54. Ana
CHAPTER 54
ANA
M y friend is at my side in an instant, rubbing my back and urging me to let it all out. She brings a box of tissues over, and patiently lets me cry.
It turns out I had a lot of pent-up emotion inside.
“Where are Stella and Jessie?” The little girl’s been through enough lately; I don’t want her to have to wonder why her auntie is crying.
“They’re at the library. Do you want to talk about things?”
“I don’t know. I guess so. …I don’t even know where to start.”
“Are you feeling sad?”
It turns out to be surprisingly hard to put a label on how I’m feeling. Eventually, I say, “Yeah, that’s part of it.”
“What is it that’s making you sad?”
“I miss them … even though I don’t think I should mi ss them. I’m sad at the potential of what could be, but probably never will be.”
Marissa’s still rubbing my back. “What do you mean?”
“When things started, it was just sex, and that was one hundred percent okay with me.”
“I remember,” she says with a grin. “The best sex ever, so much sex.”
Her teasing brings a small smile out of me, making it easier to continue. “They were completely unsuitable for anything more. They were uncommunicative, cold to me when we weren’t having sex, just generally unpleasant. Not at all like men I’d actually fall for.”
Gently, she says, “But you did.”
I nod. “But I think I was projecting things onto them. Noticing every tiny bit of positive behavior and attaching meaning to it, envisioning them like book boyfriends, who’d fulfill my every need in the bedroom and out.”
“You idealized them?”
“I fell hard for them, without even wanting to, and before I even realized it was happening. Then just as I was about to confess to them how I was feeling, the veil slipped away, and they were again the hard, unyielding, bossy … jerks that they were in the beginning. I can’t even figure out what’s real anymore. ”
“People are complicated.” We’re both quiet for a minute, then she asks, “What is it that you’d want, in an ideal world?”
If I think too hard about this, I’ll continue to go in circles, so I try to express what’s in my heart. “I care about them. I want to be with them. They’re a part of me now, but I won’t be treated the way they treat me.”
“Have they apologized?”
“Not directly. It’s been more action than words, with all this help they’ve given for Stella and Jessie. They also apologized to the person they fired and they talked him into keeping his job.”
“Actions are important.”
“Yeah, they’ve never been great with words. That’s been pretty consistent.”
“It seems like they care about you, even if they might not know how to express it. Do you think you could talk to them about what you want and need from them, and see if they’re willing to give that to you?”
“Maybe … once I figure that out for myself.”
Marissa chuckles softly. “You’re so good at helping others find the right path for themselves, both at work and with your friends. Isn’t it funny how you don’t know what you want your own path to be?”
When Stella and Jessie get home, Stella has a shipping box in her arms that appears to be heavy, based on her posture. “Delivery for you, Ana.”
She hands it off to me, and it weighs even more than I anticipated. It’s definitely not lingerie, but I take it to my room for privacy, just in case, especially since we have a young person living with us now.
I peel off the strip of packing tape on the top and open it to find two stacks of paperback books. Most of the covers are dark and feature shirtless men and beautiful women. A few are brightly colored with illustrated figures. All of the books are romance.
There’s no note, but there’s also no mystery about the sender, either.
I spread the books on my floor and search for a shared theme—Multiple partners? Office romance? Domineering men?—but I don’t see any commonalities. Several are new releases, and all of them are new to me.
I haven’t been in the mood to read lately, partly because I’m missing Derek and Jansen, and partly because I’m not sure how I feel about love at the moment, but this is still one of the best gifts someone could give me.
I send a text to both of them: “Thank you for the books.” I’m about to tell them they don’t need to send gifts, but a reply comes through before I can add to my message.
“Will you come for a walk with us this evening?” Derek writes.
“A walk?”
“We’d like to talk to you. Thought we could walk around your neighborhood. But we’d like to take you to dinner if you prefer.”
“A walk would be good.” Taking a stroll around the block is another one of those normal, everyday things that I don’t picture these high-powered, busy men ever doing.
We make arrangements on the time, then I go take a shower and hope that warm water and peppermint body wash will somehow bring me clarity.
When Derek and Jansen arrive, I’m wearing my new coffee t-shirt, which draws prolonged looks from both of them.
“Nice shirt,” Derek says, and I give him a knowing smile.
Derek makes small talk with Marissa, Stella, and Jessie, and Jansen even joins in a couple of times, crouching down to see Jessie eye-to-eye when he speaks to her.
Jessie seems to love both of the men, and we get a clue about the reason when she asks, “Did you bring any snacks? ”
Stella shakes her head at her daughter. “Jessie, that’s not an appropriate question.”
“But they get good snacks, Mommy.”
Though Stella only let her have one that first late night, Jessie was allowed to have a couple of the sweet treats that were left over from the road trip the next day, and she hasn’t forgotten.
“We don’t have any tonight, but next time we come, we’ll be sure to bring some,” Derek says. “Which were your favorite?”
“The pink animal cookies!” She does one of her ballerina spins to show her enthusiasm, and all of us are smiling, even Jansen.
As we’re about to head out, Jansen stops me at the door. “Do you have a jacket? It’s cool out tonight.”
I grab one from my closet and return, and then we’re on our way.
As we approach the sidewalk, Derek says, “I saw that there’s a park nearby. Want to walk there?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Sure.”
The men are in their casual Friday clothing, which means jeans for both of them, a long-sleeve pullover for Jansen, and a t-shirt and zippered hoodie for Derek. Their bodies make me ache, but it’s their faces that interest me most. They’re gorgeous as always, but not as vibrant as they usually are. Their eyes hold hurt and regret .
“I hope you didn’t already have any of those books,” Derek says.
“I didn’t. Thanks.” It’s so odd to be out walking in public with them, when we only used to see each other either at the office or at Derek’s house.
“That’s good,” he says. “What are you reading lately?”
“I …haven’t been reading much lately.” This remark earns me two concerned looks from either side of me that I pretend not to notice.
“Are you going to ask us what we’re reading?” Jansen asks as we reach the corner.
Laughing, I say, “Financial reports, I’m sure.”
He arches a brow, and gives me a hint of a grin that does funny things inside my chest. “Actually, we’ve been reading a romance about two foolish men who meet the love of their life but somehow manage to fuck it all up.”