On The Run: Part Two

Chapter Thirty-One - "One Part . . ."

Sarah

I stepped into the kitchen, feeling the silence engulf me. Why the hell did I have to get an apartment of this magnitude?

I could hear my every breath and every moving thought in my mind. I filled my wine glass up to the last drop, and tossed the empty bottle in the trash. I spotted the magazine lying beneath it, and I couldn’t help but smile. Slowly, I eased it out.

Chloe was at the kitchen table, stuffing her face with Bran Flakes, as she hid behind a magazine.

“Morning.”

“Good morning,” she said cheerily, not putting it down.

“What’s got you all bright and merry this gloomy morning?” I asked, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“Sarah Barron – an ex-cop, and now, lawyer, would be any man’s dream girl, especially if she’s still got those cuffs lying around. Under the radar for so long, she’s clearly a very private person, but we can’t help but adore her looks, especially with that fashion sense and—”

 I cut her off, “What the hell?”

Then I saw the magazine headline: Top 40 under 40. I cringed.

“No!”

Chloe giggled and handed it to me, “Congratulations number seven. Frankly, I don’t think there’s anything special about numbers 4 through 6, but I have to say, 3, 2, 1, they gave you a run for your money – contortionist, actress and doctor; it’s a movie waiting to happen.”

I stared at the page with the pictures of me, getting more uncomfortable by the minute. I looked up at her and glared.

She laughed, “Just watch your back. I think number 8 or 9 is into martial arts.”

Shaking my head, I threw the magazine in the trash and walked off to my room, Chloe’s chuckles following me.

With a sigh, I tossed it back in. Staring at my lone wine glass, I grabbed my cell phone, and dialed.

“Hey. Want to come over?”

*

I pulled open the door with a sigh.

“I brought wine,” Aubrey said, holding up a bag. She slung her arm around my shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

“Why would you think anything’s wrong?” I asked as we walked into the kitchen.

“I know you, Sparks. Come on, tell me.”

I fingered the rim of my wine glass, and shrugged, “I guess I’m just a little lonely.”

“You miss Chloe?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She gave me a sad smile, “And?”

I sighed, “And I miss Jake. I really miss Jake. To think that it’s only going to get worse.”

“Sarah, what do you want?”

“Right now?”

“Just . . . what do you want?”

“Jake.”

“Yeah, but do you wantfrom him? Do you want to go back to being friends? Do you want to date him? Do you want to just be with him? Do you want forever? You say you want him, but you haven’t even tried. Do you just expect that one day he’ll come back to you? Do you think it’s just going to happen?”