A wound that’s never healed.
I thought enough time had passed, but I was wrong. Terribly, horribly, unequivocally wrong.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab my phone from the nightstand. I open up my texts, prepared to do what I should have done three years ago. My fingers hover over the screen as memories of that night invade my senses.
I remember everything. The black dress with the thigh-high slit that made my mouth go dry. Long onyx hair draped in waves down the bare skin of her back. The fire in her eyes right before I kissed her. And the hurt that replaced it when I made the worst decision of my life and walked away.
I need to make things right, but not like this. She deserves more than an apology text. Instead, I start small.
Me
It was good seeing you tonight, Gretch.
My pulse soars as I hitsend.It’s only then that I look up and see our last text exchange from the day before Drew’s wedding. Shame clouds my vision. Glutton for punishment, I scroll up. Guilt shreds my heart on-site with each downward swipe of my thumb. A year’s worth of texts. A year that felt like the start of what I hoped would beeverything. Until it became the end neither of us wanted.
I wait several minutes for three little dots that never come.
An hour and a half later, my phone pings. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I swipe the screen to life.
Gretchen
You too.
It’s fewer words than I had hoped for, but it’s a start.
Two weeks have passedsince I texted Gretchen. I haven’t reached out again. I respect Lauren too much to be texting Gretchen while I try to figure out what to do about our relationship.
Lauren and I have continued on like normal. We’ve gone out to dinner a few times, including a double date with Drew and Reagan. She’s been at my place in the evenings, where we’ve ordered takeout and binged Netflix like we always do. We’ve slept over at each other’s places several times, but neither of us has initiated sex. I was too tired some nights, we were both exhausted others.
Through every moment spent together and apart, I’ve tried to remember all that’s great between us, to look past my reservations over marrying her. I’ve told myself that our issues are all in my head. I’ve imagined what a life with Lauren would look like and, honestly, it’s a great life. There’s a nice home, a few kids, and a woman who’s an amazing mom and a supportive, faithful partner.
But, in all the visions of our possible future, I don’t see a woman that I’m madly in love with.
I love Lauren. But I’m notinlove with her. It’s a reality I should have faced a long time ago. Instead, I’ve tried to will the puzzle pieces to fit, hoping that someday things would click and we’d make sense.
Except, theclicknever came.
I can’t ignore it anymore. The denial I’ve been living in, the issues I’ve made excuses for in the name ofbut she’s such a good person, have only served to give her a false hope of a forever together. That’s not fair to her.
Approaching the restaurant where we’re meeting for lunch, I spot Lauren through the glass windows. I bypass the hostess and head straight to the table. When her smile rises to greet me, the paralyzing guilt rushes in and it almost—almost—convinces me to scrap this whole plan.
I don’t want to hurt her. But if I don’t end things now, I think I’ll live to regret it.
Chapter Four
HOT. MESS.
Gretchen
If avoiding my parents’inquiries into my life plans was a competition, I’d be the reigning champion. Deflection and avoidance is the name of the game.
When the subject of Sedona comes up, I play along for a bit, but as the questions pile up and the risk of me losing track of my half-truths and straight-up lies becomes too much, I change the subject.
Then there’s the matter of my relocation back to New York. They’re my parents, so of course they have questions.What jobs am I applying for? Where will I live?
My former boss from my spring internship at Saks, Monica, promised to let me know if a position opens up that I could apply for, but that’s about as much effort as I’ve put into my post-college career plans. Instead, I’ve poured all my focus—and funds—into this trip.
If Mom and Dad have noticed I’ve been avoiding them, they’ve had the decency not to let on. Lucky for me, they leave for Italy in a few hours.
