Richard had waited, pacing his home, shouting angrily at intervals and desperately hoping that she would realize herself and call.
He was a fool for having such hope, but then he’d always been a fool for Stacey, and he knew that wouldn’t change if he were given a chance to redo it, he’d still be a fool for her, only her.
“Fuck!” he shouted out his frustration and fury when hours later she hadn’t called; he couldn’t believe he’d snapped and said all those horribly untrue things to her.
Since he didn’t have any avenue to expel his anger, he grabbed the books on his table and flung them at the wall, one of it smacked and cracked the large mirror he’d installed for her.
Breaking down, he sobbed, but the tears seemed to have dried up so he was left with breathless heaves as he realized she was gone.
How could she just leave like that? Now he understood how she must have felt five years ago. But still, he’d apologized in all ways possible, he’d been the best damn boyfriend to her, he’d been willing to do anything for her, but she hadn’t seen that.
And even if he’d have broken control and told her that he loved her, he was sure she wouldn’t have believed him. He knew Stacey and how she thought, especially with the experience she’d had with her divorced parents, she had the opinion that young people, in their early twenties, didn’t necessarily have the emotional maturity to handle deep relationships.
In fact, she’d said as much in her second novel and he should have known that her stories were a reflection of her thoughts. Stacey felt his devotion to her was fickle and that he probably didn’t know what he wanted because he was young.
She believed there was more out there and for young persons to garner emotional maturity, they would have experienced countless things to solidly build that maturity.
Stacey judged him with this yard stick and it hurt like hell. His own experiences had been garnered at a young age, maybe if he’d opened up his festering memory to her, maybe she would have understood.
But that thought was like squeezing the ass after passing wind, as one of his Asian bosses would say about efforts in futility; the milk had already been spilt.
He knew what he wanted; he was sure of what he wanted and what he wanted, craved, couldn’t breathe without, was Stacey. She kept the darkness of his past at bay, she brought light into his life and made everything better, an advantage he’d discovered as a teenager and confirmed as an adult.
Stacey was the one. Should he go back and beg; would she accept him after the horrible things he’d said? Horrible things that were reminiscent of other horrible things he’d said five years ago, another panicked lash out, but this time worse.
Richard groaned at the very physical pain in his chest, it felt like someone had ripped his heart out. He sat on the bed and bent over, his mind reeling endlessly.
Maybe this was a good thing; she had to figure this out by herself and to do that she needed time.
He would call Mr. Garcia, his direct boss and accept the training slot and his sponsorship. Hopefully, a two week separation would help her have clarity.
But then a niggling part of his mind asked, what if she didn’t? Richard shook his head vehemently, refuting that thought, refusing to acknowledge it.
He loved Stacey and wouldn’t give her up. He realized he’d been smothering her with affection, so maybe letting her go was the right move; he had to believe it was, he had to hope it was.
With the difficult decision made and no palpable relief of the pressure in his heart, a pressure he knew only Stacey could relief, he reached for his phone and called Mr. Garcia. His boss was ecstatic about his acceptance.
Richard’s next call was to Wana and PJ, informing them that he would be away for a two week or more training at Belgium. PJ was crazy happy for him and he could hear Debbie’s squeal of happiness in the background.
Wana was happy too, but like on the day of his graduation more than five years ago, there was a certain sad quality to her voice that informed him that she knew what he’d once again done; he’d sent Stacey running away.
This time though, she refused to vocalize her disappointment and Richard couldn’t decide which one was worse.
DUCT SEASON 4 continues
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