Purposefully Accidental

Chapter Twenty-Six

I don't tell Freddie about running into Jonah at the coffee shop.

It's not like we keep secrets from each other when it comes to our personal romantic pursuits—past, present, or future. It's also not like we need each other's permission when it comes to that. It's not even that he gets easily jealous. It's just that... talking to him about Jonah embarrasses the shit out of me.

Though I tried to keep it from him, he eventually found out about Jonah's proposal at my brother's wedding, the very one that he interrupted, and he felt so guilty about it he wouldn't stop apologizing to me for months.

Freddie kept blaming himself for ruining what might have happened between me and Jonah. But I never once blamed him. I was glad to have been there for him when his father got sick. He was a wreck, and I wasn't sure he'd make it to New York if I'd left him at the airport by himself.

I told him that I'd accepted what fate had written for me, that that was it—the end of me and Jonah. I told Freddie to never bring it up again, because it actually only got harder for me to close that chapter of my life if I didn't force myself to stop thinking about him.

Talking to him about Jonah just feels... not right.

I barely ever talked about Jonah to anybody else, anyway. Only Gina knows almost everything, after a long phone call while I was waiting for my flight on that fateful day. My roommate in college also knew, to an extent—not the full picture, but enough—after I once had a meltdown when I saw his face on TV. My family knew that Jonah and I had another falling out—if you could even call it that. But I stopped talking about him pretty much after I came back from Los Angeles, and I guess everyone just understood what that meant for our doomed relationship.

I never told Freddie anything more than what he'd already known—that Jonah came to Tony's wedding, proposed to me, and I left him without giving an answer. We never talked about Jonah because there was just no point in ever talking about him after that point in my life.

So, no. I haven't told him about the run-in at the coffee shop.

Besides, it's not like anything happened. It's been nearly a week since the coffee shop thing, and he only contacted me a few days ago just as I was about to start wondering if I gave him the wrong number. But we've made plans to go out for drinks—as friends—tonight. Which is cool. No big deal.

Jonah told me he's staying at a hotel in Greenwich Village, so I said I'll meet him around the area, since it's right on the way to Freddie's place from campus. He agreed to meet me there.

After finishing the last class for the day, I'm taking the train from Brooklyn. I've ditched Walter since that second day I was in New York, because the traffic is horrible, and I actually enjoy wandering around the city by myself.

Also, the thought of having one of Freddie's employed chauffeurs waiting around for me while I finish my classes and have lunch and meet my professors makes me feel a bit weird. I'm sure he's got better things to do that's worth his time.

I send Jonah a text, telling him that I'm on my way. About ten minutes later, he shares the location of a bistro near Washington Square Park, saying that he's also on his way.

I know there's still all the hurt and heartbreak that wants to flash its warnings in the back of my head. But it doesn't stop my heart from racing at the thought of seeing Jonah again.

It should scare me, I think to myself as I get off the train and walk toward the bistro Jonah chose for our meeting. I'm opening myself back up for another heartbreak—not even for the second time, but for the third.