Yours Truly by Jen Meyers

Author:Jen Meyers [Meyers, Jen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The apartment was quiet and dark when I let myself in. Josh’s door was closed and the sofa bed was already made up for me, with my bags sitting neatly on top.

And I couldn’t deny my disappointment.

As soon as I’d left Duke, I’d been anxious to get back to Josh. Now that I was standing alone in the middle of his living room, I was seriously regretting that I’d ever left in the first place.

Sure, I had the beginnings to a fantastic article that my readers were going to love, and I felt good about that. But there was a part of me that felt sure I’d missed out. That I’d made the wrong decision.

The feeling had nagged at me all evening, and now that I was back in his space it had grown to epic proportions. Even after three years of living by myself, I’d never felt more alone than I did at that moment.

Quietly, I scooped up my computer and took it out to the kitchen where I placed it on the table. As I waited for it to boot up, I opened the refrigerator door and gawked at all the containers of leftovers.

And the ache in my chest got a little bit bigger.

He’d gone all out for me. Why had I left?

Had I really needed to go on this date? Kind of. But I also could have rescheduled with a quick text. And I still would have had everything I needed for a great magazine piece.

So why hadn’t I stayed?

I stared at all of the containers.

Maybe it was because this had felt like more. Like we were crossing some sort of line in the sand. The point of no return. Because no one had ever cooked for me, and it felt intimate and caring, and I wasn’t ready for that with Josh.

With anyone.

But especially with him because I liked him too much to screw things up. I was too attached to ever be okay with losing him.

We were friends. Best friends, if I was being honest. And he’d been amazing this week with my parents and then opening up his place, his life for us.

For me.

Perhaps I was reading too much into this. He was a nice guy and he was doing something for a friend. Would I have done the same for him? Yes. But I also would have known that it didn’t mean anything more than that.

But this? All this food sitting here staring back at me like a semi-hostile, though tasty, jury? I couldn’t tell what it meant.

I reached in and grabbed the most accusatory looking container, as well as a few of its neighbors, and placed them on the table. Then I got out a plate and filled it.

God, even cold it smelled amazing. Who knew that Josh could cook? He really was the Perfect Guy. When I fictionalized him, I wasn’t going to have to change much. My readers would be swooning over him as is.

I lifted a filled fork to my mouth and had to hold back a moan as the flavors exploded on my tongue.

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