Because of Them (Because of Love #2)

Chapter Three

MICHAEL

T he bell rings above the cafe door. The sound of cars out on the street mingles with the steady chatter and the whirring coffee machine from inside. My coffee begins to churn in my stomach, and I push the half-drunk glass towards the centre of the table. Dark pink rose petals bunch around it, and I gag at how … lovey the whole place looks.

I look up from the table and see Audrey, frozen just inside the door. She casts her eyes over the cafe, her gaze lingering on the floral wall at the back. Even from across the room I notice the way her eyebrows pinch together.

I should not have recommended this cafe.

It was my go-to, once upon a time. With its overly done floral theme and pink everything, it was just what I needed when I was looking for cutesy and romantic brunch dates. The kind I hoped would become more but never did. Maybe it was fate that I never brought Audrey here. The coffee is overrated anyway, and the dates never panned out.

I try not to let my mind wander to the last date I had here. The girl ceremoniously walked out when I accidentally let slip that I had dinner plans with another woman. And lunch plans. That was probably a mistake too, but the lunch date that followed it? That was when I met Audrey.

I’d slipped onto the bench beside her in the park across town, and every other woman on the planet disappeared. She reached out an arm to shake my hand, and my fingers tingled from her touch. In that moment it felt as though all my fuck ups were worth it to be right there, in the park, meeting her for the first time. I’d cancelled the dinner date within minutes.

I kept fucking up after that though, just like I fucked up choosing this cafe. I thought the romantic vibe was just what we needed to reconnect, but something is off. Audrey isn’t glowing like she used to. Beauty still shines off her, but her face is a little pale, and her eyes seem sunken. Her short blonde hair has grown out of the chin length style she sported when we first met, now dusting across her shoulders in gentle, messy waves. The highlights have grown out too, leaving a mousey section at the top of her head. The unkempt style suits her, but it doesn’t feel like her .

Audrey holds the back of her hand against her mouth as she searches the room. When she sees me waving, her body shrinks into itself.

I shiver, but not from the way my long hair is still damp from my post gym shower. Fuck, I should have given myself more time to make sure it was dry. Should have packed more appropriate clothes than the grey sweats and tight tee I keep in my gym bag.

Squeezing between the tables, Audrey makes her way towards me, pulling her maroon cardigan around her before bringing one hand back up to her mouth.

She pulls out her own chair and sits down opposite me before I realise I should have got up to greet her.

“Sorry this place is a little …” I wave my arm towards the giant floral backdrop, tilting my head towards the rose petals spread across the table.

“Tacky?”

I shift my gaze between Audrey, the petals on the table, the flowers on the wall, and the hot pink coffee machine.

“I was going to say nauseating,” I say, reaching my hand across the table. I nudge a pile of petals out of my way and rest my fingertips on her elbow. They tingle, just like they did that first day. The sensation crawls up my skin, under my shirt until it settles on my chest. Audrey scoots back in her chair, out of reach.

“Don’t say that.” Her voice is a whisper, barely audible through the fist she still holds over her mouth.

“Are you okay? You look … tired? Sick?”

Audrey pushes out of the chair, standing in a rush. It clambers behind her, knocking into the woman seated at the next table, but Audrey pays her no attention.

“I’ll be back.” She chokes out the words before darting through the tables and rushing to the back of the cafe. She slips into the hallway, following the sign to the restrooms.

My knee bounces under the table while I wait for her to return. I shouldn’t have said she looked tired. Fucking idiot. If she is tired, she probably knows it. And if she wasn’t I just turned around and told her she looks bad. That’s not what I meant . I only wanted to know if she is okay. Why? Why is it only with Audrey that all my charm melts away and I’m left with nothing but my awkward self?

I stand up, shaking out my arms as though I can brush off the nerves and anxious energy.

The guy behind the coffee machine freezes to check what I’m doing. Giving him what I hope is a reassuring smile, I turn around the room.

“Were you leaving?”

Audrey looks even more pale than she did five minutes ago. Her glassy eyes flick between the table and me, and a loose strand falls from the haphazard bun she tied in her hair. I reach out, desperate to tuck it away from her face, to comfort her, to hold her through whatever it is that’s making her feel this bad.

She flinches away from me, one hand on the back of her chair.

Shit, this is going terribly. I plonk back onto the seat.

“No, Audrey. I was just stretching my back.” My eyes shift side to side at the half truth, even as I try to hold them steady.

Audrey presses her palms against her eyes.

“Michael, I can’t—”

“Wait. I wasn’t ‘stretching my back’. But I wasn’t leaving either.” I cut her off, spitting the words out as fast as I can. “I’m sorry, okay. I didn’t mean to say you looked like shit, and I didn’t mean to pick out some super loved up cafe. I couldn’t sit still so I stood up while I waited for you to come back. I keep fucking up and—”

“Stop.”

I snap my mouth shut, the harshness of her voice mixes with a hint of despair. She sits in her chair, resting her elbows against the table. My fingers twitch against the table, aching to reach out to her. To pull her close and show her that I care and that I’m more than some idiotic young man who has no clue.

“Can we just order some food? Please?”

Nodding, I turn my attention to the waitress wandering between tables. Her slick long hair flicks against her back when she pivots towards us. We make quick work ordering food, I don’t need the menu to know I want the biggest breakfast meal available. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, and all the toppings to go with it. But Audrey keeps her order light—raisin toast with a fruit juice—and I’m left wondering if I overestimated our date. If she wants to leave sooner rather than later.

“I am sorry, you know,” I reiterate while we wait for our food. “For choosing this place. I’ve been here a couple of times and the coffee is okay but the food is good. I just forgot how cutesy it is.”

“It’s okay, Michael.”

“No, it’s not. None of it is okay. I’ve spent weeks trying to get you to see me again, and now you are, I keep messing it up.”

“Michael, it’s not the cafe.”

It’s not? I reach up to scratch underneath my bun, where the hair tie pulls against my scalp. If the cafe isn’t the problem, I’m really at a loss. Because as much as Audrey is stunning, she’s looked miserable from the second she arrived. I hadn’t said a word to her and she was already clutching at her stomach.

“Okay, well let’s start again then,” I try.

I push out of my chair, hovering in a semi crouched position before changing my mind when I see the thin line that forms on Audrey’s mouth. She drops her head into her hand.

Pulling my chair back under me, I sit on my fingers. My knee bounces under the table and I fight the urge to pick apart my nails.

“How are you, Audrey?”

From behind her hand, a puff of air blows from Audrey’s mouth.

“No? Um, how about … I’ve missed you?”

Her eyebrows reach her hair.

Shaking my head, I try again. “I’m sorry?”

“ That’s a good place to start.”

I close my eyes, processing her abruptness. Something unexpected crackles through me. Disappointment. In myself. My skin crawls as I piece together the words to form a decent apology.

“I never expected to find what we had Audrey, and when I did, I didn’t know how to react.”

Audrey leans back in her chair, her hand falling from where it rested against her mouth. “Mike that’s not what I—”

“Don’t call me that, not you. And please, let me finish. I’m not an adult, not in the way you are. You’re a mother, you have your career on track, you own a house. I have none of those things, and I’m not ready for them either. But I still think we could work. What we had was too incredible to walk away from, just because we are at different stages of our lives.”

In my peripheral, I spot the waitress coming over to our table, coffees propped on her tray. Audrey slams her hands down on the table. The waitress’s long ponytail flicks over her shoulder as she pivots to deliver drinks to a calmer table first. I don’t blame her.

“That’s just it, Michael. You’re not ready to be a parent, you’re too scared to even try to take a step forward in your career, and I don’t give a shit about whether you have a house or rent an apartment but you have to learn to own your decisions.”

Her head drops, resting back on her hands for a moment. When she looks back up at me, her crystal blue eyes glisten with new tears. “Life is not all about good sex, Michael.” She whispers the words, glancing around us as though she is making sure no one heard.

“No,” I admit. “And a relationship shouldn’t be built on that either. But you have to admit it was pretty good.”

I wink, and Audrey’s cheeks glow with a blush. Colour returns to her face and I see a hint of the playful woman I fell for. As quickly as the glimmer of a smile came, she drags it off her face.

“Good sex is not all it’s hyped up to be. It has consequences.”

My thoughts scramble. We always used a condom, and I hadn’t been with anyone since I was tested for any sexually transmitted infections or diseases. Audrey stands before I can work out what she means, before I find the words to ask for clarification.

“I’m sorry, Michael. This was a mistake.”

Reaching down to grab her bag from beside her chair, Audrey sucks in a long breath. She doesn’t look at me when tucks it over her shoulder, croaking out a swift goodbye and turning on her heel.

I sit and watch her exit, coming to my senses as the bell above the door chimes and she steps onto the footpath. The waitress steps up to the table with our drinks, preventing me from rushing out to Audrey.

“Sorry, please cancel the order.” I throw my wallet on the table, already scooting around the chairs.

“Wait, you can’t—” the waitress calls out, but she doesn’t move. Either she knows she can’t stop me, or she can’t be bothered.

I call over my shoulder as I head to the door, “I’ll be back.”

Stepping onto the footpath, I spot Audrey a block down the street. I scurry between the crowd, wrapping my fingers around her wrist when I catch up to her. Last time I touched her, electricity sparked through me. But this time, something softer tickles its way up my arm, settling back into my chest.

“Audrey, what do you mean?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she sobs.

Pulling her towards me, I spin her around and wrap my arms around her back. Her soft curves fall into place against my chest as she nuzzles into my shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter,” she adds. “Really, don’t worry about it. But please, stop calling me. Okay?”

I nod against her hair, even though I don’t mean it. I don’t want to stop calling Audrey, I don’t want to stop trying to make her see that we are right together. But with everything I keep doing and saying? All the mistakes I keep making? Maybe we’re wrong after all.