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Chapter Three:
He sat and twirled the fat, red mug in front of him letting the almost unbearable heat from its sides warm his hands. What in the hell was he doing? He needed to leave. He needed to forget the coffee, forget the woman, and just run as fast as he could away from whatever was happening.
He still hadn't quite managed to recover from the last time she had walked out of his life. There was no way he'd remain standing this time. He was still too broken. He had done a half-assed job of gluing his parts back together, mostly for appearance's sake to keep his mother and Alexis from continuing those awful, pitying looks. But he still felt like his legs were attached with duct tape, and his eyes blinked only when he yanked the pulley, and his heart was one beat away from shattering once again against the superglue he'd tried to stick it with.
She looked different.
Her hair was a bit darker and a bit longer. Her lips were redder, or so it seemed to him. She looked like she had been carved out of marble by one of the masters. Inconceivably flawless. Hard. Untouchable. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, but for some reason, it almost seemed a cruel beauty. She had been soft before, like a painting of pastels and neutrals. But now he saw her for what she was: a woman who held the tremendous power to completely and utterly break a man.
The bell above the door jingled quietly as some stranger walked in and ordered some combination of pastry and caffeine. The bell was tauntingly cheerful, continuing to ring even after the door had clearly shut.
She clung to his arm and her laughter flooded his ears. She was warm and soft against his side and he pulled her just a little bit closer. The bell above the door heralded their arrival and its tinkling harmony was soon joined by the happy greetings of the bakery owners.
"Katie and Richard! We wondered if you'd be in today! I made a special batch of apple turnovers just for you!"
"Ben,you old softy! You didn't have to do that…But since you did, I'll take two." Kate smiled as she spoke to the old man and her face was a light with a hypnotic threw him a wink and leaned over the counter. "Now tell me…what are the chances Angie will let me steal you away? We can just live some where in the country and eat apple turnovers every day!"
Angie spoke with fervor in reply, "Take him! Please! I'll take that fine looking man you've been dragging around as a trade."
Kate looked over at Rick appraisingly and he attempted to pose for her better assessment.
Smiling slightly and shaking her head, Kate sighed. "No can do, Angie. I think I'll just have to keep this one. He's grown on me."
"Ah, the words every man longs to hear." Rick wrapped his arms around his beautiful woman from behind and began to place dramatic kisses against the ticklish sides of her neck, swaying their bodies back and forth.
"Rick! Stop it!" she commanded half-heartedly through a wholesome laugh.
"Never!"
Their laughter was so strong in his memory that its absence surprised him when he was jolted back to reality by the bells ringing again, announcing the exit of the strange customer. He sighed heavily and took a deep swallow of the still too hot coffee, letting the scalding pain remind him that the happy memories were long gone.
He heard her heels long before he saw her round the corner of the back hall. Bracing himself for her arrival, he shifted in his chair to sit up a bit straighter. Turning to look up at her as she pulled her chair way from the table, his heart broke. He hadn't really thought past the idea of simply getting her warmer. He didn't give her his shirt out of some desperate plea to win her back, it had simply been misplaced chivalry. A need to do something when he felt so helpless otherwise.
But he hadn't thought it through.
She was wearing his shirt and swimming in it. Her scent was probably rubbing off on its collar at that very moment. His mind flashed to countless other times when she had worn one of his shirts, and the memories were a stabbing pain in his heart. What had he been thinking? She was so irresistibly beautiful and now he had no choice but to resist her.
He hated her. He really did.
But he loved her.
He loved the way she fiddled with the too-long sleeves of his shirt. Hated the way her eyes couldn't seem to find a place to rest. Loved the way her hair fell in her face. Hated the way her finger tapped on the table. Loved the way she bit her lip unconsciously. Hated that she had left him. Loved that she had once loved him.
He hated that truthfully he loved every goddamn thing about her and it made this morning that much more painful.
"Better?" he asked because he couldn't let the silence rule over them any longer.
"Yeah. Thanks." She glanced up into his eyes briefly and he was taken aback by how purely green they looked. Usually they were warmly tinted with some honeyed shade of brown, but today it was only a glassy green. He found the reason in the whites of her eyes, which were slightly bloodshot. She'd been crying. That's what had taken her so long to emerge.
It made him feel a little better. At least this wasn't easy on her either.
She handed him his coat and nodded towards him. "Put it on. You're getting cold."
He looked down at his bare arms and noticed the goosebumps there. He didn't really feel that cold. Or maybe he did and all the other emotions were simply taking precedence.
"It's okay. You take it. I'm fine."
She sighed and let the jacket rest on the table. A few beats of silence passed before she spoke up.
"How have you been?"
He almost laughed. How had he been? Wrecked. Heartbroken. Confused. Bitter. Alone. Inconsolable. Dark. Pain. Thunder. Zombie. Lost. How the hell had she thought he'd been?
"I've been good. You?"
She nodded until the words could catch up. "Fine. Yeah, I've been fine."
They both nodded numbly and out of sync.
"You writing anything new?"
"Nothing publishable."
She took a sip of her coffee and avoided his eyes. The awkwardness of the entire situation was almost unbearable. He silently cursed Ben and Angie for giving them mugs instead of to-go cups. It was probably some misplaced effort at playing cupid. There was no fixing this one. They weren't going to just talk it out. She had left. He hadn't followed. End of story.
He looked up once again to find her staring intently at him with an unreadable expression on her face. It looked something akin to guilt, if guilt had the ability to be simultaneously full of longing. Maybe it was regret. He couldn't tell. He could feel his heart starting to beat again and his eyes momentarily moistened. He wasn't crying, but his traitorous eyes seemed to be leaking a physical response to her painful presence.
"I'm so sorry, Rick." She breathed the statement so quietly he barely heard her. Except for the fact that her words were all he could hear and seemed to echo around in his head.
"No. Don't. You don't have to apologize."
"No. Please I want to—"
"Kate, please stop. I get it. I flew too close to the sun."
Her brow furrowed in that adorably confused way and he found himself feeling slightly sick at the sight. He expounded, if only to make that expression leave her face.
"I flew too close to the sun. My wax melted. My wings failed. I fell. You were always too good to be true, Kate. I should have known I wasn't your exception. I should have known. "
"No, that's not what—"
"Really, Kate. It's okay. I'd take the fall a hundred times if it means I also flew. People always forget that Icarus also flew. He's famous for the fall, but I don't think he was failing as he fell. I think he was merely coming to the end of his triumph. You were my triumph, Kate."