A Year Without You

19 ~ Her

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Her

Day 272 – You again

It's been two day since my training had ended. But I wasn't in a rush on getting back home. Shayne's excuse for my actions had been I was too afraid to get back – to face that love and life I choose to leave. After our short escapade about three months or so ago, I came back dishearten for saying the wrong choice of words. For the following week since my latest encounter with Collin, Shayne had been pestering me to man up and admit my true feeling.

Even though I had stopped talking about my concerns with him, Shayne had gotten too involved in this because of my poor choice of judgment. He was no longer merely a stranger to me. For the weeks that followed, Shayne had become someone close to me – like another version of Penny minus the girly parts.

On my last day in the city, we both went out for drinks to say our brief farewell. Since they next time we'll meet would be in Italy. But he promised to visit me again before that happened.

"So are you going to finally talk to him?" He inquired after I've drowned two shots.

Obviously, the drinks involved in this mini farewell party had alcohol in them. I'm only agreeing to such acts since I trusted Shayne as a person.

"I don't know," I muttered in reply as I took another sip of my beer.

"Don't give me that answer. Only men say such lame response. And for what I remember, you're still very much a woman." He pointed dryly. "Come on, already, Babe. You're drowning yourself since then, and I hate seeing you starting to get a habit out of this," he added, gesturing to the beer glass on my hand.

"It's usually wine. I only choose beer since you're buying," I defended, though it was such a lame defense, I hadn't disregarded his accusation.

"Babe, Emilia, you need to get this over with or you'll continually be miserable for the rest of your life. Well not the rest of your life – maybe another year or so..." he trailed off as his gaze harden, watching me taking another sip of my drink while ignoring his sermons.

Annoyed, he grabbed my glass away from me, making me lash out a bit. "Hey! That's mine!"

"I see you still have a bit of flare in you. If only you're as outspoken a direct as you're love towards this drink to him, then all you're nonsense problem would be solve. Love isn't rocket science, Emilia. Just say what you want to say. How difficult can that be?"

"I feel so pathetic being lecture about love by a playboy."

"Hey, at least I tell this girl what I want out of the relationship, but I'm very much outspoken when it comes to love. I like to keep things direct and open."

I rolled my eyes, but then smile apologetically. I knew it was rude to say those words to him – even though they were true. And he was right about it. But I'm still afraid of the inevitability that came long with it. Many possibilities and conclusion in which my actions would have a solution, but would it solve everything?

"I know you're thinking about it again. Don't think about how it will affect a certain fraction of your life. Let life take its course and you'll find the answers you couldn't find if you did."

I huffed in defeat and slumped back down on my seat. "I hate it when you go all Sherlock on me and read my emotions like I'm an open book."

"You think I could be a great detective instead of a cook?" And like a snapped, all seriousness of our conversation was gone.