32. Bridget
CHAPTER 32
Bridget
Exactly one week later, I hug the throw pillow against my chest as Becka settles in next to me on the couch, spoon in hand.
“Here, try this.” She shoves her spoon in my mouth quicker than I can consent to the frozen dairy being forced upon me.
“What the fuck?” I complain through a mouthful of ice cream.
“It’s delicious, isn’t it?”
“It’s actually really good, but I would’ve liked a choice in the consumption. I can’t place the flavor. What is it?” I question as I reach for the container to look at the label.
“It’s my own concoction. I mix some peach Moscato into my vanilla for a boozy milkshake.”
“Why the fuck do we keep meeting for coffee to chat when this is an option?”
“Fuck if I know.” She shovels another spoonful into her mouth. “Oh, that’s right, you’re a workaholic with a busy schedule, and until recently, your nights were booked with a certain sous chef.”
“Fuck. Hand it over. I’m going to need more if we’re jumping into this.”
“Can I tell you a story?”
“Anything to take my mind off of the shitshow that is my life.”
“Robert is the only man I’ve ever been with. He was my college sweetheart, and we were young when we got married. I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed, and so has he. I had to learn how to grow as a person while I was with someone else, and along with that came the very real possibility that while I was growing, we could grow apart. He’s the only person I truly trust with my heart and my body, but lately I worry that I’m not enough for him.”
I touch her shoulder in comfort as confusion etches her features. “This is new,” she says.
“What is?” I ask curiously.
“You’re touching me. Normally, I’m the one hugging you against your will.”
Shit, she’s right. I start to pull my hand back when hers covers it before I can retreat. “I like Ethan for you, Bridget. I’ve seen a transformation in you. You seem happier, more at ease, more yourself. I’m glad you let someone in.”
“Fuck all good it did me when we can’t be together.”
“Who says you can’t? As awkward as I’m sure this situation is, I doubt Ethan would walk away. But lemme guess, you did.”
“I literally ran away from the house. I may have left my jacket there.”
“Which one?”
“The black suede one.”
“The biker one, with the belt?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck you, that’s my jacket!”
“Oh shit, I forgot you let me borrow that.”
“Yeah, well, it was like three years ago, and it looked better on you anyway. Now I guess it’s Ashley’s turn to enjoy it.” She pushes my shoulder playfully, and I’m thankful for her ability to bring levity to any situation. “I got that jacket at a point in my life when I was still figuring out who I was as a wife and a mother. Maybe it came to you at a time when you needed it most, and now it can move on to bless some other broken individual.”
“It’s not a magical pair of pants that bonds us into a sisterhood, it’s a jacket. And I doubt Ashley needs it. She’s happily married to Hank,” I say with an eye roll as I shove another serving of boozy ice cream into my mouth.
“Okay, tell me more about that.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’ve met her before, and she’s lovely. Does it make me an asshole to say that she deserves better? They seem happy, but Henry—I mean, Hank—doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as her.”
“Maybe that’s your hurt talking?”
“Maybe. But how is it fair? Where the fuck is karma in all this? That asshole cheated on me, and yet he ends up with a wonderful wife, a bunch of kids, and a happy life. Why does he get happily ever after when I’ve been miserable because of him my whole life?”
Becka puts her ice cream down and looks me straight in the eye. “This might not be what you want to hear, but I think it’s what you need to hear. Bridget, you aren’t miserable because Hank cheated on you and broke your heart. You’re miserable because you’ve held on to that hurt your entire life. You’ve let that hurt make decisions that it had no right making for you.”
A sob bursts from my throat. “I don’t know how to let it go,” I cry. “How do I let it go?”
Becka wraps me up in a hug as I sob into the fabric of her shirt, staining it with my tears. “You choose yourself. Every day. All that hurt you feel means you lived. That you loved. But you have to learn from that pain and use it to help you grow. You experienced some traumatic shit in high school, finding out your ex cheated, knocked someone up, and none of your friends supported you. It’s no wonder you have trust issues. But you used that pain as a weapon to keep others away, thinking it would protect you from any future pain. And the thing is, we weren’t meant to live life alone. Why do you think I tried so hard to be your friend?”
I can’t help but lash out. “So, you took pity on me because you saw I was alone and had no one else?”
“I’m gonna let that one go since I know you’re hurting,” she chides as her hand rubs up and down my back as if to soothe the monster my emotions have become. “I chose you because I could tell you needed a friend, and I wanted to be that for you. You make me laugh. You make me think. You’re so fucking smart, and deep down, I knew you had a beautiful soul. Plus, you do my taxes,” she says, making me laugh. “I always felt like we were soulmates. And before you get all weird on me thinking I’m about to profess romantic feelings for you, I believe that someone can have multiple soulmates, but not all soulmates are romantic types of love. And you’re one of mine.”
“I kind of like that,” I say, pulling back and wiping my face.
“Of course you do. We’re soulmates. And I also think that Ethan’s soul is perfectly matched to yours in ways mine can’t be. I hope you can talk this through with him. But no matter what happens, please don’t shut the world out. I know you may not feel like it, but there are people in this world who love you and need you. Like me. I love you.”
Her words remind me of something Ethan told me when he was staying with me after surgery, how he needed to tell the people in his life that they were loved. It feels like the universe sent me two souls to heal my broken pieces. Two reminders that I’m loved.
“I love you too,” I whisper against her.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” She chuckles into my hair. “Also, how long is this hug? Ready for me to let go?”
“No, but I need to.” I release her.
“I do have one question for you that’s been eating away at me since you texted.”
Unsure where she’s going with this, I take a shaky breath. “Okay?”
“How did you never put it together? You’ve been intimate with both of them. You’re telling me there were no similarities?”
“I’m not comparing their dicks and bedroom moves with you. That’s weird as fuck.”
“Jeez, I’m not asking you to do that! But they have to look alike. That’s all I’m saying. You never looked at Ethan and thought he looked familiar?”
“Honestly, no. Ethan must take after his biological mother. Hank has blue eyes and blond hair. It must be where all Ethan’s sisters get their hair and eye color, but I’d never met them until that night. Now that I know who their dad is, I could see him in them, but not in Ethan. I’m sure I could find some similarities if I put them next to each other, but the thought of that…” I don’t even want to try to compare the amazing man I’m in love with to the asshole that created him.
Becka nods in understanding. “So, what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I don’t see a way that we could be together. I can’t let Hank back into my life. He’s a reminder of my past?—”
“He’s a reminder of who you were , not who you are . You’ve grown so much since he last knew you. Hell, you’ve grown so much just since you met Ethan.”
“But how would this even work? I’m not spending holidays around that man. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be comfortable being around him, and even though he hasn’t had the best relationship with his dad, Ethan shouldn’t have to choose between us.”
“For what it’s worth, he’d choose you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Ethan loves you more than anything.”
“But what if it’s not enough?”
“The way he loves you is more than enough. How did you leave things with him?”
“He came by after I ran out, but I made him leave. He packed a bag, and I haven’t talked to him since. He texts me every day, but I don’t reply. I told him I needed some time, but I’m struggling to see a way past this.”
“Take the time you need, but you should talk to him. Soon.”
I sigh and lean back against the couch. My body aches, and my exhaustion threatens to consume me. It’s amazing how deep emotions can wreak havoc on your body. It feels like I’ve had a hangover for a week straight.
Ethan’s face appears when I close my eyes, and it comforts me more than it should.