trying to find a way to stop caring so much.

It was so much easier to be a playboy and keep my heart unattached, that was for damn sure. I wished I could go back to being the guy I’d been before. I had never cared for women like this until Anna came along. Even after we broke up, I had never connected with another woman on such a level, and I was beginning to think that I never would again.

My mind was settling into the fact that Anna was the only one for me.

She obviously didn’t feel the same though.

She couldn’t wait to get away from me every time we made love; I hated how cheap and used that made me feel.

The guys on my old military squad would have laughed their asses off if they knew how sprung I was.

I tried to convinced myself that I this was just a momentary bout of craziness I was experiencing and it would soon pass. That maybe time away from Anna was a good thing because it would help me get her out of my system.

Yet, none of the self-talk changed how much I missed her—not just her body, but her smile, her voice, her scent…

Everything. I missed everything about her.

I had to stop bull-shitting myself; these feelings wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I wanted them to. I just had to man-up and admit I was all kinds of messed up over Anna Harper.

I would have gone and knocked her door down if I knew where she lived. I would have demanded that she listened to what I had to say.

Hence, it was probably a good thing I didn’t know her address because that way, I couldn’t make a fool of myself.

I put my cellphone away before I wound up dialing her number again. I then pulled out a text book, deciding to try getting some studying done before going to bed.

It was Monday evening, which meant Anna and I had class in the morning.

I would confront her then and lay my feelings on the line.

***

Saying my piece was a lot easier said than done once I was confronted with Anna’s cold and aloof stare the next day.

I sat next to her in what had already become our usual spot. “Good morning,” I greeted.

She gave an uncommitted nod without even looking at me.

Ouch.

The professor came in before any more could be said, and the lecture began. Nevertheless, my attention was mostly on the woman beside me for the better part of two hours. Yet, the whole time, her eyes remained trained on the lecturer. She only moved to flip pages of her notebook when she ran out of writing space.

When the professor dismissed the class, she immediately began packing her stuff.

Just as she was about to leave our table, I reflexively grabbed her arm.

She halted, looking to where my hand touched her as if offended.

Her expression hit me like a punch to the gut. I removed my hand. “We need to talk,” I said after the last student had left and we were alone.