Chapter 220:
Words Left Unspoken
Megan’s Point of View:
I watched Chris walk away from my apartment building, standing at the window. I just could not help but think about his words. “I care about you, Megan. More than I expected to.” For really long, more than anybody ever had talked to me about my emotions, and mostly it made me feel naked, yet high on the thrill.
The shrill ring of the phone snapped me out of my reverie. A text from Jane: “How’s everything going? Need any advice on the book?”
I smiled and sent a reply: “We are doing well, thanks. No, thanks, Jane. I will call you later.”.
She had always been my rock, my guiding force. Not this time, though; it was something I needed to navigate on my own. Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply, trying to focus. The book still had loads of work to be done, and personal feelings couldn’t come in the way.
No sooner had I settled back down to my laptop, though, and the doorbell rang again. I paused a moment, feeling my heart give a little skip. Was it Chris? Maybe even Miles trying to make more of a scene?
I opened the door to find Chris standing there, looking distinctly sheepish. “Hey, I forgot my jacket,” he said, gesturing to the garment hanging on the coat rack.
I let out a held breath. “Oh, right. Come in.”
He did, and in, the air was electric. We sifted on such virgin land, not knowing exactly where we stood with each other. Chris shook his jacket and then turned to where I was standing; his eyes scanned mine.
“Megan, there’s something else I wanted to say,” he said, in a voice that was low.
I crossed my arms, bracing myself. “What is it?”
He sucked in a deep breath, his blazing gaze on mine. “I know we said we’d take it one day at a time, but I want you to know that I’m serious about this. About us. I don’t want to just be your ghostwriter or your fake boyfriend. I want to be with you, to be that guy you can trust.”.
My heart thumped against my chest. I had never been here before, neither had he, and that frightened me. “Chris, all of it, it’s new for me. I don’t know how to process this in my head, my heart, at this very moment.”
He nodded, a barely there smile playing on his lips. “I understand. And I am not asking you to decide anything right now. Just… know that I am here. For you.”
My response was lost when his phone rang. He glanced at the screen before blowing out a sigh. “It’s my publisher. I gotta take this.”
“Go ahead,” I told him, waving him off as he left. “We’ll talk later.
He picked up the phone and moved to the door, his voice fading out as the door registered his full weight on the linoleum of the hallway. I closed the door behind him and leaned against it. My feelings were crossed up, and I didn’t know how to sort them out.
I strolled back to my MacBook, trying to steer my brain onto the book. How could thoughts of Chris and the conversation that had happened only minutes ago not reel their way back in? Was I really prepared to open the gates and let him in? Really trust him with my heart? I shook my head again. I didn’t have an inkling. But I was willing to find out.
Later in the evening, as I was rummaging through some old notes, my phone buzzed again. This time, it was an incoming call from Miles. I stared at the screen, wondering if I should let him through. After a few seconds, I pressed the answer button and held the phone up to my ear.
“Miles, what do you want?” I tried keeping my voice steady.
“Megan, please, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but just hear me out,” he pleaded.
I sighed and then pinched the bridge of my nose. “Fine. You’ve got five minutes.”
“Thank you,” he said, relief soaking into the tone of his voice. “I know I really messed up-big time-but I have been doing a lot of thinking, and I realized that I hurt you really bad. I just… I want to have a chance to make things right.”
I closed my eyes, feeling my anger and sadness well up inside me. “Miles, it’s not that easy. You can’t just waltz back into my life and expect everything to go back to normal.”
“I know,” he said, a clear rupture in his voice. “But let me tell you, I’ll do whatever it takes. Please, Megan, let me prove myself to you.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my emotions. “Miles, I don’t ever know that I’ll be able to trust you again. You left me when I needed you most.”
The other end of the line was silent for a long while, before he spoke again. “I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Just…please, don’t shut me out.
I massaged my temples. My head was starting to ache. “I need time to think, Miles. That is all that I can give you right now.”
“I understand,” he said softly. “Thanks for at least listening.”
I hung up the phone, more torn than ever. My emotions were a whirlwind, and I didn’t know what to make of them.
The next morning, feeling the need to shake my head straight, I had found myself in the boxing gym. Very familiar and soothing was the snap of the gloves hitting the bags, the trainers yelling instructions. I began hitting the heavy bag, and with every punch, it seemed that some of the pent-up frustration and confusing wrack insides were being let loose.
“Megan, you really need to focus.” My reverie was broken, and I turned back into reality. Forward, she came, her face blanketted with the concern-determination duo. “What’s wrong?”
I stopped, my fists still up. “It’s everything, Jane. Chris, Miles, the book, the media. .. it’s all just too much.”
She nodded, her eyes softening. “That, I understand. But you cannot let it choke you. You are stronger than that.”
Her words hit where it hurt, and my arms dropped to my sides. “I understand, but it is so hard. I don’t know who to believe and what to believe them about anymore.”
Laying a hand on my shoulder, Jane added, “Believe yourself, Megan. You have great instincts. Use them.”
I nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Jane. I needed that a lot.”
She smiled tightly at me. “Anytime. Now, get back to work. That bag’s not going to hit itself.”
I grinned and resumed punches, feeling a fresh tingle of focus. Maybe Jane was right. Maybe I needed to believe in myself more.
That afternoon, I met Chris in a coffee shop. He looked up from his laptop as I walked in and beamed at me. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I said, slipping into the seat across from him. “I’m so sorry about yesterday. Things got … intense.”
He nodded gravely. “Okay, I understand. Anyway, how are you now? Really?”
I shrugged, stirring my coffee. “Confused. Overwhelmed. But better, I think.”
He reached across the table, taking my hand in his. “You don’t have to do all this alone, Megan. I’m right here for you.”
I squeezed his hand again, feeling some warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Chris. That means so much to me.”
The next couple of hours slid by while we worked on the book. Easy conversation provided a much-needed distraction from the turmoil going on in my life.
Just as we were about to head out the door, Chris came to an abrupt stop. Then, with his eyes full of sincerity trained on mine, he said something that practically made my heart skip a beat. “Megan, yesterday, I meant what I said. I care about you. And I’m willing to wait until you are ready to figure this out.”.
A lump formed in my throat, and the emotions bled over. “Chris, I-I care for you too. But I need time. All of all, to sort everything.”
He nodded. His eyes were warmed with understanding. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.
As I walked into my house, clarity began forming in my mind. It was not much, just a beginning. And maybe, life might make some sense again.
I lay there, staring through the ceiling, my mind racing. The words, unsaid, hung suspended in the air, awaiting their rightful timing to be voiced. But then, I was contented with the silence, knowing sometimes it’s the unspoken words that do the most talking.