Page 75 of Wrapped in Hope

Chapter 27

Leavingher alone in my apartment with nothing but a note killed me. Leaving Hope that day took a part of me I thought I’d die without. But as much as it hurt me, I prayed she would forgive me.

For the first week, I did nothing but drink. I needed time to think everything over. I stayed drunk all hours of the day, only stopping to sleep. When I woke up, the bottle is what I reached for.

After that week, I contacted Jack and asked him to take care of the shop and my apartment for me. I only came back to go to her graduation. I stayed in the back so she wouldn’t see me, but I had a moment of weakness and wanted to see her, feel her, tell her how much I loved her.

At the last second, I changed my mind. She would never get over me if she thought there was a chance I would keep coming back. But she saw me. Our eyes locked with a hundred people between us. When someone bumped into her, pulling her eyes away from mine, I took my chance and walked away from her for the last time. Or I thought it was anyway.

After a couple of months of doing nothing but running from the truth, I came home. I began working at the shop again. I ate and slept, but I wasn’t alive. You can’t be alive if your heart is out walking the world without you.

Two years, three weeks, and six days is all I could take of living without her. I didn’t know where she was or if she would want to see me, but I had to try even though I hated myself for it.

I used Jack’s phone and looked her up on some social media site. I’m not big on sending a bunch of strangers pictures of my dinner and selfies — fuck selfies.

I found her profile and found out she was living in New York. I gave Jack his phone back, asked him to take care of the shop, and packed my bags.

I moved to the city and waited. I walked the streets every day, hoping to run into her, but the city was too big. The longer I stayed in New York, the more it held onto me. I grew to love the noise and busyness of it all. It was never quiet and that helped to drown out the loneliness.

I thought a lot about what I could do here. All I’ve ever done is build bikes and run my business. I thought about all the custom bikes I had built over the years and it clicked. I found a building and expanded my business. But instead of just being a shop that does repairs, I build and sell custom made bikes. Jack still runs the old shop for me and he took over my apartment, leaving me with nothing to worry about except for what I’m doing here. Having her in my arms again makes me feel whole, and I haven’t felt this way in years.

Her head pops off my chest quickly. “What time is it?”

I look at my watch. “It’s going on seven. Why? Do you have somewhere to be?”

She jumps up and starts pulling on clothes. “Yes. I’m going to be late.”

I stand and pull my clothes on as well. “I have my Jeep here. I can give you a ride. It would be quicker than finding a cab.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

We both finish getting dressed and rush out the door. She instructs me to drive to Manhattan, and then gives me directions to a small building with a glass store front.

“What is this place?” I ask as I park the Jeep and follow her out.

She reaches for my hand, that I put in hers, as she smiles back at me. “You’ll see,” she says as she walks past a line of people waiting to get into the shop she’s leading me to.

We walk in and the man that I thought she was seeing rushes up to us. “It’s about time. I thought I was going to have to open the doors without you!”

I don’t pay any attention to what they say because my eyes are glued to the walls that are home to an amazing photography collection. I let go of her hand as I casually walk through, looking at each of them.

I knew she loved taking pictures, but I never knew she was so gifted. There are pictures of beautiful scenery, some I recognize from the hike we took all those years ago. I look at each and every one, but my feet stop moving when I come across one of me. I’m on my bike, arms outstretched holding onto the handle bars, and I’m looking over my shoulder. Based on the smile on my face, I’m looking at her. The picture is a sepia color, causing it to appear older than it is, making me almost look like a matured version of James Dean. I laugh at the thought.

I think back on when she could have taken it, but nothing crosses my mind.

“I took that picture before I left for college. Do you remember that?” she ask, walking up behind me.

I spin around to face her. “No. I don’t even remember seeing you before you left.”

One corner of her mouth lifts with a crooked smile.

“I was outside, taking pictures of my parents loading up my belongings to take me to college, and you were leaving your house. You saw us outside, loading down the car and you backed up the bike. You told me good luck and not to stop seeking what I was looking for. Before you took off, you smiled and I snapped this picture.”

I shake my head. “I remember that now. I remember you were wearing this short pair of cut-off shorts. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head when you turned around and I saw it was you. I had always felt a pull toward you. I had checked you out several times over the years, but I knew you were forbidden. I thought I didn’t have a chance with an angel like you.”

She closes the distance between us. “If we’re being honest, that first day we went to the gym. I came home and touched myself while I was in the bathtub. I imagined it was your hand working me over instead of mine.” Her confession has me hard as a rock.

She presses herself to my chest, trailing her hand over my almost painful erection as her mouth moves to mine.