Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cali’s lying above Jaeger on the couch like he is the couch when I open the front door.
She smiles briefly from her cozy spot on top of her boyfriend and then her eyes widen. “What’s wrong?” She pops up and Jaeger sits up beneath her, turning down the volume on the television.
“You were right.” I dump my purse on the kitchen counter and open the fridge, wonder what I’m doing because the thought of food makes me nauseated, and slam it shut.
Cali stands next to the counter, arms loose at her sides. Jaeger stares from the edge of the couch, his face tense with concern.
“I saw them together.”
Cali’s eyes scrunch in confusion. “Who?”
“Lewis and Mira.”
“You saw them—having sex?”
“What? No. They were hanging out, but he kept so much from me. He’s been lying to me—omitting—I don’t know. Nessa told me Mira is wanted by some loan shark. When Lewis didn’t call, I went over.”
“Mira is what?” Cali glances at Jaeger. “Gen, what are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”
Cali’s confused. I’m confused.
What I saw didn’t look like a woman with debt and stress. And Lewis didn’t seem like he was worried for her. They appeared as if everything was okay. But if things are okay, why hasn’t he been by? What happened to us?
“Did you talk to him?”
“No. I ran.”
Cali sighs deeply.
I brush off her censure. “You said so yourself, I should stay away from him. I’ll never be as important to him as she is.”
She leans her hip against the counter. “We’ve established that I don’t know as much as I think I do when it comes to relationships.”
“You picked Jaeger, and he’s the ideal boyfriend.”
“Thanks, Gen.” Jaeger grins from the couch.
Cali shakes her head at him. “Not helping.” She turns to me.
“I got it right with Jaeger, but not before deep soul-searching and a painful learning curve. Look, Gen, I was wrong to get involved in your love life and to tell you who to date. Please don’t think I know what’s best. Talk to Lewis.
Find out the truth before you ruin something that could be good. ”
“Now he’s good for me?”
She shrugs. “Well, I didn’t understand his thing with Mira at first, but he seems committed to you.”
“No, he never settles down. This won’t work.”
“You said he called you his girlfriend. If he doesn’t settle down, why would he do that? Lewis doesn’t come across as insincere.”
I clench my teeth. I have no answer for that and I’m not ready to see reason, even if what she says makes sense. He could have called and told me he was having dinner with Mira—to support her, or whatever—but he didn’t. He left me on the outside, figuratively. Literally.
He’s a good guy, this person who’s there for his friends and who’s a hard worker. But in the end, what’s left for a relationship? What’s left for me?
Not enough.
Cali reaches out, but I need space. I shake my head and walk past her into the bedroom—to find my mom asleep in my bed.
I curse under my breath. I’m having a crisis, so of course my mother is here to add to the burden.
After changing quietly, I ease under the covers, trying to get my breathing to calm and my mind to stop spinning. Tears sneak out and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Lewis cares for me, I know he does, but it hurts to be left on the outside. I don’t want to feel guilty or wrong for wanting more than he seems willing to give. Yet I love him and I don’t want to let him go.
It’s all so complicated.
My mother touches my arm. She scoots closer and I quickly wipe my face. “What happened?” she asks in a voice more awake than I expected.
“Nothing.”
“Gen, don’t shut me out because I made a mistake. It was a large one, granted, but I’m always here for you. I’m in this lumpy, cramped bed with godawful sheets. If that’s not a testament to love, I don’t know what is.”
I chuckle. She’s right. For her, this is roughing it. “I picked the wrong guy. Again.”
“You care for him?”
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m working too hard at ignoring the pain in my abdomen.
My mother sighs and curls around me. I fall asleep like that, embraced by her. It’s the first time in a very long time she’s given me unsolicited, nonjudgmental comfort—and I need it.
A sound disrupts my sleep. It takes me a minute to figure out where I am. I glance at my mom lying next to me. She makes a mewing sound and rolls in her sleep, taking the covers with her. It must have been her snoring that woke me.
I close my eyes and turn on my side, but the sound comes again. A tapping—not my mother. From the window?
What the hell?
I crawl out of bed and pull aside the drape. Lewis is standing outside the window.
He points to the front door and I nod.
I grab a sweatshirt and quietly exit the room. The house is dead silent. I have no idea what time it is, but it must be after one in the morning because no one’s awake, not even Tyler, and he stays up late.
I unbolt the lock and open the door. Lewis is leaning against the porch post, his gaze on me. My stomach flutters.
This reaction to him has always been a nuisance, and now is no different. “Hey.”
He angles closer. “What happened earlier?”
I wrap my arms around my waist. “We haven’t seen each other in several days. I went to check on you. I got your address from Nessa because you never told me where you live.”
He actually appears confused by this. “I guess we’ve been busy… and I like coming here.”
I look around. “You prefer my ten-by-ten shack the nineteen-seventies threw up on to your centerfold cabin in the woods?”
He shrugs. “You’re here. I don’t notice much else. We’ll go to my place, I just—” He steps forward and I inch back. His brow furrows. “Gen, what’s going on? You seem upset. Earlier—why did you leave without coming inside?”
Obviously, I made a racket tripping over the patio furniture. “And ruin your moment?”
“What—Mira?” He glares at the sky. “She was visiting, that’s all. There’s never been anything there.”
I sigh and soften my voice. “I know you’re not cheating. I mean, my first impression was a knee-jerk reaction in that direction, but that’s not really what I believe.”
I attempt to put together the jumble of thoughts running through my mind. “You’re tethered to Mira, unable to do anything that might disrupt her peace of mind. You get a girlfriend for the first time in years and Mira self-destructs, then you drop everything to rescue her.”
“Mira needs me,” he says.
I’m charging down a path that could sever things forever, but I can’t back down because the way things stand aren’t working for me—and because someone needs to tell Lewis.
“She relies on you to the extent that you’re not really living.
Think about it. At some point, Mira has to fight her own battles.
We all do. I understand she has issues and you’ve been there for her.
You are the best sort of guy for it. It’s actually this beautiful thing that she has someone like you in her life, only—I can’t—” I press my fingers to my mouth and stifle a choke. “I can’t do… this.”
Mira needs so much and I won’t ask him to choose between us. At the same time, I deserve more. I’ve always deserved more. With Lewis, I can’t stand the thought of settling for less.
He shakes his head. “What do you mean you can’t do this?”
“You’ve been distant and distracted. You didn’t share with me something huge you’ve been dealing with. It was about Mira, but it affected you. You should have told me. I need to know when things are bad for you, when you’ve got stress. I want to be a part of your life—your whole life.”
He slams his hand at the post. “Genevieve, I’m committed. What more can I give you?”
I flinch, surprised at the physical outburst. He normally keeps his emotions so contained. “Being monogamous is a big deal for you because you don’t date, but just saying you’re not seeing anyone else isn’t enough. I need more. I want to be a priority. I want it all.”
He scrubs his face and doesn’t say anything for a long moment.
“Lewis?”
“Give me time.”
What does that mean?
He steps forward like he’s going to hug me, and I step back, shaking my head. I ease inside and quietly close the door. Silent sobs erupt as I slide down the wood and hold my face in my hands.
Why doesn’t he know right now what he wants? What person needs to consider whether or not to make their girlfriend a priority? Either he does or he doesn’t.
I freeze, waiting to hear what he’ll do next, but the sound of his footsteps crunching on the gravel grows distant, then his car starts.
Tears stream down my face. He’s leaving.
I couldn’t stand there, begging to be a bigger part of his world. It’s depressing. But now that he’s gone, my heart aches. Are things really over?