Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
BOWEN
My elbows were on my knees, eyes on the carpet of my bedroom floor.
“Bowen, look at me,” Elliott, my therapist, requested on the other side of the Zoom appointment.
I took a quick beat and did as he asked.
He smiled just barely. “You deserve to be happy just like everyone else in your family. You’re not a bad person because you’re attracted to your brother’s ex-girlfriend.”
“I cheated with her,” I reminded him.
“Yes,” he said simply, not trying to make it less than it was by saying something lame like, ‘it was only a kiss.’ He knew how strongly I felt about cheating—how my whole family felt.
“But we’ve already agreed that it was complicated, and she’s not his girlfriend now and hasn’t been for a long time. ”
“That doesn’t make her fair game, even if I wish it did.”
“Do you?” He quirked a brow. “Wish it did?”
I stared at him.
“I mean, I disagree.” His shoulders lifted barely. “I think she’s more than fair game, but you already know that. So we’ll skip past what I think. Do you wish she was fair game?”
“Do I have to answer that?”
“This is your show, Bowen. I’m only here to help you heal.”
I let one exhale escape through my nose. “Yes, I do. She’s…my dream girl.” I hated myself for admitting it. “She makes me feel stuff I never feel with anyone else. She’s smart.” I pounded a fist against my thigh. “So smart. And kind and funny and…”
“Pretty?” he prodded.
“A lot of girls are pretty.” Pretty girls were all over my Instagram feed. Which I never got on. Because that’s all they were.
“It’s okay to admit.” He chuckled. “It doesn’t make you shallow.”
“She’s not, though. Pretty is way too basic for what Magnolia is.”
“Go on.”
I dropped my head into my hands, fingers scrubbing over my scalp, unable to look at him as I admitted, “She’s unfairly beautiful. Most girls? The more they talk, the less attractive they become. Not Magnolia. Every time she opens her mouth, she levels up.”
“Dang,” Elliott said, adjusting his glasses. “I need to see what this girl looks like.” He was kidding. The man was madly in love with his wife and baby girl. “And you’re sure you don’t want to pursue a relationship with her?”
“She hates me now. You know she does. As she should. That’s the whole reason I went on Breaking Curfew with Nova. To make sure she’d never want to come anywhere near me again.”
“And you’re regretting that?”
I let my head flop back. “Of course I regret it.”
“Well, that’s progress. A year ago, when we started this journey, you were certain that putting up a wall, even if you had to hurt her to do it, was the right choice in the long run.”
“That was my M.O,” I admitted.
“But it’s not anymore,” he said, a slip of frustration in his tone. “Sorry. I just want you to ease up on yourself, even a little.”
“I’m trying.”
“You’ve carried this anchor of guilt around for a very long time. Even before Magnolia. When will it be enough? At what point do you cut the rope, let it hit the ground, and finally let yourself be happy?”
“With her?”
“Not necessarily,” Elliott said. “But if that’s what you choose, yes.” He steepled his fingers. “Let’s go there for a minute. Let’s say Magnolia forgives you, you love the heck out of her, and you’re incredibly happy together. Could you live with that?”
I cocked my head. “You know it’s not that easy.”
“Do you think Griffin’s out west, worrying about what you think of his choices? Whatever they might be?”
“Griff doesn’t give a crap what anyone thinks of his choices.”
“Exactly. Say it with me.” He shot me with a finger pistol. “True happiness won’t come until?”
“I stop measuring my worth by Griffin’s forgiveness,” I recited.
“That’s right. Now, if I can just get you to believe it.”
“I do. But…” I chewed my lip.
“It’s not just Griff, right?” He asked.
“Yeah.” It was my entire family.
“You know, there comes a point in everyone’s life where they have to say to heck with it. I’m making the choices I know are right for me. Not the choices that will make my parents, peers, or siblings happy.”
Elliott would know. He shared little about his personal life, but he did when he thought it would benefit me.
He’d let me know early on that his parents were very unhappy when he brought his girlfriend home to meet them, and they realized she wasn’t the basic white girl from an affluent family they’d hoped for.
She came from a middle-class, African American family.
And now Elliott and Zariah went to her family’s house for Sunday dinners and holidays. All of them.
“No regrets,” he said. “Zariah was the right choice. That truth only grows every day that I spend with her.” His brow raised as if to ask, Do you feel that strongly about Magnolia?
“I don’t know. I’ve never had the chance to actually date her. I only know her as a friend.” I rubbed the back of my neck, tension pooling there. “What if I give my family the metaphorical middle finger, choose her, and it flops?”
He pointed at me. “What did you do right there?”
“Pre-worry,” I mumbled.
“Yup.” His head bobbed. “Life is full of what-ifs, my friend. Most of the things we worry about never happen. So why give them free rent in our minds? Picture it with me.” He grinned mischievously. “Your family is planning that big baby shower for Sage and James, right?”
“Right?”
“So…” He shrugged. “What if you ask Magnolia to come along?”
The all too familiar pit in my stomach reappeared. “Uh, I think that’s a terrible—”
“No pre-worrying allowed.” He smiled. “What if…you ask Magnolia out and she says yes. You show up and your family is so happy you’re actually with a date—” His voice pitched a little higher, knowing he was pushing his luck with all these wild hypotheticals.
“—that they’re gracious, make her feel incredibly welcome, and never bring up the Spartan Race kiss at all? ”
I said nothing, but only because I wasn’t allowed to pre-worry out loud. But there was so much pre-worrying going on in my head.
He sped up, “You have so much fun on the date, you decide to do it again. Make out a lot over the next few months, have inside jokes no one else gets, you help her study for boards, she helps you start your own architecture firm, you get married, have a slew of babies, buy a minivan, argue over who left the milk out, have make up sex, send the kids to college, grow old together, and die holding hands like a Nicholas Sparks movie.” He collapsed in his chair.
“Geez.” I scratched my jaw. “Did you even take a breath?” My lips were trying to smile. Trying so hard.
“No. But I got you thinking about it. Didn’t I?” He grinned triumphantly.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll think about it.”
I’d think about it a lot.