Chapter 19 #2
He leaned over the steering wheel again and fixed his gaze on the road. We were driving slower and slower. “We’re talking now! Right now.”
“You’re right.” I shook my head. “But maybe you should pull over somewhere. I’m not sure if it’s safe.”
Ruben scanned the area. “Our reservation! Well, if we don’t need it anymore.”
“Stop it.” I had to laugh, which earned me a dirty look.
We were driving on a small country road. Ahead of us, an illuminated sign advertising a diner beckoned. Ruben followed the exit to the restaurant’s parking lot. It was quite full, so Ruben drove to the end, near the next driveway.
He parked the car and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “Then say what you have to say,” he burst out.
For heaven’s sake, he was even worse than me. I took one of his hands between mine.
“Ever since we got here, we’ve been beating around the bush. We need to talk about how—if—things should continue between us. There’s no point in trying to avoid the inevitable forever.”
Ruben jerked his hand away. “Oh God, I knew it. Let’s go back and not talk about it anymore.”
“Ruben!” Indignant, I raised my voice louder than necessary. “We’re not going back. And I don’t want you to run away. Is our relationship as unimportant to you that you’re not even willing to take this risk? An uncomfortable conversation.”
Ruben turned his head and stared at me with his mouth open.
He furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry. Of course it’s worth it to me.
It was just . . . ” He looked back out the windshield.
“Hiding away feels natural in these stressful, intimate situations. When I think about it more, I realize how stupid my knee-jerk reaction was. But then it’s sometimes too late.
Or I think it’s too late. Then I can’t take it back. ”
He chewed on his lip, and I carefully pulled it out from between his teeth. He was going to bite it until it bled.
“Good! Then at least we have a common starting point.”
“Okay.” His eyes lingered on me, waiting patiently. “What do you want to talk about then?”
I lowered my gaze to my hands. By now, I felt silly. But I had no choice if I didn’t want to contradict my own words.
“What did you discuss?”
“What are you talking about?” Ruben frowned, confused. “Where did I discuss anything?”
“With the other chefs. In French.”
Ruben tilted his head and held my gaze with intent. “Nothing important. Small talk.”
“Really? The older gentleman was eager to tell you something important. I didn’t understand anything.” My cheeks burned hot. My head was on fire. “It’s none of my business. I don’t mean you have to report to me on what you talk about with others all day.” This was turning into a complete disaster.
“It’s okay.” He spoke quietly. “Alphonse, um . . . well, he wants me to visit him in Paris. At his restaurant, that is.”
“Oh.” Shit. I was afraid of that. “That sounds great. And . . . ” Damn it. I ran my fingers through my hair. “Is this a good opportunity? Are you considering it?”
“I, um . . . ” Ruben looked everywhere but at me. His whole demeanor changed. “I haven’t had a chance to think about it yet. Is that really what you want to talk about, Shane? I mean, we can discuss it, but . . . ”
“Ruben, I am being silly. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. And to be honest, I don’t know where to start.”
“From the beginning?” Ruben asked tentatively, and I laughed.
“Wherever that is. I always waver between absolute certainty about what I want”—you!
—“and complete uncertainty when I observe you in an environment where I don’t see a place for myself.
” Ruben opened his mouth to say something, but I quickly continued.
“You talk in French as if it were the easiest thing in the world. I didn’t even take French.
You can surely surpass the few bits of Spanish I’ve carried over from my school days into the here and now.
You talk about changing continents as if it were a bus ride to the next town.
When I stand next to you, I feel like a fish out of water.
Normally, that kind of thing doesn’t bother me.
I’m aware of where my strengths lie and where they don’t.
That’s okay. I’d say the same thing to anyone else.
But when it comes to you, suddenly it’s not easy.
I question myself. I swore to myself that I wouldn’t do that anymore because I can’t change what other people think of me, anyway.
When I saw you today, surrounded by these people who are so different from me, my childish doubts came back. ”
Now Ruben couldn’t stop himself. “It was never my intention to make you feel that way. I had no idea what was going on inside your head. I’m sorry if I ever did anything that made you question yourself.”
“It’s not your fault,” I quickly interjected. “I don’t want to blame you, I want to explain what it did to me today. Where I am emotionally.”
Ruben nodded vigorously. “But it’s the same for me when I see you with your snowboard friends. I’m confident in the kitchen. But when it comes to dating, I am lost. And look at you, you’re a prime example of today’s dating culture. That scares me. You scare me.”
“I’m scary?” I sat up straighter, indignant. “Couldn’t it be that you’re too scared?”
“Only someone who has to snap their fingers to have all men fall at their feet can say that.”
I swallowed hard. That accusation made me furious.
“Not again. That’s not fair. It may be easier for me to meet someone.
It’s true that what happens on apps and in clubs is often superficial and apparently favors people like me.
But it’s as difficult for me to maintain a relationship. To find something real.”
Ruben turned back to me. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me to say.
I didn’t mean you.” He stroked my forearm.
“Dating is frustrating sometimes. It’s not just what’s in the profiles.
As soon as someone sees a full-body picture of me, I get blocked nine times out of ten.
Sometimes I get great tips. I should lose weight, then it would work out.
I’m aware that you have never said that to me.
But sometimes it’s not easy for me to ignore what others have ingrained in me completely.
Taking it out on you makes no sense, of course.
I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that because I don’t want to belittle your own experiences.
Even if I can’t relate to them myself. No one throws themselves at my feet, and then the problems start.
I don’t even get that far. But I don’t want that to stop me—to stop us.
Even though it scares me, I know at the same time that it’s worth it. Because it’s you.”
“You’ve never said that before.”
“Ha. I wanted to tell you,” he claimed.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” I shrugged, confused.
“Yes, after Chloe called you my boyfriend. I asked you if it bothered you, and you said it was nonsense.”
I widened my eyes. “You did what? When we were in bed? I was asleep. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Okay.” He shook his head.
“Ruben!” I took his hand again. “I don’t want this to end up as it did in the summer.
I like the guy I met here. A lot. I liked the guy from the beach too.
And it was also nice to know whether you prefer condoms in different flavors or whether you find fucking more relaxing during sunrise or sunset—but I’ve gotten to know a whole new side of you here.
Or . . . gotten to know you much more intensely.
You’re determined and want to please everyone.
You enjoy to take care of people and want to be perfect.
When you realize that perfection is in the eye of the beholder and that you can therefore never be ’perfect for everyone’ it doesn’t stop you from making the best of every situation.
I like the Ruben who stands on the dance floor and doesn’t care about dancing and the one who lies in bed with me.
I like you so much that I don’t want to lose you.
Not again. I don’t know how I could fit into your life and that’s probably saying too much. ”
“I like you too! And the last thing I want is for this to end. But I don’t have a plan.
I don’t want to get on your nerves or make demands.
I realize it’s far too new between us to make serious plans.
But you’re going back to Ocean View and I .
. . I don’t know what I’m going to do. How is that supposed to work? ”
I gripped Ruben’s hand tighter, then pulled him over the center console.
“We don’t have to know that yet. The only thing that matters right now is that we want this to continue. If we agree on that, we can find a way together.”
He intertwined our fingers and kissed my knuckles. My heart was pounding as if a ten-meter-high wave was rushing toward me.
“It won’t be that easy,” he insisted.
“I didn’t say it would be easy,” I replied and grinned at him.
He pulled one hand back and gave me a gentle slap on the upper arm. “Be serious.”
“I am serious!” Nevertheless, I laughed. I was too relieved. We didn’t have answers to anything. But we had a direction. “I want to try, Ruben. No affair. Nothing temporary, but something real.”
“That . . . that’s what I want too. I think that’s what I’ve always wanted.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him toward me. The center console dug into my hip, and judging by Ruben’s surprised gasp, I was rougher than I had intended.
I deepened the kiss. Held his head with both hands. Wanted to make it clear to him with all my strength that I meant every word. Finally, we pulled apart, gasping for air.
“So what do you need?” I gently stroked his eyebrows with my thumb.
He raised them in surprise. “What do I need? I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that before.”