He shuts the door and I turn around. There’s a mat that says, “Welcome-ish” and a knitted flag thing on the door that has a wine glass on it. I smirk. Slipper Dick.
I take a deep breath and knock. I can hear talking inside, and it sounds like maybe the television is on. When there’s no answer, I knock again. Then I hear rushed movement, the door jostles, and someone says, “oh shit.” I look up at the peephole and lift a brow.
Another minute goes by before the door opens. Slipper Dick and the Ginger are standing with their arms crossed like some sort of security brigade, but it’s the blonde roommate who steps out to face me and shuts the door behind her.
“Riggs,” she says sternly.
“Ivy.” I know who she is without her having to tell me. Bailey has talked a lot about her.
“She doesn’t want to see you.” Her stare and voice are both pointed, bucking argument.
“I know.”
She arches a brow, and I start to sweat under her scrutiny. Damn. She’s intimidating. No wonder she’s gonna be a lawyer.
“Look,” I start. “I know I fucked up big.”
“You did.”
“Right, I know.” I release a breath and scrub my hand down my face. “I want to make this right. I need to.” I meet her eyes and lay it all on the line. “I’m in love with her, Ivy.”
She doesn’t give an inch. “Have you told her that?”
“Not yet. That’s why I’m here. I have to see her.”
Still, she doesn’t say anything. Her face is expressionless, but her eyes are hard, assessing.
“Does she hate me?” I ask, fear evident in my tone.
“She might,” Ivy says softly. A slight wince is the only emotion I’ve seen from her. Sympathy. Fuck.
“Fuck,” I mumble, and squeeze my eyes shut. When she sighs, I open my eyes and meet hers.
“Hate is a passionate emotion, just like love. They’re separated only by circumstance. If she feels hate, there’s hope. It’s when she moves to indifference that you have to worry.”
I furrow my brow at her, breath lodged in my chest.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying change your circumstance. If you want a chance for her hate to grow into love, change your circumstance.”
She moves to go back into the apartment, but then she turns back to me. “I’m not doing this because I like you. Right now, I don’t, and I’m not sure you deserve her, but I do know she deserves happiness. She deserves big love, Riggs. The biggest. You think you can give that to her?”
“I’ll spend every day of my life trying.”
Can she hear the desperation in my voice? Can she see how much I love her? How I’ll do anything for her? Ivy nods, and hope blooms in my chest.
“I’ll talk to her,” she says. “Go home. Give her a little space, but don’t give up just yet.”
Then she turns and leaves me standing in the hallway—speechless and breathless, but for the first time in hours, there’s a spark of light on the horizon.
I pull out my phone and send another text.
Me:I’m not giving up, Sundance. You mean too much to me and I can’t lose you. I’m keeping you, ma lumière. I’m not going anywhere.
The message says delivered. I go back to my townhouse and make a sandwich. Drink a beer. Text Ms. Beth to check on my mom. It’s not until hours later, in the early light of dawn, that I see the text has been read, and there’s a response.
Sundance:Okay
I go home for Christmas,but not before dropping off a package at Bailey’s door. I text to let her know it’s there, just a little gift that I snagged for her the night after we won the contest.
She texts me back an hour later. A simple thank you with a picture of my gift sitting on her desk. A small snow globe with a sculpture of the Bean inside. But it’s not the snow globe that makes me smile, that makes my heart stutter in my chest, it’s what is sitting next to it. Two origami stars, the ones I left for her in the hotel, an origami crane made from a Bar 31 napkin, and the floppy origami frog from the 80’s café in Chicago. She kept them all, and that means something. That means everything.
You’re mine, Bailey Elizabeth Barnes.
I’ll be here when you realize it.