8. No Band-Aid Large Enough
8
NO BAND-AID LARGE ENOUGH
SUMMER
“T hat’s all your stuff.” I pointed to the box I’d filled with his cologne, razor, shaving cream, clothes, and condoms.
Yeah. Condoms. His . I wasn’t going to use an open box with a new lover. Hell no. I was going to break in a new box.
Sure, Summer, you’re gonna get a lover real soon . Your heart hurts. And all you want to do right now is crawl into Basil’s arms and ask him to hold you , so stop with the new lover nonsense. Also, the yeast infection, i.e. heartbreak, needs to pass!
The depressing truth was that I was hung up on this handsome man with his shaggy sexy hair, cute dimple (and I mean the cutest ), blue-blue eyes, and hands that were made to give a woman pleasure.
It had been four days since we broke up—and I counted the day we broke up as one of them. He’d sent me several text messages asking me how I was, if we could talk, if he could come over, blah, blah . I read each one about ten times before deleting them.
Being in love sucked big time when the person you fell in love with was a moron.
“I didn’t come for my things,” he whispered.
I stood behind the counter, which was an antique table that I had refurbished. It wasn’t much of a distance from him, but it was some, and thanks to the incense burning, I couldn’t smell his cologne. Small mercies . Not that it was much help because pathetic me had had a crying jag last night and then I sprayed his cologne on my sheets so I could pretend he was there. Oh, go ahead and judge me . I loved this man. Completely and totally. And he broke my heart and my soul… he broke me . It was so unfair because if he hadn’t we would’ve been so good together.
But the universe just liked shitting on me. No one gave me a damn chance. I didn’t get adopted. I didn’t get good foster parents. I didn’t get good boyfriends…well, until Basil, who I thought was awesome, and look how that turned out?
“Then why are you here?” I asked, tilting my head, letting my bitch out.
“We need to talk, baby.”
“ We do ?” I asked my voice dripping sarcasm.
He let out a ragged breath. “Sunshine, I?—”
The door jingled open and two women walked in.
Thank the Lord!
“Excuse me,” I said to him like he was a customer and welcomed the ladies.
They were older, probably in their sixties. One had silver-streaked hair piled into a loose bun, and the other wore a flowing linen dress that looked like she spent her summers in Provence. They immediately gravitated toward the handmade silk scarves displayed near the window, brushing their fingers over the delicate fabric.
“These are exquisite,” the bun-haired woman marveled, holding up a deep indigo scarf with golden swirls. “Hand-painted?”
“Yes.” I walked up to the display, holding my breath as I passed Basil so I wouldn’t smell him like a bitch in heat.
Jesus!
“A local artist hand-dyes and paints each one so every piece is unique.”
The other woman, the one in linen, held up a soft green silk scarf with a floral design. “I can’t decide—they’re all so beautiful.”
“That’s the best part.” I forced a smile, pretending Basil wasn’t standing behind me, watching, waiting . “No one else will ever have the same one. It’s almost haute couture .”
The women exchanged delighted looks, and after some debating and friendly bickering over who got what, they each picked one.
As I rang them up, Basil’s phone dinged again. He didn’t check who messaged. He just stood, silent, patient—annoying the hell out of me.
I narrowed my eyes. “You should probably get that.”
He didn’t move.
“Might be Drew,” I added, my voice saccharine sweet. “Wouldn’t want to leave your COO waiting.”
I shoved the receipts into the shopping bag and handed it over. “Thank you so much. I hope I’ll see you again, soon.”
The women, blissfully unaware of the bitterness lacing my words, grinned. “Oh, we’ll be back.”
They left excited with their scarves in hand. The bell jingled behind them.
And then it was just us .
I wasn’t going to wait for him to talk. Oh no! I had shit to do. I walked back to the scarf display to set it right, and that’s when I felt him behind me. His arms came around my waist, and his chin rested on my shoulder.
“Baby, I fucked up.”
I stood still. The air shifted, heavier now, and the scent of lavender and sandalwood from my incense was not able to drown out his , the one I craved.
He brushed his lips against my skin. I controlled a shiver as the excitement I always felt when I was close to him pervaded my senses. It wasn’t just sexual, it was emotional—and since my feelings were bordering on rage, I wasn’t feeling particularly carnal.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to listen to you.” His lips brushed against my ear. “I believe you.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “What is it that you believe?”
“How my friends are toxic. How Drew and I behaved inappropriately. All of it.”
I felt tremendously sad because it was. He listened to me now after I left, but not before, which made his reasons for trusting me suspect. “ Whatever ,” I muttered, aware that I sounded like a teenager.
“Sunshine—”
“Stop, Basil. Just stop .” I felt tears prick my eyes. “You said I didn’t have a spine.” His words, the look of disgust on his face, all of it came rushing back.
“I was wrong.” His voice was raw, like he’d been carrying these words in his soul. “I was so fucking wrong. Please forgive me.”
I never wanted to hurt Basil, ever . But I had to be honest with myself and him. “I’m sorry, Basil but I’m fresh out of forgiveness. I’ve got nothing to give. I’m all out.”
He nuzzled my neck. “No, baby, you’re not. I know you’re not and?—”
“You broke me .”
I felt him shudder. “ God ! Sunshine, I’d take it all back.”
“Life doesn’t work that way.” I relaxed my body and let myself enjoy the last time his arms were around me. Someday, I wanted to look back at us with a smile, and that required me to let the bitterness and anger go.
He kissed my neck again. “I miss you so fucking much.”
I missed him, too, so fucking much, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t put myself in a situation where there was guaranteed pain. I’d had enough for a lifetime growing up the way I had.
“I love you, Summer.” His lips brushed against my ear.
I clenched my jaw.
“I love you,” he repeated. “I was an idiot, I know. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
“I don’t want you to make it right, Basil.” My voice was cold, even as my heart screamed at me to soften.
His body tightened like he was bracing himself. I had to step away from him, I had to create distance between us. I had to…protect myself. But I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to let go of him—of who I thought was my last chance at happiness. Pathetic!
“I accept your apology, but it doesn’t change a thing.” My throat burned, but I kept going. “You treated me like I was an insecure, whiny distraction. You accused me of judging you and your friends, but I never did.”
His breath hitched. “You love me, Sunshine. I know you do.”
He was making this so difficult. I wanted to turn into his arms and let him hold me, to erase years of being alone, to finally have someone on my team. But he wasn’t with me or for me. He’d proven that.
“My whole life I have loved people who haven’t loved me back. My whole fucking life, Basil. I thought….” Tears began to fall, and I couldn’t stop them. “I thought you were the one who’d be with me, for me.”
“I am,” he insisted.
“No,” I moaned. “No,” I echoed on a whisper.
Now, I did step away from him, and he let me.
I sniffled and turned to face him, hated the agony in his eyes. I didn’t want him to hurt. I loved him, and it sucked to see him like this. There was no sense of vindication, no oh now he feels how I did . Love didn’t work that way.
“You didn’t fight for us . You didn’t fight for me .”
He closed his eyes briefly and then laid himself bare to me. “I know, and I hate myself for it. Summer, give me a chance and?—”
“I’m a foster kid, Basil,” I cut him off, my voice quiet, but still landing like a hammer between us. “I can’t give second chances. I trust with a great deal of difficulty, and I will never trust you again.”
His eyes went glassy, rimmed with unshed tears.
“Go, be happy. And let me be happy, too.” I blew out a breath and gave him a travesty of a smile. “You weren’t happy with me.”
His face crumpled. “I’ve never been happier than when I was with you. Never . Losing you is like a fucking throbbing wound that won’t stop bleeding no matter what I do.”
He cupped my cheek and wiped tears away with a thumb. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you. We didn’t deserve how I didn’t protect us .”
I stepped back. He dropped his hand.
“And now, it’s done.”
A broken inhale slipped past his lips and then he gave me a sad smile. “I don’t think so, baby. We’ll never be done. What we have is special.”
“Is it?” I sobbed softly, my chest heaving with emotion. “You didn’t act like it was. If you can only see the value of something once you lose it, then you don’t deserve to get back what you lost.”
“You do if you work hard to deserve it.” He reached for me, just the barest movement, but I backed away once more.
I walked to the counter, he followed me. I grabbed the box of his things, and shoved it into his arms.
“That’s all your stuff.” I couldn’t keep the tremor or the tears out of my voice. But what was there to hide? I was heartbroken, that was no secret.
He hesitated, gripping the box so tight his knuckles turned white.
“Now, go,” I urged.
He studied me for a long moment and then finally nodded. “Okay, Sunshine.”
He walked slowly to the front door but when he reached it, he looked back, his expression wrecked, his voice thick. “I’ll do whatever it takes to deserve you, Sunshine. That’s a promise. I’m not letting you go, baby. I’m not letting us go.”
With that he left, and I crumpled to the floor and cried until I ran out of tears.