Chapter 25

25

LINCOLN

O n the way back from Aly's house, I stopped at the diner. It was four a.m., and the staff was already beginning to arrive. The cook rolled up at 4:15, ready to get the coffee going and the pancake batter out of the fridge. He took pity on me and let me into the dining room.

"Waitress doesn't get here until 4:30."

"That's fine," I said.

"You want some coffee?"

"Yes, please." I took a seat in one of the booths, grateful to get the weight off my leg. The injury was killing me; I had overextended myself by walking so far. Cocky from so many pain-free days walking around the lumberyard, I had thought I could complete a half marathon. It turned out that was wishful thinking. I decided I would stay at the diner until the sun came up and then text someone for a ride.

The cook gave me a cup of coffee to drink while I waited for the restaurant to open. When the waitress arrived, I ordered breakfast and ate it slowly. Everyone who came in gave me sympathetic looks, bordering on intrusive. Without confronting them, I was sure they all knew exactly what had happened. Though they might not have guessed that I walked all the way to her house, they could tell I was consumed with guilt and desperate to make it right.

I texted Danny and asked him to pick me up at the diner. It was Sunday, my day off, but Danny was working. The lumberyard had to stay open seven days a week to make sure that all the contractors and hobbyists were afforded a chance to make their purchases. I didn't think it would be too much of an imposition for Danny to swing by on his way to work.

Sure, he responded.

I ordered a coffee to go, paid, and went to sit outside on the curb.

Danny pulled up a few moments later. "Geez, you look awful. What the hell happened?"

Laughter bubbled up within me and I let it out. "I saw Aly with another guy."

"I'm sorry," Danny sighed. We were almost to Mrs. Washington's house. "She's a great gal. You'll be missing out if you let her get away."

I grabbed my coffee when he pulled up to the curb. "I'm gonna do my best."

"That's the spirit!" He clapped me on the back, his weathered face lighting up.

I slept most of the day and was up most of the night. My leg recovered from the trek to Aly's and back after I did some of the physical therapy exercises I was supposed to have been doing all along. That night, I stayed close to home, walking outside to sit on the curb. I favored water instead of beer and tried to come up with a game plan.

I wanted to woo Aly back, but I had made a mess of things. She hadn't responded to the flowers, and I didn't think my leg was up to another challenge. I called into the local radio station and dedicated a song to her. I didn't know if she even listened to the radio, but some folks around here did. It would get back to her, I was sure.

I picked "I'm Sorry" by Blake Shelton.

"And who is this from?" the DJ asked.

"Linc," I said.

I kept the radio on until I heard my song, and the dedication: "This song goes out to Aly from Linc." A moment later, I got a few texts.

One from Danny said, Good move .

One from Porter read, Nice .

One from Dad went, Glad to see you came to your senses .

The next day was Monday. I asked Danny to stop on the way to work so I could get a fancy coffee at the bakery. I picked up a chocolate croissant while I was at it and hopped back into the truck. On the way to work, I tried unsuccessfully to talk Danny into delivering them for me.

"Look, she doesn't want to talk to me," I argued.

"She doesn't want to talk to me either," Danny said firmly. "Not about your love life."

"Who else am I gonna ask?"

"Porter?" Danny guessed.

I shook my head. Porter would eat me alive and spit out my bones before he would play matchmaker between me and Aly. I would just have to find one of the loaders or the yard guys to deliver Aly's breakfast.

I clocked in and took the coffee and pastry out into the yard. The first guy I came across was Kyle. He was just out of high school and had talked his way into a job as a salesman. He was friendly and had an easy way of upselling the customers to get them to purchase a higher quality wood than they had originally come for.

"Hey, Kyle," I said, holding out my gifts. "Will you run these up to Aly in the office? I have a delivery to make."

"Uh, sure." He took the bag and the cup with a puzzled look, as if about to ask me why I couldn't do it myself.

I turned around and left before he could stop me, walking all the way back to the barn before spying on him. I saw him just as he entered the front door and knew my delivery had made it safely. For the rest of the day, I kept my head down. There was a tiny bit of hope that Aly would come out to find me. Maybe she would decide that flowers and coffee made up for all the heartache that I had caused. It didn't happen. She never showed up.

I went home with Danny, discouraged but not out of the game. He asked me whether I had spoken with her, and I had to admit defeat. "I'm gonna try again tomorrow," I said.

"That's the spirit," Danny cheered. "But just so you know, I'm not taking anything to her tomorrow either."

"I know," I assured him.

The next day, I had lunch delivered to the main office, a fancy Italian place that delivered through Door Dash. It cost a fortune, but it was worth it. I would blow my entire paycheck for as many months as necessary to get back into her good graces. She was worth it.

Again, I wondered if she would come find me to thank me, but again, there was no response. I stowed my feelings of rejection, imagining how Aly had felt when I had betrayed her. No amount of food or gifts was going to replace the trust I had violated. I decided to man up the next day and marched into her office.

She was sitting behind the computer, working. No emotion registered in her eyes as I approached, and I wasn't sure that was a good thing. She wasn't angry or crying, but she wasn't smiling or friendly either. She acted as she had that first day I had seen her after returning from the service, like I had hurt her somehow. Back then, I hadn't known what I had done. Today, I knew damned well.

She looked up briefly and then went back to her task, not saying anything. I took my heart in my hand, summoning up the courage to speak. "I'm sorry, Aly."

"So you said." Her fingers raced across the keyboard, not pausing for even a beat.

"I know there is nothing I can do to take it back." I had a flashback of that morning at the kitchen sink, my cock buried deep inside her. She had been so sweet and inviting back then, ready to do anything to please me. I wanted to find that angel again, to unwrap the pain that had been wound around her heart and set her free. I knew I just had to have patience. She had yet to say anything to make me think that all was lost.

Aly finally set her work aside and looked up at me. "Now is not the time."

"Have dinner with me," I pleaded.

"I don't think so," she answered, going back to work.

"Did you like the Italian?" I asked, not accepting her dismissal.

She actually smiled, even though her focus remained on the computer. "Yes."

"Did I get the order right?"

"It was a big lunch," she admitted. "I had some left over for dinner."

"And the flowers?" I asked.

She turned to me then, all anger discarded in a moment of curiosity. "Did you walk to my house?"

"I did."

"Both ways?"

"It was farther than I thought," I admitted. "I made it to the diner around four in the morning and waited for Danny to pick me up."

She looked down at her keyboard. "How's your leg?"

"It was unhappy, but I didn't care." I answered, daring to hope that this was the beginning of our reconciliation. "It's recovered by now. But I'm not. I miss you."

Her eyes flashed at the reveal of my feelings. "Okay," she said with a sigh.

"Okay?" I repeated, making sure I had heard her right.

"Okay, I'll have dinner with you."

I couldn't help making a fist in celebration, as if I had bowled a strike or won the jackpot. She saw me and smiled again, returning to her work with determination. I allowed myself one more lingering glance. I loved the way her hair swept across her shoulders. I knew the feel of it, bunched up in my hand as I rocked toward a climax inside her. I knew how it looked fanned out on the pillow as she slept.

Taking that image with me, I turned to go, breaking out the front door with triumph in my stride.