“I know you think I’m crazy for following you here, but if I could just have your first name it would really put my mind at ease. A name with your face will make my entire night, and then I swear I will leave you alone.” He held his hands up in an innocent way before dropping them gradually.
Releasing the door, I walked his direction with my arms crossed. “My name? You sure that’s all you want, crazy man?”
He nodded, smiling. “That’s all I want, strange girl.”
I bit into my bottom lip, taking a look around the parking lot before meeting his sparkling blue irises again. “Alright. It’s Shannon.”
“Ehh,” his nose scrunched up, “I think I like Strange Girl better.”
I giggled, and it was natural and it felt amazing. I hadn’t laughed so naturally in so long. He was teasing me, joking around. It was cute. Still corny, but cute. “Take it or leave it, bucko.”
“Well, I’m Jonathan Streeter. I go by John.” He extended his arm, his hand held out for me to shake.
I reached forward and shook it firmly. “It’s nice to know the name of the man who saved my Punch Buggy. I don’t have a name for my car but maybe I’ll start calling it Streeter now.”
“That’s hilarious. You should try and get a new one, though. Doesn’t seem like Streeter back there will last you much longer. Eventually it’ll be more than just a tire that needs fixing.”
“Yeah, well,” I sighed, raking my fingers through my hair, “I’m working on that. Hence the reason I’m about to walk into this bar.”
“Hmm.” He made a noise, his face inquisitive, almost like he had an idea but didn’t want to say it out loud. I wasn’t going to make him. He was probably thinking up cornier things to say.
Silence fell between us and, seconds later, when I looked up, he was already looking at me, his gaze soft. Beneath the streetlights I could really see him. There was so much damage in his eyes. Pain lied deep within them, but he did his best to cover it up. Don’t get me wrong, his eyes were beautiful but I knew pain. I knew hurt. I could spot it in a person from a mile away.
Other than the sadness there, he was breathtaking. I wanted to hold him, tell him that whatever it was that was bothering him, it would be okay. I, of all people, knew how hard life could be.
In that moment, I realized we had a lot in common. John Streeter wasn’t just some random guy that changed a helpless girl’s tire. We may have met accidentally but there had to be a greater reason behind it. I’m a firm believer that everyone who comes into your life is there for a reason. Back then, I didn’t know what John’s reason would be for coming into my life, but I wanted to find out, so I invited John into the club for a few drinks. The first one was on me.
He was free the rest of the night, so I did my best to make sure he had a good time and he had even offered me a spare black T-shirt to wear that he had in his car. I’d knotted it in the back to have a feminine appeal, but my jeans were still a little wet.
He was okay with chatting with me over the bar, bantering with me, laughing about how I thought he was coming back to kill me with a handful of tools and even how he soaked me with a random ass puddle and his car tires.
He was okay being around me and, while he was, I saw some of that sadness slowly fading from his eyes.
I saw light. Joy. I assumed that was rare for him. I wanted to keep it that way. From that moment forward, John Streeter was no longer just a stranger. He’d become a friend. Then a best friend. And then a boyfriend. And finally, my husband.
I had no clue while at the bar that night that he would be the love of my life and the man I ended up marrying.
A great man, he is. God, I still can’t believe he’s mine. Of course, our relationship wasn’t always steady, nor was it easy.
We faced challenges, him with his job and not being able to spend as much time with me until later at night, and me with my past—the past I never settled or came to terms with.
Max was still in my heart though, and we still kept in touch here and there. It was hard to completely cut him off—get rid of him—but with John, it became a little easier to not think about him every day. Eventually, I stopped thinking about him all together, dedicating my heart and mind to John.