Dear Heart, I Hate You

With a determined breath, I got out of my car and went to work.

• • •

Pulling into my assigned parking space after work, I noticed Cal immediately. His large frame was hunched over as he sat on the staircase leading up to my apartment, a bouquet of red roses and a familiar-looking box at his side.

I could have called security or the management company and had him escorted off the property since it was a private, gated complex, but I didn’t. Part of me didn’t want him to leave. In fact, my ego actually perked up a little at the knowledge that he was here for me. It wanted that, reveled in it.

Plus, today had been a good day at the office. I’d sold a beachfront condo and gained two new clients in the course of the afternoon through referrals, so my mood had lifted.

Cal pushed to his feet and picked up his things as I turned off the engine and opened the door, his strides toward me quick and purposeful. He approached me with the enormous flower arrangement in his arms as he balanced it with the box.

“Why are you still here?” I asked, hoping I sounded indifferent, when I was anything but. I was filled with feelings, with emotions that had no name.

“I waited. This is for you.” He handed me the box.

It was a dirty move, bringing me a pie from the diner when I was still so angry at him. Refusing to even look at it, I set it on the hood of my car.

“And these.” He handed me the bouquet of roses.

I reached for them but didn’t smell them, even though I wanted to bring them to my nose and breathe them in. I let them fall to my side as if they were the least interesting thing that had been given to me all day. Truth be told, they were ridiculously gorgeous, some of the biggest, deepest red roses I’d ever laid eyes on, but I refused to admit that. I refused a lot of things when it came to Cal right now.

“Thanks for these. So, why did you wait for me?”

I studied him, noting that his hazel eyes looked tired. My heart begged me to jump into his arms, to pull him upstairs and fall into him the way I had so easily in the beginning. But I had to fight against my stupid heart, because giving in to him without a single thought was what had gotten me into trouble in the first place.

Cal’s gaze burned into me. “I wanted to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”

I considered saying no, telling him to pound sand as I locked him out of my apartment and my life. But if I did, I’d only be putting off the inevitable. Cal had flown all the way here for a reason. I couldn’t imagine that he’d walk away so easily this time.

“So talk,” I said as I placed the roses on top of the pie box.

“Can I come up?”

I folded my arms across my chest, refusing to move as I leaned back against my car. I couldn’t give him any ground. If I gave him an inch, I’d give in entirely, and I had to at least attempt to make him suffer for all the pain he’d caused me.

After all, the man had hurt me without reason. Disappeared without a trace. His silence had been so deafening, so soul-gutting in its loudness. His quiet had been louder than any words he’d ever spoken.

“No,” I said firmly. “We can talk right here.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly uncomfortable.

Good.

“Okay. We’ll talk here,” he said as he looked around.

I waited for him to say something, still half in disbelief that he was standing right in front of me after all this time. He looked so damn good and I hated him for that, but couldn’t really blame myself for thinking it. Being attracted to Cal had never been the issue.

“I fucked up, Jules. Worse than I’ve ever fucked up before.” His hand ran through his hair and my eyes were instantly drawn there, focused on the way the strands formed into messy spikes.

In that moment, I wanted answers more than anything. My need for them came rushing back despite the fact that I’d stuffed them away and tried to convince myself that they no longer mattered. Why not get closure if he was offering it?

“Just tell me why you did it,” I said. “Why’d you stop talking to me? Aren’t we too old for that type of shit?”

Cal spread his feet a little further apart and stuffed one hand firmly in his pocket. “I thought I was doing us both a favor,” he said with a deep sigh before looking me dead in the eyes.

“A favor?” I snorted out a disbelieving laugh. “What kind of favor could you possibly be doing for us?”

Oh, hell no. Not only was he confusing me, he was started to piss me off.