Predestined Hearts

I hit Answer.

“Hello, Harris.”

“It’s about damn time you stopped being so stubborn and talked to me. Why the hell does Amelia need to come get all of your clothes?” His tone was cold and only reaffirmed my decision. I can’t believe I stayed miserable for so long through the last year.

Squeezing the bridge of my nose, I replied, “Harris, I’m not taking any of the gowns or jewelry you got me. I only need my clothes. Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be.”

Astounded, he asked, “You aren’t coming back to New York?”

“No, not right now. I’m about to start working. I still have Aunt Leelyn’s house to go through, then I don’t know what I’ll do. I figure we’ll need to work with your PR team on how you want to announce our breakup.”

It sounded like a chair pushed back from the other end. “Why haven’t you called since your bags were delivered? I gave specific instructions for you to read my note and call me. Are you seeing anyone, Ashlin?”

I rolled my eyes at his commands. It was evident he tried to hold back his full on ice mode he adopted. Wanting to keep things decent between us, I only answered the last question, even though, honestly, it wasn’t his business anymore. “No, I’ve been working and cleaning.”

He gave a tired sigh like he used to do when he wanted to spend time together and something kept us apart. This was what I had hated about being with him. The ambiguity. Most of the time, I felt whiplashed about our relationship, which wasn’t a good thing. “Okay, I’ll have some of your stuff properly packed and overnighted to you. No need for Amelia to come by.”

“I’ll pay you whatever it costs you to send.” I hated having to spend money on someone else packing my stuff, but at this point I wanted my clothes.

Harris took a deep breath. “Don’t be ridiculous. You do need clothes while you’re there, temporarily. I’ll get it done. Call me tomorrow when you get them.”

Instead of arguing, I took the high road. At times, I thought I would have better success arguing with a fence post.

“Thank you, Harris. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

We hung up and I relaxed back into my chair. If we were able to be this civil through the transition of the breakup, that would be a good thing. But, I wasn’t naïve and didn’t think Harris had finished playing this hand.

By the sheer fact of him sending only some of my clothes, he was going to make this hard. Brushing all those thoughts aside, I turned my focus to my web design. I’d take a break at lunch to start reading another journal entry.

I had spent the last hour talking to Amelia about what an incredible time she and Steven had on their honeymoon in Barbados. The day was beautiful as I walked the few blocks down to Oglethorpe Park for lunch. A light breeze blew. One of my favorite things about Savannah was the moss that hung from the trees. It gave off that old-timey feel around all the modernization that tried to choke out the historical roots of my beloved city.

Entering the park, I heard birds singing. The heat in Savannah could be brutal and I think we welcomed the milder weather. It was refreshing and renewing. I found a bench in front of one of the paths. I had brought a ham sandwich and water to eat lunch there. As I ate, I imaged Sophia sitting on this very park bench listening to her mom prattle about money. The oppression Sophia must have felt, not being able to be true to the person she was, had to have been suffocating.

Thinking about being trapped in a marriage to Harris would have smothered the light out of my soul. I know it would have been a slow death. But then to feel that spark, that energy with someone was exhilarating—to know there was someone who could stoke the fire of your very being was intoxicating. My thoughts automatically turned to Gael. I didn’t even know his last name, but that same feeling that Sophia had written about had coursed through my veins.

My mind told me that it was because it was the first time I had been free from my self-induced relationship cage. However, my heart said that wasn’t the case. What did my heart know? It had led me astray the last time I tried to trust it with Harris. Clearing my head from any of those thoughts, I dug Sophia’s journal out of my satchel.

As I was opening the journal, a shadow loomed over me and I looked up. It was the man I had been thinking about not two seconds ago. Goose bumps formed on my arms and I was thankful that I had on a long sleeve T-shirt.

“Hey there.” Gael’s mouth turned

upward as he gazed at me in his running clothes.

I smiled back. “Hey there.”

“Are you stalking me for that recipe?” Gael’s voice was deep and slightly out of breath. His shirt clung to him and I could see the faint outline of abs. I shifted in my seat and tried to look at Gael’s face instead.

I would not look at how his running shorts hung off his hips. Nope. And I would not imagine what it would be like to see him shirtless. Nope. And I definitely would not think of thoughts about how incredibly manly he looked. Nope.

Shit, I am in trouble if I can’t get my thoughts together.

Clearing my throat, I tried to break this crazy electric charge that was happening. “Maybe you’re stalking me because you want that ring.” Quirking my eyebrow, I hoped that it hid how insanely attracted I was to Gael.

He chuckled and the vibrations did something to me. I knew we had chemistry the night before, but seeing him like this, out in the open, slightly sweaty, was a new level of hot. I noticed he had a sweatshirt in his hand. Before he sat, he put it on and nodded to my hands. “Is that the journal you were talking about yesterday?”

My throat bobbed as I gulped. While he had been putting on his shirt, I’d seen a sliver of his chiseled abdomen.