Love Isn't as Easy as the Books

Part 9

That weekend, that night in particular, was on both of their minds as the week dragged its feet slowly into the weekend. They had a coffee meeting, Becky hesitated when it came to calling it a date since Freen didn't sound too happy with her, Saturday afternoon.

Becky left Brad's a whole two hours early because she had no idea how to navigate New York City yet and bet good money on her getting lost.

Sure enough Becky got off the subway at the wrong exit and spent the next forty five minutes trying to retrace her steps. Thanks to her long head start she made it early, which was a first for her, and waited patiently for Freen to arrive.

After she ordered her coffee she turned around to see Freen reading on her table in the corner of the coffee shop. She was deeply engrossed in something (The Heiress and the Artist, as she was vividly reliving the fiction of that night) so Becky coughed to make herself known.

"Oh, Becky! You're early!" Freen said as she snapped the tablet closed and hoped Becky didn't know what she was reading desperately trying to get the device out of sight should Becky possess some kind of x-ray vision.

"Yeah, I got lost for a bit," she admitted. "And I knew that would happen, so I left super early."

"A good plan."

"Probably the only one I ever had. Apart from taking you up on your offer way back when," Becky gave a shy half smile.

Freen didn't seem amused. "Please, sit."

Becky took the open seat across from her. "If you haven't noticed already, I'm super sorry about all of this."

"I noticed," Freen responded coldly. "Do me a favor? Call my phone."

"Why?" Becky asked as she dug the device out of her pants pocket.

Freen just slid the phone across the table when it started ringing. "Lora, Sex Goddess" read the caller ID.

Becky hung up the phone and slapped her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope."

"I swear to god, I'm going to find whoever decided my name isn't a word and I'm going to punch them right in the face," Becky muttered in a low voice.

"I'll be next in line," Freen agreed.

From that point forward neither of them knew how to continue. How do they break the silence of their relationship that had, for all intents and purposes, lasted six months? What words could fill that void? Could anything be said to bring back the connection that was thought to be dead?

"I guess I should apologize too," Freen said finally. "I scoured my phone, going just shy of pouring through every single name, but I didn't see your name. Autocorrect was not something I ever considered."

"I can't be mad at you for my mistake. I fucked up. I royally fucked up. Sorry 'Sami," Becky was looking down, intently studying the steam rising in soft little spirals off her coffee.

Freen's eyes were studying the top of Becky's head, green eyes thinking, calculating, trying to come up with some kind of solution. But her head and her feelings couldn't agree on what to do and the silence was coming again. She couldn't stand another silence between the two of them. It very well might kill her.

"Apology accepted," she finally said, in a futile attempt to stave off the silence once again.

"So where does that leave us?" Becky asked, picking at the wood grain table.