Spring [Completed]

THIRTY

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HIM

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"How could you still love me after all this time?"
"Because I fell in love with your soul, my dear, and it is timeless"

—Marc Anthony
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It's been a week and a half since I've seen Imani, and the last time we spoke was brief. We didn't really get to talk about much of anything, let alone discuss what happened the day my dad died.

She called me the next day, frantic. She'd left her ring at my place and she needed it back. I don't know why that sentiment made me so angry... Of course she needed it back; it makes sense. I just couldn't help but wonder if she wanted it back too.

We met later that night and she didn't even come inside.

"Hey," she says, an awkward smile pulling at her lips as she leans against the door frame.

I step aside. "Do you want to come in?"

The look in her eyes tells me her answer before she opens her mouth. She shifts on her feet. "I better not," she says, glancing at the ground.

"Okay," I frown, nodding slightly. I want to ask if she's okay, but I hold my tongue, shoving my hand into my pocket instead. I pull out her ring and hold it up to the light, watching the way it sparkles.

The prettiest symbol of dysfunction I've ever laid my eyes upon.

I place it in her palm, my fingers lingering against her skin. "You sure you don't want to come inside?" I lean against the door frame and stare down at her, our faces dangerously close.

I can hear her sharp intake as she closes her eyes and slowly licks her lips. "Ethan," she whispers as my hand finds her waist. I duck down to her height and rest my forehead against hers. "We can't," she whispers before her lips selfishly meet mine.

The kiss is brief but passionate, and when I pull away and look at her once more, the longing in her eyes matches the desire clouding my mind. "Come inside, Imani," I plead, running my thumb along her lower lip.

She places a hand to my chest, running it painfully slow down my abdomen before sighing. "Thank you for this," she says as she slides her wedding ring on her finger.

I let out a defeated sigh, as I shove my hands into my pockets. "I'll see you soon though, right? After the funeral?"

I search her face for any sign of emotion, but there's nothing decipherable. She nods. "I'll call you."

She didn't call. Not even after the funeral.

I don't know why she never texted me, but I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was a busy woman, and she's already dealing with a lot. But, I was dealing with things too. I still am.

Somehow, throughout all this chaos, I made the time to think of her, and it's upsetting that she couldn't do the same.

Rain drums softly against my windshield as I make the short drive to my apartment. I only worked 12 hours this shift, a sweet relief to the hectic schedule my boss' had me on this week. I yawn as I pull into my parking spot and put the car in park. The only thing I want to do for the rest of the night is sleep. I run my hand through my hair and as I close my eyes, sleeps luring guise coaxing me.