Thief of My Heart. Janice Sims

he, Colton, Juan and Will had gotten together. As he got closer, he saw that they had gone home after work and changed into casual clothes while he still had on his suit slacks and shirt. He’d left his tie and jacket in the car. Each of his three closest friends was married now, and things had changed between them. They had new responsibilities that didn’t include hitting the clubs with their pals, or doing anything remotely fun like the way they used to, in his opinion. Sometimes Decker felt it was only a matter of time before they stopped making an effort to get together at all.

      He sighed. That was probably his general dissatisfaction with life talking. Some part of him wanted what they had: a solid, loving relationship with a woman. He was thirty-four and had never been that lucky.

      It was March, and March Madness was in full swing. The big-screen TVs at both ends of the huge room featured college basketball teams warring for a place in the NCAA’s Final Four.

      “What’d I miss?” Decker asked as he sat down at the table and accepted a mug of beer from Colton.

      “Kentucky just kicked Michigan’s butt,” Juan Medina, a Mexican-American in his late twenties, said with a pained expression on his face. Decker knew that Juan was a fan of the Michigan Wolverines.

      “Sorry, man,” he said. “Maybe next year.”

      “Where’ve you been?” Colton asked as he moved the platter of chicken wings closer to him so he could partake of what was left.

      “Tough day in court,” Decker said, reaching for a boneless wing. He popped it into his mouth and chewed, relishing the spicy morsel. “So, how’s life been treating you guys? Wives still got you whipped?”

      They all laughed with the ease of friends who mercilessly teased each other on a regular basis. “You wish you were whipped like us,” Colton said, gray eyes knowing.

      Decker winced inwardly. His cousin had hit the nail on the head. “I’m perfectly happy dating different beautiful women every week. I’m not ready to have a ring put through my nose.”

      “That depends on who’s putting the ring in it, my friend,” Will Simpson, a tall African-American in his early thirties, said. “I bet if Desiree Gaines offered you a ring, you’d gladly let her put it in and lead you around by the nose.”

      “Don’t mention that woman’s name,” Decker said defensively. “She’s my one failure. She broke my perfect record.”

      “Let’s keep this in perspective,” his cousin said. “Desiree is an angel compared to the woman whose name we really dare not mention out of respect for your stomped-on heart.”

      “We’re not going there,” Juan said, grinning. “Back to Desiree. Come on, man. She crushed your record! Not only will she not go out with you, she won’t even accept your flowers. How many times has she sent your flowers back now, ten, twenty times?”

      “I’m wearing her down,” Decker claimed with more bravado than he felt. “No one can resist this forever.” He pointed to his face and preened, which only elicited groans of disgust from his less than appreciative audience.

      “Maybe you’re going about it the wrong way,” Will suggested. He inclined his bald head in the direction of a group of young women gathered around the bar, chatting and giggling. “What do you see when you look at a pretty woman?”

      Decker hesitated because Will tended to be a philosopher. He asked harmless-sounding questions, but he was rarely satisfied with simple answers. “Is this a trick question? What am I supposed to see, Will? I see an attractive face and body.”

      “Then you’re not looking deeply enough,” said Will. “Every woman has a distinct personality. You can’t use the same old methods of seduction on every one of them. Desiree doesn’t respond to a player. So you’ve got to figure out what she wants and give it to her.”

      Decker looked at Will and shook his head in exasperation. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do?”

      “Get her into bed,” Colton deadpanned.

      “Eventually, yeah,” Decker said, turning to face his cousin, who could have been his brother they looked so much alike. Both of them were tall, with reddish-brown skin, dark brown hair shorn close to well-shaped heads and the Riley gray eyes. “But I really care about her. Would I still be trying to get her to go out with me after almost two years if I didn’t care?”

      “I don’t know,” Colton said. “Maybe it irks you that she’s holding out, and now it’s become important to you because you can’t bear to lose. You’ve never been a good loser, Decker.”

      “I know you’re married to her sister, but could you be on my side in this?” Decker asked plaintively. “I’m beginning to think it’s your opinion that I’m not good enough for your sister-in-law!”

      “Uh-oh,” Will said in anticipation of a fight erupting between the cousins. “Keep the comments civil, fellas.”

      “It’s not a question of your not being good enough for Desiree,” Colton said levelly. “I know you’re a decent man. But Desiree doesn’t, and you’re not giving her the room to observe you and come to that conclusion on her own. My advice is to quit sending her flowers and quit calling her altogether.”

      Decker frowned. “Did she tell you to talk to me? Is that it?”

      Colton shook his head and sighed impatiently. “No, no one asked me to talk to you. But I’m doing it anyway. Leave her alone and let her miss you, Decker. Who knows? Maybe she’ll miss the water when the well runs dry. Let’s face it, at this point she’s taking your attention for granted. Take it away, and see what happens.”

      Decker let Colton’s words sink in. His cousin could be right. He had tried everything in his considerable arsenal to get Desiree to go out with him. Cards, flowers, emails and numerous messages left on her answering machine. And the only explanation he could get out of her as to why she wouldn’t go out with him was the fact that she’d been in love once and her fiancé had died. She was, in essence, still in love with a man who had been dead for ten years. How was he going to compete with that?

      He smiled regrettably at his cousin and said, “I’ve tried everything else. I don’t suppose taking your advice could hurt.”

      “Unless, of course, it backfires and she’s happy that you’re giving up,” Juan joked.

      “Man, why’d you have to go there?” Will asked. “Now you’re gonna make him doubt himself even more than he already does.”

      “No, he’s right,” Decker said quickly. “There is the possibility that this will backfire. But at least I’ll know for sure that she’s never going to consider dating me, and then I can move on. That woman has had me in a holding position for too long. I haven’t dated another woman in over a year because of her. I’m going to qualify for sainthood soon.”

      His friends got a good laugh out of that assertion, after which Colton said, “I don’t think there’s a chance of that happening.” Then he gave his cousin a serious look. “So, what’s your plan?”

      Decker pursed his lips, thinking. “I’m going to send her one last bouquet tomorrow with a message that will state my case once and for all.”

      Colton smiled his agreement. “One last attempt, huh?”

      Decker nodded. “And if she sends them back, I’m moving on.”

      There were solemn looks all around the table, true friends sympathizing with the plight of one of their own having to suffer through a case of unrequited love.

      “Women can be so heartless,” Juan said, shaking his head sadly.

      “We’re the real romantics,” Will said, just before downing the rest of his beer and burping.

      “But you know what Adam said when God gave him Eve,” Colton put in with a smile. “Thank you, Lord. She’s way better than apples!”