Indigo Nights (Nights #3)(68)
I managed a half-chuckle. “I’ll call to you in the meeting.”
I hung up, and went straight to the phone on the low table by the sofa and dialed room service. Perhaps eating a lot of sugar would assist me in coming up with a plan to win around Beth, and get my life back.
I’d been in London a little over two weeks, and I had something of a routine now. I got up and went for a run. On my way back through the hotel, I’d place an order for four cakes and desserts to go. Then I’d shower, grab my laptop and head down to collect the patisserie box. This morning, like the last fifteen before them, the doorman flagged me a cab.
A few minutes later, he’d drop me at the café across the street from Beth’s building, where I came every day. I’d not spoken to Beth; I was trying to be patient, but I was having a hard time of it. I missed her. I wanted some kind of reassurance that she’d forgive me, someday.
“An Americano with a chocolate biscotti?” the waitress asked.
“Yes, please.”
Beth left her building around ten every day. The first couple of times I’d seen her from my seat in the café, my heart had pinched as I took in her sad eyes and turned-down mouth. I’d taken joy from her and couldn’t have felt worse about it.
When I was sure she wasn’t coming back, I paid for my coffee and biscotti, then slipped inside her building to deliver my gift. The security guard had taken pity on me, and as long as I made my entrance when no one was looking, he was happy to let me in. I made my way up to her floor, taking in a deep breath in the hope of catching the scent of her hair.
The doors pinged open and I headed left toward her apartment. I set the box down on her welcome mat. The print of a giant pink cupcake on the mat always made me smile. I’d started to wonder if I should be leaving her a note along with the cakes. I didn’t want to push her, but I wanted her to know I was here.
I turned back to the elevator and pressed the down button. Sometimes I went back to the café, but lingering felt increasingly like I was stalking Beth. Today I’d just go back to the hotel. I’d set up a virtual office there, and I had a day of calls that would take me late into the London night.
As the doors to the elevator opened, I came face-to-face with Beth.
She took my breath away. Her smooth, pale skin with the flash of red lipstick contrasted so perfectly with her almost black hair. But there was an unfamiliarity in her eyes that was like a knife to my chest.
We both froze, not knowing what to say or how to react.
“I was just leaving,” I said as the doors started to close. I moved to one side and held them open so she could get off.
She stepped out of the elevator, her eyes firmly on the ground. “I didn’t realize you came each day.”
“You didn’t think the cakes were from me?”
“I thought you’d be in Chicago. I assumed you had them delivered.” Her voice was small as she continued to stare at the ground, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I drank her in, desperate at having spent the last two weeks without her.
“I told you that I wasn’t going until we had a chance to talk. I can’t give up. You mean too much. You’ve become the reason I get up in the mornings.” I took a breath. How could I convince her to give us a second chance? “Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me you can imagine not being together, because when I shut my eyes, all I see in my future is you.”
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t leave either. I wanted to reach out to touch her; I wanted so desperately to feel her skin against mine.
“It’s hard, Dylan. I need to keep my heart safe. I can’t go back to how I was—weak and vulnerable. You know that.”
She didn’t feel her heart was safe with me? I cringed. “I’m so sorry, my sweet. Tell me what to do.”
She lifted her eyes slightly, but she still didn’t look at me. “I don’t have an answer for you. You should be in Chicago. Raf and—”
“I need to be wherever you are.” I reached for her, but she shrank away and turned. “Try to imagine your life when we’re not together. If you can do that, then tell me and I’ll walk away, broken, but I’ll be out of your life forever.”
“Don’t, Dylan. I can’t. Not yet.”
Nausea seeped into every part of my body as she went out of sight. I stumbled into the elevator. I needed to be able to breathe, needed fresh air. What got to me the most was that Beth didn’t sound angry. Her voice was full of sadness. Anger I could have coped with, but that look of disappointment on her face killed me over and over again.
Walking back to the hotel, replaying our encounter in my head, I cringed. What were her words? Don’t, Dylan. I can’t. But there’d been something after that. Not yet. My heart pounded as rain dampened my hair. Not yet implied that there was a future. But for what?
To speak?
To touch?
Jesus, waiting without any promise of resolution was killing me. I was so used to getting what I wanted, when I wanted it. Beth had turned everything on its head for me in every way.
Beth
I looked down at my doorstep to the now-familiar pink-striped patisserie box from the Langham. It had been a little over a week since I’d run into Dylan. How long would the daily deliveries continue? Right or wrong, I enjoyed receiving them. It took the edge off my sadness that he seemed so genuinely sorry.