Chapter Seventeen
Charlie
Sydney and I decide to have our discussion at a nearby café.
All she said as we drove over is that she has thoughts on me and Ruby, but it’s enough to make my stomach clench. I can handle anything except Sydney telling me to give up, and I’m worried that’s what she’s about to tell me.
I order the biggest burger on the menu. I need red meat to trigger my manly courage for this talk.
“Lay it on me,” I tell her when we choose a table. “Might as well get this over with.”
She stirs her drink, her expression thoughtful. “I’m still onboard if you want to keep going with this plan.”
I raise my eyebrows. “But you think I shouldn’t?”
“My opinion is evolving. I didn’t realize how deep your friendship with Ruby runs until these dates. You guys have whole conversations with a look, and you don’t even know you’re doing it. That’s a bestie thing.”
“Are you telling me to appreciate it for what it is and give up on the idea of more?”
Our food arrives, and she answers once the runner leaves.
“No, I don’t think so,” she says. “But tell me again why you don’t confess?”
“Aren’t you bored yet?”
“Glad to have something to think about besides the wreckage of my own love life.” Her tone is dry but there’s sadness in her eyes.
“I’d like to hear your story.”
She shakes her head. “I’m so sick of living it that I don’t want to talk about it. It’s fine. Let me revel in your problems so I can ignore mine.”
I give a small laugh. “How do you keep making me feel like I’m doing you a favor when you are the real hero here?”
“Believe me, this is good for me. So we were about to go deep on why you don’t have a talk with Ruby.”
“You mean ruin the friendship?” I ask, referencing the most-played song on my “Gems” list the last two weeks.
“It is Miss Taylor’s whole point in that song. Confess or regret.”
“Ruby calls herself a serial monogamist. One long-term relationship after the next with almost no downtime in between. She’s been like that since high school.”
“Daddy issues?” Sydney asks.
“The opposite.”
“Mommy issues?”
“No, I mean that she has a good relationship with both of her parents. She has four older brothers. They’re all tight.
I’ve been around them a lot, and her parents have the kind of marriage I think most people want when they think about marriage.
Being in a relationship is comfortable for Ruby.
She likes having someone to fuss over and do things with.
That’s what stability and connection look like to her. ”
“That sounds healthy, though. What am I missing?”
“She doesn’t do alone time. She was in a relationship with her ex for five years because being with the wrong person was more comfortable for her than not having a boyfriend.”
“She told you this?”
“More or less.”
“What did you tell me before? You think she’ll pick you because you’re there?”
“Yeah. Autopilot.”
She takes a bite of her salad, considering all this. “People say that the most successful relationships are built on friendships. Wouldn’t that apply here?”
“That’s great, but I want so much more than that.”
Sydney takes a sip of her iced tea and grins. “Fireworks?”
I make an explosion gesture with my hands.
Her smile dims. “You can get burned. Chemistry isn’t everything.”
“I have got to hear your tale of woe,” I say.
“You really don’t. Call me Ophelia, because you’ve heard it all before. Let’s stick with your story. As far as chemistry, wouldn’t you know if you have it?”
“I do know. We do have it. I don’t know if she recognizes it for what it is.”
“What are you waiting for her to do or say so you know she loves you? That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it? Love?”
I’m not going to say aloud that I’m in love with Ruby, because I want to say those words to her first, not to Sydney about Ruby. But yeah. We’re talking about love. I nod.
“Explain to me how this works. What’s the sign?”
Pushing me up against a wall because she suddenly discovers her pyromania and needs those fireworks would work. “I’ll know it when I see it.”
She sets down her fork and gives me her full attention. “Are you sure you aren’t scared of rejection? That would be an extremely normal thing to feel.”
“Of course I am. But I’m way more worried about one day both of us realizing I was never what she wanted. Not for life.”
“For life.” Sydney repeats it softly, and the sadness flickers in her eyes again. “Last question: what if you did tell her how you feel, and she’s like, ‘Charlie, you’re so sweet, but I only see you as a friend.’ You act like that’s not a possibility.”
“It could happen.”
“And if it did, does your friendship survive? Because it sounds like it would break your heart. Or your ego. Plenty of men don’t come back from that. Are you one of them?”
I suspect I’ve gotten a hint of her relationship story. “We’d still be friends.”
What other answer is there? I can’t picture a future anymore where there isn’t some version of Charlie and Ruby.
“You think if you set this huge thing between you, and you press the green button and she presses the red one, you still have a way forward? I’m willing to give you my opinion on what to do next, but I need to understand exactly where your head is at.” Her intensity makes the café noise fade.
“That would be hard,” I admit. “Harder than I can imagine. It would take me a while. Probably until she found someone who I could see is even better for her than I am. That would close the door. Then I could be her friend.”
“That would be enough?” Sydney asks. “You’re sure?”
“The only outcome I can’t deal with is one without Ruby at all. So yes. It would be enough. Eventually.” Even as I say it, I feel how heavy, how long eventually will be.
She rests her chin in her hand. “I believe you, so my advice is that this is too important for less than total honesty. There are so many ways this can go wrong while you wait for everything to come together perfectly, too many ways it could make it hard for you to stay friends. You have to tell her.”
I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with the warning. “And risk our friendship for maybe?”
“If you tell her, you might ruin the friendship. But if you don’t, you definitely will. It’s already changing. Not telling her, it’s going to get corrosive.”
Despite eating most of my burger, a hollow feeling opens in my stomach. “You think she’s not feeling me that way.”
She’s already shaking her head. “I don’t know.
I don’t think she sees you that way yet.
What I know for sure is that what I see between you two is real.
If it’s meant to be love, it will go that way inevitably.
But if it’s not, and you want to keep this thing you have now, you have to keep it healthy. And that means telling her.”
The hollow inside me grows bigger and emptier. I won’t be eating the rest of my burger. The idea makes me feel vaguely carsick. Which is, coincidentally, how loving Ruby feels right now.
“You okay?” Sydney asks.
I muster a smile. “Whoever broke your heart is an idiot.”
She points to me. Bingo.
“A really big idiot.”
She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “Broken people break hearts. I’m trying not to get broken too. Or break you by sending you out with bad advice.”
“I won’t break. My heart might, but you’re right about what I need to do.” I massage my temples, trying to wrap my head around that. “You should be a therapist.”
“Can’t. I’m moving to Dallas for law school in the fall.”
“All right, Sydney.” It’s a quiet cheer, full of admiration.
“It was the biggest distraction I could think of.” Her smile is tired. “But this one has been pretty good, and I’m staying all the way invested. You’ll tell her? Give yourself a chance at the best outcome?”
The hollow feeling hasn’t changed because the part of me that loves Ruby best, that knows her as well as I know myself, already knows the outcome.
And I wish it didn’t.