Chapter 19 #2
“I know. And it’s not fair, the way I assumed that.
I guess I got really good at predicting the sticky spots in my marriage—the things that would push buttons or cause a fight—and did whatever I could to avoid them and keep the peace.
It was wrong of me to apply that to my relationship with you.
You’ve never once tried to manage my time or tell me what to do. ”
I nodded, ignoring the ache that caused in my middle, the comparison to her ex.
But I understood. I knew there wasn’t a deceptive bone in her body.
The omission had been intentional but not malicious.
And I wasn’t the type of person who needed to know where she was at all times anyway.
I’d never understood couples like that. Why would you bother being in a relationship if you couldn’t trust someone?
It hurt that she hadn’t leaned on me, though. Knowing she’d been visiting a dying woman and bearing that burden alone made me wish she’d been comfortable enough to tell me.
The situation with Danny’s mother hadn’t affected me directly. Not really.
The guilt I’d been dealing with since Danny’s last visit to the bar reared its ugly head. That conversation had Bonnie stamped all over it, and I’d kept it from her, to protect myself, to extend my time with her.
“Danny came to see me at the bar,” I blurted in a fit of guilt.
Bonnie’s pain gave way to confusion. It was my turn to clutch her hand like a lifeline.
“He tried to warn me away from you,” I admitted.
“Talked a bunch of shit, but ultimately I think he realized that he”—I took a steadying breath—“he wants you back, Bonnie. He knows he fucked up, and it took knowing you were with someone else to get him to make a move. I know I should have told you, but I just . . . couldn’t. ”
I’d been selfish. Withholding that information had allowed me to keep her a little longer. Realizing she had the knowledge now, and the fear of what she’d do with it, had all my muscles going taut. It was like awaiting the executioner’s blade. It was only a matter of time.
“It’s okay, Jack. Knowing wouldn’t have changed anything.
Danny—he’s been texting and calling, trying to get in touch with me.
I’ve been ignoring him,” she rushed to add, and something in me went cold.
“But tonight, he chased me out to the parking lot and told me he’d made a mistake.
That he promised his mother before she died that he’d fix things between the two of us. That he wants me back.”
I slid my hand out of hers. “I see.”
Maybe Danny wasn’t as much of a coward as I’d assumed, if he’d been trying to pin her down for a while now. And of course, he was using his mother’s dying wish to his advantage. I shouldn’t be surprised. Cornering Bonnie when she was emotional and vulnerable.
I shook my head. “So that’s it, I guess.”
“What?” Bonnie asked, baffled.
“You get your life back,” I clarified.
“Are you serious right now? Why would I—how could I ever want that back?”
“The reasons you said. You didn’t want to start over and throw away the years you’d spent building a life, a family, a marriage.” The words came easily, like a pledge repeated over and over again. A reminder of why she and I were always going to be temporary.
“The really unhealthy marriage, where I was miserable and with someone who I’d grown apart from?” Bonnie’s eyes were bright and incredulous. “I don’t want Danny. I want you, Jack. How can you not see that?”
“But you said—”
“Months ago!” she exploded. “When I was drunk and vulnerable on the day my divorce was final. Are you holding me to that? After everything that’s happened with us? Opinions change. Feelings change. Time passes. I couldn’t possibly want him because I want you! I love you!”
For a moment, I let her declaration wash over me. The aching truth that this woman loved me back. That she could care about me that way. Like I might just be worth it.
I sucked in a breath and forced the knowledge away. It didn’t matter, I told myself as I took another deliberate inhale.
Chest heaving, I stared at her, knowing she wasn’t lying but still unable to accept it.
It was too much pressure for someone like me.
Being the undeserving asshole she wanted to give up everything for.
Her past and her potential future, with the person she’d already invested so much time and love in.
In the grand scheme of things, how could three months of whatever we had compare to a lifetime of what was in her heart?
She had connections and memories that I could never compete with. Hell, she had a whole other family who relied on her. One that still held her devotion and commitment. She was too good and kind to let her breakup with Danny impact her relationship with the Jensens.
I couldn’t give her anything like that. There was just me, and I . . . I wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth all that unwavering devotion that Bonnie seemed to wield so effortlessly. People didn’t stick around for me for a reason. I wasn’t enough. Bonnie just didn’t know it yet.
So I restacked my walls—the ones that had kept me protected for years—neatly into place and hardened my resolve. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” she asked.
“Don’t act like this is more than what it is. We’ve been casual.”
Bonnie laughed, the sound watery and disbelieving. “We’re together all the time. You’ve made sure you’ve been what I needed, every step of the way. You took me to meet your grandmother. You snuggle on the couch with my damn rabbit, Jack. And I’m in your bed every night.”
“That’s just sex,” I argued, ignoring the softball lodged in my throat.
Bonnie’s face paled, making the smeared makeup and red around her eyes more pronounced. The hurt and shock were plain enough to see, and I hated myself a little more.
But I kept going, trying to make her understand. Even if I couldn’t tell her I loved her, couldn’t confirm what she knew to be true, I would never hold her back. And that’s all loving me would do.
“You were just killing time, Bonnie. You’ve known all along that this wasn’t—wasn’t going to work. I’m not . . . whatever you’re looking for. I’m not husband material. I’m not Danny.”
“It turns out,” she replied quietly, “he wasn’t really husband material either.”
She wasn’t getting it, so I said, “You keep holding on to this idea of me that you had back in high school. Some teenage fantasy. But here’s the truth: If we had known each other back then, you would have tried to fix me.
You would have wanted to tutor me or help me with extra credit or try to convince me to stop skipping school.
But more than likely, I would have used you.
I would have talked you into doing my work for me.
I would have taken advantage of your kindness and your heart, and I would have ruined you.
Dragged you down with me. You would have hoped to change me.
And maybe you still do, if you’re sitting here telling me you love me.
That urge to fix me—to turn me into someone respectable, someone good enough for you—won’t go away.
And I refuse to be one more broken thing in your life that requires your attention. ”
I’d taken the wind out of her, but at least she didn’t look like she wanted to argue anymore, and I was grateful for that. Because I didn’t know how much longer I could sit here and wear her down. Parts of me were wearing away, too.
“I thought I had enough confidence or self-esteem or whatever to not even think about your ex,” I confessed, giving her something true. “But I can’t stand the thought of you comparing me to him. I don’t want to be anyone’s sloppy seconds or silver medal.”
Bonnie huffed a humorless laugh that had me stiffening.
“There is no comparison, Jack. I’m not lining up the two of you side by side and finding you lacking.
I couldn’t even if I wanted to. For me to compare you to him, I’d have to still want some part of him or miss him or see Danny as someone worth comparison.
And I don’t.” She smiled then, and it was heartbreaking.
“There’s only you and me, and the happiest I’ve been in my whole life. ”
“You’re lying to yourself,” I insisted. “And you’ll eventually regret it.” Regret me, I added silently. “You lie to yourself and everyone around you to keep the peace. You act like it’s your job to make everyone else happy. Do you even know what you really want, deep down?”
Bonnie frowned but didn’t speak.
I gritted my teeth and forced out, “That’s why I don’t want you to handle me.
To manage me and play peacemaker. I’d rather you get mad, get angry, or throw something.
Show a damn emotion for once—one that’s true, not something carefully calculated and stamped for approval and public consumption.
The perfect version you trot out for your family—even your sister.
You’re never going to be happy being yourself if you’re so worried about what other people think. ”
“And that’s what this is? Something true?
” she said, pointing in my direction. “Pretending you don’t care about me.
Pushing me away so you don’t have to deal with something real.
Because you don’t get involved, right? You’re not invested enough in anything to get hurt.
Not this town, not your bar, not your soccer team, and not me.
You’re just easygoing Jack. You and your motorcycle and a big fucking chip on your shoulder. Well, fine. Have it your way.”
I sat there as she scrambled off the couch and went to the front door.
Bonnie slipped her shoes on and grabbed her purse before whirling around, face pinched and angry. “You know, I’m sorry if you felt pressured by me. If I made you feel like I wanted more than you were willing to give. But I never thought—”
“Jesus Christ, stop apologizing,” I snapped. “I’m letting you down easy, and you’re fucking apologizing to me.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” With a disappointed shake of her head, she reached for the doorknob. “Got it. Message received.”
This time, the door rattled in the frame when it slammed behind her.
How painfully ironic that I’d baited her into standing up for herself, and she’d actually done it for once. I didn’t know whether to be proud or miserable.
It didn’t take long to figure it out. The longer I sat there, the heavier I felt. The weight of all the things I’d said tonight pressing down on me, burying me, drowning me in deep water.
I’d gotten what I wanted. Too bad it didn’t make accepting it any easier.