Chapter 22
My phone buzzes. I lie there for a moment, debating whether or not I want to see who messaged me. What if it’s Matt saying that he’s right outside my bedroom door, waiting to kiss me again? If his kiss is a repeat of the elevator fiasco, then I’m all in. A person only has so much willpower.
Since it’s likely not Matt, I lift my head and read the screen.
Chelsea: So how did it go with Matt today?
I grimace.
Remi: We just kissed/made out in the elevator.
Chelsea: What?
Chelsea: I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist his charms.
I move to a sitting position, feeling like I can defend myself better and more efficiently if I’m upright.
Remi: Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not jump to conclusions. He’s the one that kissed me.
Chelsea: Did you kiss him back?
My hands may have roamed over his back. My fingers might have skimmed across the base of his neck. At one point, my leg could have lifted and wrapped around him. But who’s keeping track of all that? They’re just technicalities.
Remi: I didn’t stand there like a statue if that’s what you’re asking.
Chelsea: Oh, Remi. Maybe it’s time to talk to him. Like really talk to him. Tell him your fears.
I bite my lip, trying to stop my emotions from gaining life.
Remi: I don’t know what to say.
Chelsea: Tell him you started going to counseling. Tell him you’re working on all of your trust issues. Tell him you’re ready to commit if he is.
Remi: Maybe I’m not ready to commit. Maybe I’m better off alone.
My mind repeats all the insecurities I’ve struggled with my entire life.
I spent my childhood alone.
I’m supposed to continue the trend through adulthood.
I’m broken.
I’ve never been enough for anyone.
Matt deserves something better.
Chelsea: No one is better off alone. Don’t let your past with your mom rob you of your future with Matt. He’s a great guy. You need to trust that he won’t leave you like your mom did.
Tears fill my eyes.
Remi: There’s no way you can know that.
Chelsea: Love is about having faith in the other person. Have a little faith in him.
I throw my body back against the bed and pull the sheets over me. Matt never let me down once in the two years I’d been with him. I do trust him. Maybe it’s me I don’t trust. Deep down, maybe I’m afraid that one day, ten years from now, I’ll wake up and bolt just like my mom did.