Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ben
I hadn’t exactly asked Ava out on a date, but I’d definitely crossed a line when I mauled her in the kitchen. My biggest takeaway from last night, other than that I clearly have no idea how to cook a potato, was that fighting the attraction was a losing battle.
I also learned that ignoring my past with Jules was not going to make it disappear.
Luckily, I could take down those two birds with the same stone: a long-overdue apology to Jules.
I had no idea how it would go, but I knew I wouldn’t get anywhere with Ava if I didn’t try. And, my obsession with Ava aside, Jules deserved the closure that she clearly hadn’t gotten.
Ava mentioned that Jules was job hunting and spending most of her time at the house filling out applications, so I hopped in my car over lunch and drove up to the lakes.
I had to knock twice before the door opened. Jules’s eyes went wide with shock, then narrowed with suspicion.
“Ava’s not here.”
“I’m not here to see Ava,” I told her. “I was hoping to talk with you.”
She pulled the door closer to her, leaning against it. “About what?”
I would really prefer to have this conversation sitting down somewhere, but I knew Jules wouldn’t want me getting comfortable in her space.
“I want to clear the air between us. Bury the hatchet. Choose your favorite colloquialism.”
She stared at me with ongoing hostility, silent.
I gave her a minute to process that, but when I realized she had no intention of responding, I forged onward. “I know that you’re unhappy with the way we left things, and you deserve better than what I offered as an explanation then. I want to give you a real apology and, hopefully, a better explanation. If that’s something you want,” I added hastily.
“I can’t promise I won’t still be angry with you,” she finally grumbled.
“Anger is an emotion. Understanding is a mental state. Forgiveness is a decision. You can have all three, in any combination.”
Her nose flared, as though my attempt at a peace offering only irritated her further. It probably did. It was easier to keep doing the thing you’d been doing for over a decade than to change gears entirely. Holding onto her anger was more comfortable. Hearing me out, and potentially shifting her worldview, was a considerable ask.
After glaring at me for several more seconds, she opened the door and nodded her head inside. I stepped in, shocked at how dated Ava’s house was. Not because I thought it reflected poorly on her or anything, but because her bakery was so damn adorable. Her house didn’t have any of her in it, as far as I could tell.
Everything was a shade of brown, beige, or wood laminate. Yes, there was faux wood in places it certainly didn’t belong, reminding me of some houses I’d gone into as a child back when wood paneling still held on after its spot in the limelight. It was making a bit of a comeback now, but not in the colors I saw before me.
The front door opened onto a two-by-two landing—and that’s a gracious estimate—that led directly into the basement, with a side opening that funneled a guest into the kitchen. Into the very laminated kitchen. And I truly wish I could say all that laminate was the same shade of wood.
Jules squeezed behind me, narrowly fitting between me and the fridge in the cozy entry space, and ushered me around an unfortunately placed staircase and into the longest, narrowest family room I’d seen to date.
And I show homes for a living.
In what could only be described as a galley sitting room, overstuffed brown microfiber couches lined two of the three walls and took up a shocking amount of the room considering their modest size. Jules plopped down on the far end of the longer couch, and I sat in the middle of the loveseat-sized one.
I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sort of polite introductory conversation from the woman whose heart I’d broken, so I just dove right into the meat of it.
“I realized about a week before prom that you deserved someone who was more invested in a relationship than I was. I wasn’t one hundred percent in it, and I knew you were, and that didn’t sit well with me.
It felt like a dick move to break up with you a week out from the biggest couples event of the year, so I decided we’d go, have a great time, and I’d break it off the next week and not have ruined the night for you.”
“Okayyy?” She drawled, holding onto the word. “That’s all chivalrous and everything, but that’s not what happened. So what changed?”
This was the tricky part. Because she was the reason I’d had to pull the trigger early on the break up, but I doubted she’d be receptive to that explanation. I had to tread carefully if I really wanted her to hear what I was saying and not be hurt even more. It’s wild how long emotional memories can hold on.
“Do you remember our conversation after prom?” I prompted. “When we were driving to the after party?”
Her cheeks flushed, which told me she did remember it, regardless of whatever she answered. She mumbled something vaguely affirmative, but didn’t go into any detail.
Unfortunately, details were important here.
“You told me you wanted to sneak out and—”
“I know what I said,” she interrupted, wiggling uncomfortably on the couch.
“And I said that I didn’t think it was a good idea,” I continued. “We went back and forth like that a couple of times, but I could tell that you didn’t like my evasive answers.”
“When we had talked about it prior to that night, I thought we’d been on the same page,” she said tightly. “I wasn’t trying to be pushy or anything, I just didn’t understand why the one-eighty.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But if I had just told you that I’d changed my mind, with no other explanation, would you have believed me?”
“No,” she mumbled again, a little clearer this time. “You were a teenage boy. And up until then you’d acted like a teenage boy. You jumped me every chance you got.”
“Exactly.” I blew out a breath. “And when I reached that point in the discussion, where I could tell I wasn’t getting anywhere making things up, I decided all I could do was tell you the truth. But, admittedly, I didn’t do it the best. Because I was a stupid teenage boy and I was more than a little stressed over it.”
“You just broke up with me!” she cried. “You didn’t explain anything! I had no idea that trying to hook up with my boyfriend was going to make him break up with me because you didn’t say that.”
“Yes,” I agreed, “I handled that whole thing really poorly. But, to be clear, you wanting to hook up didn’t make me break up with you, it just expedited the process. Because even worse than breaking up with you on prom night would be sleeping with you on prom night and breaking up with you the next day. At the time, it felt like the only thing I could do.”
She opened her mouth to argue again, but I held up a hand.
“I’m not saying that any of this excuses my shitty job of explaining it to you back then. I’m sorry for how that went down, and I wish I could do it differently. But I can’t, and I get that it hurt you. The best I can do is give you the explanation now that you deserved then, along with the world’s biggest apology.”
She sat quietly, unmoving, her eyes aimed vaguely in front of her with a faraway look.
I waited. I let her process all of it. I knew it was a long shot to have her forgive me in one apology for something that had hurt her so deeply for so long. I should’ve done this years ago, but it had been so much easier to just chuck it into the past and leave it there. I hadn’t considered that she might not be able to do that.
“Why didn’t you want to keep dating me?” A little of the contempt had left her voice.
Oh, God. That might be the worst of all possible questions she could’ve asked. I could not— could not— tell her that it was because I was crushing hard on Ava. Nothing good could come from that. Instead, I went with a gentler, but equally true explanation.
“We have different interests, different passions, different goals. Even though we tried to share those things with each other, it became clearer and clearer that we just weren’t a good fit. And I could feel myself growing more distant in the relationship.”
She went quiet again, a slight frown overtaking her beautiful face. She’d been a catch in high school and she was a catch now.
She just wasn’t mine.
“So it wasn’t that you found me unattractive?” Her voice sounded so small that it hurt knowing I’d caused that pain.
“Not even a little bit,” I assured her.
“I can’t decide if I’m still angry,” she sighed. “I do think that I understand. Better, at least, if not entirely. And I want to forgive you, but I need more time to digest all this.”
Honestly, more reasonable than I’d expected. But Jules had always been the mediator. She might be a free spirit with strong passions and a heavy dose of spontaneity, but she liked it when people got along.
“Entirely fair,” I agreed. “Before I go, I wanted to mention one other thing.”
She looked up at me, raising a dark brow.
“Ava mentioned that you were job hunting. I realize the last thing you might want is to see any more of me, but I’d be happy to hire you into my real estate agency if you want. You’d have to get your realtor’s license, but it’s very flexible, which would be nice if you’re also juggling the bed and breakfast.”
Her shoulders straightened, her face brighter. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. Like I said, you’d have to take the test, but I could help you study if you want. There’s a class you take and then the exam, but you could totally do it. And once you get going, you’d be making enough money to live off even without the bed and breakfast gig.”
“Thank you,” she said, and I could tell she meant it. “I’ll think about it.”
“Good. Let me know if you’re interested and I can help you get started.” I stood, shooting her an easy smile. “I should get out of your hair.”
She stood, following me back into the kitchen. “I had one more question, if you would?”
“Shoot.”
“Why now?” She frowned, a crease forming above her adorable nose. “Why did you choose now to come by and try to fix it?”
That was an easy answer. “Ava,” I told her without missing a beat. “When we met to go over some of the paperwork, she asked me what happened. After I talked to her about it, I realized that I’d never actually spoken to you about it. I thought it was time to fix that.”
Everything about her relaxed as she stood by the fridge, watching me open the door. That was when I knew she’d really heard me.
It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t fixed.
But it was a start.