The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (115 page)

I don
’
t want to lead him on, which is why I think it
’
s best that we don
’
t talk about it. The truth is, I don
’
t know what I want. It doesn
’
t matter how much I think about it or pray about it or journal about it,
I don
’
t know what I want
. I like Roman more and more as time goes on, but I love Beckham, too. My feelings for him have not diminished over the last five months. Sometimes I catch him looking at me and I swear, I fall more in love with him from afar. I
’
ll be the first to admit that it
’
s frustrating and confusing and unfair.

Roman and I have something
—
and the only thing holding us back from exploring a relationship with one another is me. Why? Because Beckham and I have something, too
—
or at least, we
had
something; whether or not we
’
ll get back together is up for debate, but it doesn
’
t change the fact that the man I
’
ve loved for over five years can
’
t just be discarded because I like someone else. Also, the last thing I want is for Roman to be some sort of rebound.

All that to say, my slutty heart wants both of them and until I can make up my mind about what to do, I
’
m content to exist in this space where no one talks about how they feel or what they want. I would have never guessed in a million years that I would ever find myself in a predicament like this. I
’
ve seen or heard of other girls having to go through something similar and I
’
ve internally chastised them for not being able to make up their minds. I can now attest that it
’
s harder than it looks.

“
Well, hello, my two song birds,
”
calls Daphne, as we
’
re apparently the next in line.
“
What can I get for you tonight? Besides a proper dose of good luck?
”

I turn and offer her a smile before I order myself a hot tea. Roman mimics my order and then insists on paying for both of them. While we wait for our order, the first act takes the stage. He and I watch as the male artist, with his keyboard, belts out a beautiful ballad. I stand, transfixed, even after our order is up. When he
’
s finished, I look up at Roman and flash an
oh, great, I have to follow that?
face. He chuckles as he takes my hand and leads me to the table in the far left corner near the front, where all of his stuff is.

I take off my jacket and hang my purse over the back of my chair before I settle in to enjoy the next few acts. Most of them are okay, another one is really good, and then the one right before we go up is pretty bad
—
and I can tell by the reaction of the crowd that I
’
m not the only one who thinks so. For a second, knowing that we get to follow that, my confidence is bolstered. Then, our names are announced and my nerves take over. Roman pats my knee before he reaches for his guitar and offers me his hand. I take it and we make our way up onto the small stage. He gives my hand a squeeze before he lets me go and introduces us. That done, he props himself up on the stool beside me and I take the vacated space in front of the mic. As he starts playing, I close my eyes and say a quick prayer before I take a deep breath and begin to sing.

She looks breathtaking up there. It
’
s not just the way she can make a sweater look like the finest piece of clothing ever known to man; it
’
s not just the way the lights shine against her silky black hair; and it
’
s not just the sound of her voice as she sings the fast ballad that reminds me of a really good Indie band. It
’
s also the way she fidgets with her fingers, because she
’
s nervous; it
’
s the way she sways to the beat created by the guitar; and it
’
s the way she smiles as the audience encourages her and Roman as the song continues.

That
’
s my girl.

I showed up just before they took the stage. I almost missed it, so caught up in my homework that I didn
’
t notice the time. The cafe is packed, so I opt to stand in the back of the room. I don
’
t mind, though; I
’
d stand all night just to listen to that voice. She sounds amazing
—
different and better than I
’
ve ever heard her before. As I admire her, I realize that she
’
s a different version of the woman I love. Up on that stage, she seems bigger and stronger, more vibrant and confident. I wonder how I
’
ve managed to not notice it until now.

The lyrics speak of living for today instead of trying to fix yesterday or worry about tomorrow. I
’
m not sure if it
’
s because I relate to what she
’
s singing or just because she
’
s the one singing it, but I start to think about today and all the worrying I
’
ve been doing about tomorrow. I imagine her speaking the words to me and all at once, I
’
m struck with an epiphany.

It doesn
’
t matter whether or not Stanford or Baylor wants me.

If they do, awesome; if they don
’
t, that doesn
’
t change the fact that I want to be a doctor
—
it just means I have to try again. Simple as that. It doesn
’
t make me a failure, it doesn
’
t speak ill of my intelligence, it just means that this time, things didn
’
t go my way. And you know what? There
’
s nothing wrong with that. If I
’
ve learned anything in the last few months, it
’
s that things aren
’
t always going to go my way. I might not understand why, but that doesn
’
t mean that there isn
’
t a good reason.

I don
’
t know what
’
s going to happen next year. Maybe I
’
ll be in California, maybe I
’
ll be in Texas, maybe I
’
ll still be in Fort Collins
—
but wherever I am, I
’
ll be fine. Furthermore, wherever I am, God's got my back. He knows what I want, He knows my heart, and I believe that He had a hand in making me this way. If that
’
s true, and I continue seeking Him and following Him, eventually I
’
ll be wherever it is that I
’
m meant to be, doing exactly what I
’
m meant to do, with the woman I
’
ve chosen to spend my life with.

Wherever I am, I want Addie.

Good. Lord.

I think I just got my when.

My core suddenly feels like it
’
s on fire and heat spreads from my center all the way to the top of my head and the tips of my toes. I bring my hand up to my heart, which feels like it
’
s beating so fast it could carry me away.

Wherever I am, I want Addie.
I can spend the next year anywhere doing anything and it wouldn
’
t matter as long as I have Addie. Not just any Addie, but
that
Addie
—
the Addison Jane whose voice fills this coffee shop. And not just Addie, my friend
—
but Addison Jane, my
wife
.

I shiver and stifle a laugh.

I don
’
t care how or why or what, I only care about when
—
and when is
now
. I can feel it. I
’
m as sure that I want to marry her as I was that I needed to break up with her. It
’
s like Pastor Doug said:
One day, you
’
re going to look at her and it
’
ll hit you. You
’
ll just know that you can no longer go on like this.

The patrons that fill Little Bird cheer enthusiastically as their song ends, pulling me from my thoughts. I
’
m so caught up in my most recent change of heart that I start to make my way over to Addison without delay. As soon as she and Roman step off the stage, he pulls her in for a hug. It lasts only a second before he lets her go. Then the unthinkable happens.

I stop dead in my tracks as I watch him slide his hands down her arms until his fingers meet hers and they lace them together just as he leans down to kiss her.

My heart sinks when I watch her close her eyes and surrender to his affection.

What. The. Hell?

I
’
ve got to get out of here.

This can
’
t be happening. Is that for real? Is this my life?

I
’
ve got to get out of here.

I make my way to the door as fast as humanly possible and inhale a gigantic breath of the cool night air. I
’
m not certain about what I just saw, but it looked like
my
Addison might not actually be
mine
anymore.

Shit
.
I
’
ve got to get out of here.

“
Thank you,
”
he murmurs as he looks down at me. My heart is racing as I try and calm down after that unexpected kiss and I can hardly find any words to speak. Luckily, he doesn
’
t seem to have that problem.
“
You were fantastic; absolutely amazing. So, thank you.
”

I force myself to swallow before I can speak.
“
You
’
re welcome,
”
I stammer.

“
I
’
m going to go speak to Daphne. I
’
ll be back in a minute.
”
He presses a kiss to my forehead and then begins to walk away.
“
You were so great.
”