I left Dusty's house that night feeling buoyant and energized. I couldn't wait until Saturday. It was only two short days away, but it seemed like it would be an eternity. Dylan was the last thing on my mind. That lasted the drive home before I started to feel guilty. Maybe I had been too hard on him. He had been trying to be friendly, and it would be nice to have a friend, someone to talk to about my other life.
When I got home, I went into my bedroom and lay back on my bed. I reached over to the nightstand and picked up the phone. A few calls later, I had in my possession the phone number of one Nathan Harper. I hesitated before dialing. What if he hated me now? I couldn't blame him if he did; I had been rather hard on him the day we last met. Well, there was only one way to find out, and if he did hate me, I would try my best to apologize and make it up to him. Taking in a sharp breath, my heart pounding, I dialed his number.
After two rings, he picked up. "Hello?"
"Hi, is this Nathan Harper?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Nathan Harper, the artist?" I asked.
"Yes, that's me." he said, suddenly sounding professional.
"Nathan Harper, a.k.a. Dylan Sachiel?"
"Who is this?" he demanded.
"It's me. Michelle. Nerita." I told him.
"Michelle? How did you get my number?"
"I've got some connections." I said with a nervous laugh.
"I thought I'd never hear from you again." he said sadly.
"Oh, Nathan, I'm so sorry about what I said. I know you were just trying to help. It's just a sensitive issue. I hope you're not mad at me."
"Of course not. I understand completely." he said. I gave a sigh of relief. "It's hard for me, too. I should have realized that. I've never, ever been close enough to someone to tell them the truth about myself. I don't know why I expected you to."
"I'm so glad you forgive me. I really do need a friend like you." I told him. "You should come down and have dinner with me sometime."
"I'd like that." he said. "I'm assuming that fish won't be on the menu?" he asked in a mocking tone. I laughed. Same old Dylan.
"Of course not. That would practically be cannibalism." I said.
We wound up talking on the phone for hours that night. The longer we talked, the harder it was to believe I had hated him, the more I realized how much I missed him, the guiltier I felt for treating him so badly. For the first time I began to wonder: what would have happened that night if Dylan had caught up to me and told me the truth? Would we be together right now? It was an intriguing thought. Dylan was just as charming and funny as he'd always been, and once I had gotten past my anger at him, it was easy to slip back into our old relationship.
I knew that love was possible between Dylan and I. However, it was a possibility that I would not pursue. I was with Dusty now, and I loved him very much. What's more, I trusted him. I was sorry for feeling that way, but I knew that no matter how close Dylan and I grew, it would be very hard for me to trust him again.