“What did she say?”

“She said it was my decision to make.”

“She didn’t say it was too soon? That we were making a mistake?” I asked, admitting my own fears.

“I know you think it’s fast, but by summer you’ll feel differently,” he reassured me, patting my leg.

“How can you be so sure?” I asked. I already had butterflies filling my belly and it was months away.

“Because, after the last few weeks together, I know I want that all the time. I like having you with me.”

“What if you get sick of me? What if I get sick of you?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge if it happens. Have you gotten sick of me these past few weeks?”

“Well, no, but that’s because we’re like in the honeymoon stage,” I answered, regretting my words instantly.

“Honeymoon? Who’s rushing things now?” he teased.

“You know what I mean.”

“Trust me. It’ll be okay,” he said, pulling into a parking garage. “We have to hike a little to get there, but parking near the restaurant is almost nonexistent. This parking garage is as close as we will get.”

“That’s fine,” I answered, looking down at my delicate heels. They looked cute, but walking in them more than a few steps would turn them into medieval torture devices.

Justin offered me his arm as we left the garage and headed across the street.

“You okay?” he asked as I stumbled for the third time in less than two minutes.

“Yeah, except these damn heels hate me,” I said, glaring down at the traitors on my feet.

“Can you make it? The restaurant is less than a block away.”

“Sure. I may have to murder the maker of these shoes, but I’ll make it. As long as you promise to visit me in prison, we’re good to go. Of course, I’m sure some butch chick will make me her bitch within the first day.”

“Homicide of uncomfortable shoemakers is accepted, not that I wouldn’t be interested in seeing you with another girl,” he teased.

“You’re such a guy,” I said, swinging at him with my hand. I almost biffed it for the fourth time. It seemed the heels wouldn’t be satisfied until I was a smear on the pavement.

“Here we are,” he chuckled, stopping in front of the restaurant.

“Pink Door? Oh yeah, I’ve heard of this place.”

“Live music, romance. It’s the perfect destination for a New Year’s Eve date,” he said, guiding me into the restaurant.

We stepped inside and the first thing I saw was a woman swinging from a trapeze hanging from the ceiling. There was light jazz music coming from a band onstage. Taking in my surroundings, I was glad I had gone the extra distance on my appearance. Everyone seemed to be dressed to the nines to celebrate the evening.

Justin approached the hostess, who found our reservation and signaled another girl to show us to our table.

“This is amazing,” I commented, removing my jacket and placing it on the back of my chair.

“A buddy of mine came here a couple months ago for his girlfriend’s birthday. He said the food is really good.”

His friend’s assessment proved to be an understatement. Every dish that was brought out seemed to top the one before it. The ambiance of the restaurant was just as intoxicating. The interior was cute and chic. I felt like I was in a bistro in Paris or something.

“That was incredible,” I said as we slowly strolled back to the parking garage. Slow being the key word since my shoes weren’t done tormenting me. By the time we made it to the jeep, I was cursing my shoes with every step.

Justin was chuckling as he helped tuck me into the jeep before climbing in himself.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, pulling off my shoes to rub my sore feet.

“You. Your temper is downright cute. I’m not even sure a frat boy cusses as much as you just did.”

“Sorry, swearing is my downfall. I try to curb it, but when my body parts are screaming in agony, it gets the best of me.”

“No apologies necessary. I admire the fact that you were able to make it as far as you did,” he said, pulling in front of the art gallery at UW where I had first agreed to go out with him. “We’re here.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You missed school so much you had to return during break?”

“It’s all part of the evening’s festivities,” he said, climbing from the vehicle and coming to my side. “Here, put your arms around my neck.”

Following his orders, I placed my arms around his neck as he swooped me into his arms.

“Wait, you can’t carry me. I’m too heavy,” I protested as he carried me effortlessly to the front of the building.

“Seriously? You weigh nothing,” he said, pulling me tightly against his chest as he unlocked the front door of the building with a set of keys he pulled from his suit pocket. “Now, the wooden planks I use for my artwork, they’re heavy,” he stated, placing me down once we were inside the building.

“Are we going to get in trouble for being in here?” I whispered.

“Mr. Smith knows I’m here. That’s how I got these,” he said, dangling the keys.

“If you say so. I feel I should point out that it would be a huge bummer if I got kicked out of UW and had to return home with my head hung in shame,” I pointed out.

“Never fear, it’s all cool. Trust me.”

“Said the fox to the hen,” I mumbled. I trailed behind him toward the only source of light on the far side of the large room.

He laughed and linked his fingers through mine. We were still ten feet or so away when the painting on the wall came into focus. The familiar face staring back at me stopped me in my tracks. Stepping closer, I studied the painting intently. It was me, but it wasn’t. It was far too beautiful to be me. I mean, I felt I was cute, but never beautiful, not like this. Justin had taken every feature about myself that I saw as a flaw and somehow made them appear beautiful, almost exotic.

“How?” I whispered, tracing a finger over the image as I fought to keep my tears at bay.

“I did the outline the day we went to the aquarium. You were so beautiful seeing the fish for the first time. You took my breath away. I wasn’t sure I would be able to capture it.”

“This is how you saw me?” I whispered.

“This is how I see you. This is how everyone sees you. I’m not sure where this low self-image you have came from, but trust me. You are the only one who sees it,” he clarified, turning me to face him. “I love you, Brittni.”

“What? Wait. You love me?”

“I love you,” he said, crushing his lips to mine. He loved me. He thought I was beautiful. Me. He loved me.

“I love you too,” I said as the truth roared from me like a freight train. I wasn’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way he had captured my heart.

23.

Present Day

3:27 PM

“I hate that your touch still affects me,” Justin admitted after a few minutes had passed.

“Join the club. It’s not like I’m doing cartwheels here,” I muttered, slowly picking up the cards we had dropped.

“You don’t seem to understand what I’m going through here.”

“What you’re going through?” I shook my head at his arrogance. “You think you somehow hold the market on hate?”

“You have no reason to hate me,” he said, shaking with barely suppressed rage.

“Really? What about the fact that you left me and refused to listen? That you never considered my feelings or how hard it was on me. I hate to break it to you, but you betrayed me long before I betrayed you. So get off your high horse. Contrary to what you believe, the world does not revolve around you.”

“I did not cheat on you with Shelly,” he said, jumping to his feet so he could pace again. “I told you that.”

“I’m not talking about cheating.”

“Then what do you mean?” he yelled.

I cringed as his voice vibrated off every corner of the small enclosed space.

“I’m talking about my heart,” I said, surging to my feet. I stood directly in front of him with rage cloaking us like a blanket. “You betrayed my heart. You left me broken and alone in front of everyone,” I added, jabbing him in the chest with my finger. “You left me alone holding all the shattered pieces,” I whispered as the dam holding my sobs at bay finally crumbled.

24.

February 2011

“Brittni, you’re going to be late,” Melissa said, nudging my shoulder.

“What?” I said groggily, squinting in the bright daylight streaming through the window above our desks.

“I said you’re going to be late. Don’t you have biology at ten?” she asked, pulling on her jacket while she crammed her feet into the cute pair of flats she had gotten for Christmas.

“Yeah,” I answered, placing the pillow over my eyes to block out the unwanted light.

“Well, unless you get your ass in gear, you’re going to miss it.”

“What time is it?” I mumbled. My heavy eyes tried enticing me to stay in my nice comfortable bed for the rest of the day.

“It’s nine forty-five. Unless you’re skipping for the second time this week, you have to get up now,” she said, pulling the pillow off my face.

“Nine forty-five?” I repeated, trying to make sense of the time in my head, which seemed to be in permanent foggy mode lately.

“Yes, so get up,” she said, grabbing her shoulder bag.

“Yes, Mom,” I snipped, dragging my legs around so I was sitting up. The room spun slightly, making me feel queasy.

“Are you okay?” Melissa asked with her hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah, just a little light-headed. I didn’t eat much yesterday. I think I have a dumb stomach bug,” I mumbled.

“Maybe you should stay in bed. You look like hell,” Melissa replied, looking concerned.

“Thanks for the compliment. Philips would have my head. We’re covering mitosis phases versus meiosis phases this week. She’s hinted that they’ll be important facts to know for the midterm.” I struggled to pull on my favorite yoga pants at the same time that I was yanking my UW hooded sweatshirt over my head.

“Yeah, but if you’re sick,” Melissa said, taking in my lethargic movements.

“I’ll be fine. Once I finish biology, I’ll come back here and go to bed,” I said as I shoved my hair into a clip to secure it.

“Don’t you have a date with Justin tonight?”

“No, he’s studying with some guys from his humanities class tonight. His teacher is being a complete asshat,” I said, grabbing my bag and following her out of the room.

“I’ve heard horror stories about that guy. Thank God we steered clear of him,” Melissa said before we parted ways. “Make sure you go back to bed after class,” she added sternly.

“Yes, Mom,” I teased, feeling slightly better now that I was moving around.

“Good girl, and if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll bring you some soup tonight.”

“From Mia’s Diner?” I asked hopefully.

“You’ll have to wait and see. Now go before you make both of us late,” she said, shooing me off.

Heeding her warning, I increased my pace, although my body wasn’t happy about it, but at least I reached biology with two minutes to spare. Five minutes later, I was wishing I’d just stayed in bed. To add insult to injury, I discovered that Professor Philips wouldn’t be teaching today when one of the research assistants who had previously covered her class came strolling in. The worst part was he had a heavy foreign accent that no one seemed to be able to understand. You could hear multiple grumbles throughout the room as he hooked up his laptop to the overhead screen at the front of the classroom. The best you could do was write down as much information as possible from his PowerPoint presentation and hope that Professor Philips would cover the topic again on another day. I did my best to keep up, but the minutes trickled by at an alarmingly slow rate as I imagined my warm bed back in my room.

“What a joke,” Stan, one of my friends, said as we walked out of the building together after class. “I know he’s speaking English, but I’ll be damned if I understood five words of what he said in there.”

“Tell me about it,” I said. “I got ‘Hello, class,’ but everything after that sounded like gibberish.”

“Do you want to go grab some coffee? I have an inordinate amount of time left before my next class.”

“Can’t. I think I’m fighting off some kind of bug. It was all I could do to drag my ass out of bed for this joke of a class.”

“That sucks. I hope you feel better,” he said, backing away before he could catch any of my germs.

I told him thanks, although I was tempted to lick his face or something, the big baby. The walk back to my dorm seemed endless as the last of my energy surplus melted away. By the time I stumbled back to my room, I didn’t even bother to remove my clothes. Before I succumbed to sleep, I sent Justin a text telling him I was sick and that I would call him later when I woke. He replied quickly, telling me to rest and drink plenty of fluids.

Later turned into the next morning as I woke up after nearly twenty hours of sleep. I felt marginally better and relieved that the queasy stomach that had been plaguing me for the last week or so seemed to have disappeared.

“Look who’s finally awake,” Melissa said, placing a hand on my forehead. “How do you feel?”

“A little better. My stomach isn’t as bad.” I checked my phone to see several text messages and missed calls from Justin.

“I already told him you weren’t feeling well and that you were crashing,” Melissa said when she saw my reaction to my phone.

“Thanks. I’ll call him in a few minutes. I need to get moving.”

Tuesdays and Thursdays were the two days that I worked at the daycare since I had no classes. Melissa tried to talk me into calling in sick so I wouldn’t expose the kids to my germs.

“How do you think I got those germs?” I pointed out, pulling on my last clean pair of pants, which happened to be another pair of yoga pants. I badly needed a trip to the laundry.

“I guess you’re right. Maybe that’s why you’ve been so sickly these last few weeks.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s days, not weeks,” I chastised, pulling on my boots.