I'm not sure what to do as a million thoughts
rush over me; memories of his cruel coldness the
night of our intimacy...the look of his eyes
when he saved me...the awe of forgotten
"Braeden." Comes the voice from the other side.
"I need to talk with you...please." He
finishes, his words sounding both bold and
careful at the same time.
After making a muffled sound of nervous tension,
I check my mouth for cookie crumbs and open the
door, my eyes looking cautiously a the man who
stands before me.
"How did you know where I live?" I ask as he
looks into my eyes with a strange hope.
He smiles slightly, holding up his phone as he
answers. "Google." He says, as if that
explains all I need to know. "Hmm" I respond
simply as I look him quickly over. "Well, would
you like some coffee? It's a little too cold
out here for long heart-felt discussions."
I shoot him a sarcastic smile, remnants from
fond childhood memories of long ago. He nods,
quickly accepting my offer as I usher him into
the kitchen where sunlight now sprinkles warmly
through the dark clouds outside.
I put on a pot of coffee as Ian sits down at the
kitchen table, his eyes softly watching me as I
make my way to the chair across from him.
"First of all...Braeden, I wanted you to know
that I had no idea it was you that night...that
night that we..." He pauses as I casually pull
my hair back from my neck, revealing the cut
left behind by the thief. I sit up straight,
finishing his statement with ease. "The night
that I shared myself with you?"
He closes his mouth and looks me in the eyes,
humility washing over his presence at my words.
"Yes." He answers simply.
I wait patiently for him to continue and scuffle
off to retrieve the coffee and the mugs. "And I
know it shouldn't matter either way...I mean
that it shouldn't matter if i had known who you
were or not...the way I acted..." He continues.
I sit down, handing him a cup of coffee as he
locks eyes with me once again. "The way I
treated you, Braeden, was horrific...and I have
regretted it each and every day since."
His eyes hold volumes as he removes his glove,
his warm fingers reaching over for my hand; I