The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) (76 page)

“
Want to taste?
”
she asks, coaxing me over with a slight tilt of her head.

I chuckle and then I groan, covering my face with my hands. Her comment doesn
’
t make me think of food at all! The only thing her question conjures is the memory of her standing outside my door, cold and wet, with a request to make her warm.
Yes, I want to taste. Believe me, I want to taste every last
—
Good Lord, I need to get my mind
out
of the gutter.

“
What was that for?
”
she laughs, now oblivious to what I
’
m thinking.
She
’
s so adorable.
“
Come
‘
ere, it
’
s almost done. I just need you to tell me if you want more spice.
”

“
Okay,
”
I sigh as I slide from the counter. When I
’
m right behind her, I lean down and snake my arms around her waist, pulling her close as I rest my chin on her shoulder. Looking into the pan in front of her, I
’
m amazed at what I see. Mixed in with the ramen noodles are scrambled eggs, peas, and bell peppers. I have no idea what she
’
s created, but it doesn
’
t look like soup and it smells delicious.
“
What is it?
”
I ask before opening my mouth for her to feed me a bite.

“
Ramen stir-fry.
”

“
Mmm,
”
I hum as I chew.
“
This is good. You did good.
”

“
Told you your girlfriend could doctor up some ramen.
”

“
My
gorgeous
girlfriend
—
who is also amazing.
”
I plant a kiss on her cheek before I whisper,
“
Thank you.
”

“
You
’
re welcome. Now let
’
s eat, I
’
m starved.
”

I know it might seem odd to most people, but I cannot wait for this summer to finally be over. The next week can
’
t go by fast enough. It
’
s not that I haven
’
t had a good break
—
it
’
s actually been surprisingly pleasant
—
but it has definitely worn me out. I
’
ve been so busy and so focused that I seriously think going back to a full class schedule will be somewhat of a reprieve.

The past couple months have been all about preparing for the grind that will be the application process for medical school. I
’
ve clocked more volunteer hours at the hospital than I planned on. I also put in some time shadowing physicians at a primary care doctor
’
s office in town. After my experiences there, I think I might want to become a pediatrician. I
’
m not completely set on that emphasis, but I like the idea of it.

I
’
ve also put in a lot of work on my applications. I
’
m still waiting on one more recommendation letter but, after I have that and another meeting with my a pre-health advisor, I should be all set for submission. I
’
m relieved that my MCAT scores from the spring were good enough that I didn
’
t have to worry about studying all summer to take it again. With that under my belt, pretty soon, it
’
ll all just be a waiting game.

Of course, along with all of that, I
’
ve been working at the bookstore. Needless to say, my days are pretty full. Even still, making time to hang out with friends is also a priority. Without them, I
’
d probably go insane. Sundays have become my favorite day of the week; it
’
s usually the one day when I don
’
t have anything going on, outside of church, and the afternoon is habitually spent doing something with the group. Sundays are also the one day each week that I
’
m guaranteed to see Addison.

Our schedules haven
’
t really meshed well over the past several weeks. I
’
m not sure if it
’
s because we
’
re not a couple anymore, and therefore not going out of our way to make time for each other, or if it would have been this way even if we were, but I know that I miss her. I miss the routine of being together. Yet, at the same time, I
’
m doing okay without
us
. At first, I felt guilty admitting that. Then one day, on a coffee date with my journal, it hit me
—
isn
’
t that a good thing, to be working on being okay by myself?
I
’
m not going to say that being separated isn
’
t difficult, because it is, but I didn
’
t break up with her to torture myself. In the beginning, that
’
s exactly what it felt like, but now? Now, I don
’
t feel that way.
I
’
ve let go
.

Two months ago, I gave up. While I wasn
’
t paying attention,
peace
came in and took my surrender and made it not one of defeat, but of freedom. It
’
s not so much that I
’
m free of
her
, but I
’
m free of the weight of expectation. When we were together, I felt bombarded with the future and all that was
supposed
to happen next. Then, when we first broke up, I felt the pressure of needing to figure everything out so that we could get back together within a timeframe that was acceptable. Both situations made me feel as if I was bound to something in a way that contradicted the freedom that is to exist in love. Now
…

I love her. I
’
m
in love
with her. We
’
re not together and I don
’
t know when that will change, but I
’
m okay with that. It might not make any sense
—
in fact, I know it doesn
’
t make any sense
—
but it feels right. I promised myself that I would stop asking why; I told God that He could do whatever He wanted and that I would be waiting. I
’
ve kept that promise. I won
’
t lie to myself and say that it hasn
’
t been a difficult promise to keep
—
especially on days when my longing for her is so strong that it actually, physically, hurts
—
but on those days, I just have to surrender all over again.
On those days, my stubbornness be damned. I can
’
t control everything, even though I want to
—
a truth that I
’
m constantly being reminded of.

My phone vibrates, alerting me to a text, and I discard my thoughts.

Logan:
On a scale of 1-10 (10 being great, 1 being total shit) how
’
s it going?

A smirk pulls at my lips at the familiar text.

Logan
. She
’
s like a force of nature. Relentless and unpredictable, but also pleasantly unexpected and enjoyable. Just like the shift from
giving up
to
letting go
, Logan happened while I wasn
’
t paying attention. We
’
re friends. We
’
re so different that I
’
m not really sure how
—
but, these days, I
’
m not asking how. Not how, not what, not why, only
when.

What I
do
know is that she and I are bad-day-buddies. A week or so after we hung out at Cooper
’
s, she came into Little Bird while I was there, grumpy as I
’
ve ever seen her. Daphne was working, but she wasn
’
t going to be off for a while, so I got roped into hanging out with her instead. She told me that she had been there for me on my bad day and it was her turn to cash in the same favor. Ever since then, we periodically text each other, grading our days on a scale from one-to-ten. Anything lower than four, we make plans. I don
’
t know what it is about her, but she never minds it when I
’
m in a horrible mood; and, surprisingly, I like giving her the chance to cheer me up. On the flip side, I
’
m glad to be able to return the favor when needed.

She
’
s a flirty person, which has taken some getting used to, but I know that it
’
s harmless. It
’
s just how she is. Obviously, if we
’
re in a group
—
which happens these days, as she, Daphne, and sometimes Roman, have become frequent additions to my family of friends
—
I try and shield Addie from Logan
’
s forwardness. But she
’
s like that with everyone, so it
’
s not as if her actions should be read into. Just the same, I make it a point that when Logan and I hang out, we
never
go to Cooper
’
s. That didn
’
t go so well the last time.

Me:
6. You?

Logan:
-3. This day sucks balls so hard, it
’
s worse than total shit!!!!

Logan:
Dinner? The Tap Room?