Just Like That

Part 13

"That's fine! I can make plans. See some friends," you had assured him.

"That's a wonderful idea!" Tom added cheerfully. Wasn't it a lovely day? Getting back to being around people and not computer screens, talking to the woman he was quite sure he was falling in love with—it was a perfect day! It had honestly never occurred to Tom that you would be bothered by missing an evening spent talking to him. It wasn't as though he could actually take you out on a proper date. Yes, he was excited to be working, but he also felt as though he was saving you from an evening of being tied down to a phone with only him to speak to...

"I haven't seen David in a bit. We usually have dinner once every few months. It's about that time," you had added so incredibly calm. At the mention of that name, his stomach dropped.

"Sorry—what was that? You said you're getting dinner with who?" Of course he knew the man's name.It had been seared into his brain when you first brought him up. While neither of you got into specifics about the past, you had mentioned how your job had brought you out of the darkest moments of your life. Those darkest moments came, primarily, at David's hands. Figuratively and literally, if Tom had to wager. Pure speculation, based on a few comments you had made...

"I said I should phone up David," and it was as though you were screaming his name. How many times prior had you screamed his name?

"Your ex, David?" he clarified, covering his ear to make quite sure he was correct in his assumption.

"My friend, David. We like to keep in touch." Touch. How many times had he touched you? How often did you think of his touch?

How often did you send him pictures of your witty t-shirts and ask him to take it off of you?

"Yes. Right. Very well." Tom remained short and got off the phone as quickly as humanly possible. How could he handle staying on the line, only to be reminded that he was not the one taking you out? A man who had wasted away his chance with you had the opportunity to soak in your presence... Did he have any right to tell you otherwise? Of course not. Did that mean he had to be happy about it? Certainly not.

Dropping his phone into his jacket pocket, he gripped at his hands, nearly pleading for the shaking to stop. You were going to see him... Perhaps you already had in the duration of your chats with Tom. Was that why you were so insistent on him going to bed early? So you could continue your ongoing conversations with David? Any form of logic or sense was gone in these moments, when red clouded his judgement.

"Tom! We need you over on set with Sophia," a crew member called out as it appeared the lighting had been properly adjusted for the pair's interview. Granted, it still had some aspects of a virtual interview, but at least he wasn't creating some makeshift studio out of his study. He craved solitude in this particular moment. The irony was not lost on him, after all of this time wishing to be near people and now all he wanted was to be alone. To go for a run. To have a drink. To go for another run.

"Right," forcing a smile as his answer was kept brief. He really did turn into Mr. Darcy when he was angry. At least, up until a point...

He hated feeling out of control. Despised it with every fiber of his being. He couldn't call you up and tell you not to go out with your ex. He couldn't announce his desire to take you out. He couldn't admit that he had dreamed of caressing your cheek as you slowly drifted to sleep. He couldn't tell you that he imagined waking you up in the most delicious of ways... You barely could handle it when he gave you a simple compliment. How would you react to all of that? How would you react to his painful honesty? His feelings were powerful—and obviously, not reciprocated.