Unforgiven(82)

“I hope they will,” I admit honestly. I leave his office, shutting the door behind me. Mike stands in the hall just outside my cube entrance, waiting for me. I glide down the hallway, happy that the burden of talking to Rob is over and went better than I anticipated. Every day, a little weight I’ve been carrying seems suddenly to lift.
“How’d it go?” Mike asks reluctantly as I duck into my cube.
“Actually, really good. He was great.”
“Told you,” he smirks.
“You’re just like my brother… you always have to be right,” I joke with him. I take a box from the floor and set it on my desk, filling it with the two picture frames I have sitting on my desk and a few notebooks. My bottom drawer holds a make-up bag and four pairs of shoes that I always kept at the office as “back-up.” I shove all of that into the box and fold the flaps of the box, securing the top.
“That’s it?” Mike asks.
I let out a little chuckle. “That’s it. I hardly had time to settle in.”
“Well, if I find anything else, I’ll ship it with all your other boxes.”
I sit in my desk chair and swing the chair from side to side slowly. “What did I do to deserve such a good friend?” I ask Mike seriously.
“Good people attract good people, Lindsay. What can I say? We’re the best,” he smirks.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too, Lindsay.” I push myself up out of my desk chair and Mike picks up my box. “When are you headed back to North Carolina?” he asks.
“Friday morning. I’m headed to Orange County tomorrow to see my friend, Jess.” Mike sets the box down at his desk and walks me to the front reception area of the TV station.
“Give me a hug,” he says, pulling me to him. He wraps his arms around me and gives me a good squeeze. “Let me know you’ve made it back, okay?”
“I will.” My throat tightens and I get a little teary saying goodbye to Mike. “Send my love to Javier,” I say, my voice cracking.
“Will do,” he says, releasing me from his hug. I pull the sunglasses from the top of my head down and put them on. I fake a smile and blow a kiss to Mike as I step out the front doors of the TV station. The walk back to my condo is quick; the office was only five or six blocks away, but I never walked it, I always drove. Today, I take my time returning to the condo, even though the late morning sun burns hot on my face. I notice the little shops and restaurants that I always drove right past, and a small boutique with trendy clothes and jewelry. I stop inside and purchase a necklace for Jess, a peace offering.
By the time I make it back to my condo, the hallway is clear, which means Jonah must safely be inside his. The hall is clear of Jonah, yet the smell of stale booze and cigarettes still hangs in the air. Rather than prolong the inevitable, I knock on his door and wait for him to answer. When he doesn’t answer, I knock again and wait. This time, the door opens slowly and Jonah stands in a pair of sweat pants and nothing else. His chest is bare and his hair is messy. I’ve obviously woken him up.
“I can come back later,” I say, taking a step backwards.
“No. Come in,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.” I inhale sharply when I step through the door and into his condo. His kitchen is a disaster; every countertop surface is covered in liquor bottles, beer cans, and cups half full of god only knows what. My shoes cling to the sticky wood floor as I walk through the living room.
“Sorry about the mess,” he says with a little laugh. “When did you get back?” he asks as he motions for me to take a seat on his black leather sofa. I eye the couch suspiciously, choosing to remain standing.
“Yesterday. I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“For good?”
“Yeah. I took a job back in Wilmington,” I say quietly. We stand in awkward silence as we take in the sight of each other. Under clear and sober eyes, Jonah looks so much younger than I remember. His hair has grown out and patches of facial hair are growing along his jawline. I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot as I ponder the right words to use for what I have to say.
“Jonah, what happened with us…” He sighs loudly and laces his fingers behind his head, his tan chest and muscular stomach on full display right in front of me. “It should never have happened.”
“It wasn’t just a one-night thing for me,” he says quietly.
“I don’t know how to say this without upsetting you, so bear with me. Jonah, you’ve been a great friend to me, but my heart belongs to someone else. What happened with us wasn’t love for me.”