Page 52 of So Much More
I don’t know how the last-name conversation went down between Melissa and her, but I can guarantee she’s now replaying it in her mind.
To my surprise, she says, “Thank you for doing that.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry I messed it up to begin with.”
“I’m not going to blame that one on you,” she says. “Anybody could have made the alarm mistake. I’ve done it myself a few times, stone cold sober. I forgive you for that.”
I close my eyes and let out a long breath. “You do?”
“I’m not a monster.” She now sounds exasperated, which is a step up from disappointment. “I can understand when people make an honest mistake.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing,” she snaps. “I know you’re sorry for all of it. I know you didn’t intend for any of this to happen, but it did, and what happened Friday nightisyour fault. There’s no amount of apologies on your part or understanding on my part that can change that.”
Feisty Wendy has finally returned, much to my relief.
“So where do we go from here?” I ask.
“We go back to being friends.”
Her voice is filled with enough confidence I don’t doubt her decision, and my heart drops to my knees. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I guess I was holding on to too much hope after all. At least she still wants to be friends, though. That might give me a chance to eventually win her over again.
“Okay,” I say, because there’s no good alternative to agreeing.
“And by friends, I mean the way we were before the cuddling. There will be no more of that.”
“I assumed as much.” Although my arms feel achingly empty at the thought of not holding her again.
“And no more cute nicknames or banter or any of the rest of it.”
My heart has now exited through my toes and no longer exists within my body. There’s a gaping hole where it used to reside, and it’s completely my fault.
twenty-two
Iwish Randall would at least try to argue with me about where we go from here. I suddenly realize I want him to fight for us, but I don’t think he’s going to, and that makes my chest hurt. I don’t want this to be over. He has valid reasons for why he did what he did, even though I hate some of those reasons and it’ll be a while before I can get the image of him kissing Tammy out of my mind.
Because of that, I’m not going to let us go right back to where we were. I need some time to make sure neither of us is going to revert to our old habits, and I need to make sure I can truly forgive him for kissing another woman. But I also need him to forgive himself and to want us to work this out.
He asks, “Is there a possibility we could be more than friends again someday, or have I blown that chance?”
The tightness in my chest loosens a bit. “I have a question that might help me answer that.”
“I’ll answer anything you want to ask.”
“Is this a pattern with you? Do you routinely make big mistakes like this with women? Because if you do, my response to you is no, we’ll never be more than friends. I can’t live my life wondering when you’re going to break my heart again. But if you can honestly say this was a fluke and you don’t make a habit of messing up your relationships like this, we can maybe someday get back to where we were. Maybe.”
“Well, I do mess relationships up,” he says, “like I’ve told you, but not like this. I’ve never cheated—not even a kiss. I’ve never done anything like this before. And I’m going to try to prevent anything similar from ever happening again by not drinking alcohol anymore.”
“That’s a good start. And if you want to try to get back to where we were, you have to be yourself in the process. Make the decisions and do the things and say the words that are true to who you are and who you want to become. Don’t do any of it simply because you think it’s what I want or because you think it’ll win me back. I’m not saying you should never sacrifice or compromise or do things that will make me happy even if they don’t particularly make you happy, because those are important aspects of a relationship. But don’t become someone you’re not or fall back into letting other people’s wants and needs control you, Randall. Please.”
He’s silent for several seconds before saying, “I’ll be myself. I promise. And if you want me to be me, then you need to compromise on the banter. I can’t be myself with you without it.”
My heart rate increases enough to confirm I want the banter. “Okay.”
“I also need you to do something for me.”
“What’s that?”
