The Time It Takes

Chapter eleven #2

"Okay. Good. Yeah." I nodded. The thing was, that's what I'd been trying to tell myself, just in clearer words.

But it wasn't quite...satisfying. "I do think there's a part of me that will be jealous when Arlie is busy with someone he's in love with.

I don't think he'll have as much time for me.

I'll miss him, even though I want him to be happy. "

"Have you expressed this to him? It's a very common feeling. Priorities may shift when someone is in love, but with effort, they can still make time for healthy and supportive friendships. It sounds like he cares about you a lot. Maybe it would be good for him to know how you're feeling."

"I guess." Could I just come out with it like that? It seemed like such a vulnerable thing to say. I felt a knee-jerk aversion to talking about my feelings even more. I was already pretty vulnerable to Arlie. Not that he'd ever made me feel like a burden.

"Do you think it could be possible he would be glad to hear that you don't want the friendship to lessen if one of you starts dating someone?"

We looked at each other. "I don't know."

"Could it be a reassuring thing to hear? Especially if you haven't approved of his choices in the past. He was worried about his pack's reaction to his dating choices. Is it possible he'd be at least as sensitive about his place in your life, if he makes those choices?"

I thought about Arlie—gentle, quiet, hating confrontation—and shrugged. "He does have a tendency to try to please people. I wouldn't say he's a pushover, but he likes to keep the peace."

Maybe that was part of why we got along so well. Neither of us was great with conflict. I was surprised we'd handled it as well as we had when it came to me disapproving of his dates. It hadn't broken anything in our bond; it had just been uncomfortable.

"Communicating your feelings might strengthen your friendship. It might give him the confidence to move forward, knowing that he has your friendship no matter what."

"Yeah," I managed. "That could be."

I felt a weird resistance, almost a letdown.

Did I want to hear that it was weird, how I was feeling?

Did I want to hear that I was probably secretly into guys and had just been hiding it from myself?

He believed me. And that made it feel like I was making a mountain out of a mole hill to be so bothered.

And the truth was, even if I told Arlie and he took it well, and it strengthened our friendship or something—I would still be jealous when he started dating guys. I felt territorial and squirrelly at the idea. My chest felt tight just thinking about it.

It was horrible, because everything I said made sense with the therapist's calm remarks. And it fit with my life experience. I wasn't into guys, I never had been, and my friendship with Arlie could probably remain strong no matter who he dated.

I wanted all of that to be true.

But I still felt something like angry, something like grief-stricken, at the thought of him dating anyone seriously.

Especially a man. Especially someone who wasn't me.

Okay, there. The thought I'd been circling and trying to hide from, the thought that had made me spiral. I didn't want to date Arlie—unless I did?

"If I was into Arlie," I said, slowly. "How would I know?"

There, it was out of the bag. A big pile of awkwardness, heaped up and waiting for an answer. Not lurking, but staring at me in the face now.

Dr. Cavan didn't look shocked. But I guess they train that out of you if you're a therapist for long enough. But he didn't answer right away.

"Most people know by the time they're teens, right?" I said.

He took his time answering that. "Everyone is different. It could certainly be that you have more to discover about yourself."

Yeah, it could be. I didn't think I had some secret attraction I'd never acknowledged.

But I certainly had complicated feelings about guys, and it was also true that I'd been so scarred and hurt by the bullying when I was younger that I hadn't wanted to even think about experimenting or finding out if I was into guys.

I'd just wanted to put it all out of my head and stop the pain of that bullying.

I'd liked girls, and that was good enough.

Even if that attraction was sometimes confusing and unsatisfying, and I found myself longing for closeness with other guys.

Not all guys. Just some of them, you know?

Wishing I could have deeper friendships and closer bonds.

For the most part, I'd never had that. But with Arlie, I did.

Was some part of me still scared that made me gay?

Or was I just willing to actually think about all of this for the first time?

The therapist continued. "But if you are confused or questioning, it's not necessarily fair to experiment with your partner. You said he was bi, is that right?"

"Yeah."

"So he could easily experience attraction towards you—and might be hurt if you used him as an experiment."

"Yeah, I don't want to do that to him. I don't want to hurt him, ever. I haven't talked to him about any of this. If he's attracted to me, he's never said."

"He might not want to harm the friendship. Feelings can be complicated, but aren't always something to confess. Could that be what the alpha was aware of? That he might be attracted to you?"

I shrugged. "Anything's possible." Would it be easy to be close friends with someone you found attractive and never say or do anything about that? No, but doable, especially if you were as in control as Arlie. "He's never weird or jealous or anything. He's just a caring guy, you know?

I thought about what he'd said when I asked him to tell me if someone was into me.

He'd been almost superior and knowing about it, which had pissed me off at the time, like I was being ridiculous or faking not knowing, like he thought I was pretending to be shocked when someone found me attractive.

I didn't think that was anywhere near true.

But maybe from his perspective, someone being into me just went without saying. He'd even said that lots of shifters found me attractive. At the time, that hadn't meant much to me. He'd said he thought I didn't want to know if someone found me attractive.

"He definitely wouldn't say anything if he was into me. Not ever." I swallowed. "And I'm okay with not knowing. I don't want to pry anything out of him. He's probably the best friend I've ever had. I don't want to do anything to mess that up."

"Could it be possible that he hasn't dated men because he found you attractive? Women might be easier to date, because there was no comparison."

"Geez. He's not that messed up."

We looked at each other.

"Do you think it is wrong if he's dealing with complicated feelings about your friendship?" asked Dr. Cavan calmly. Clearly, there was a right answer to that question.

"He said it was about his pack, though. I don't know. He's never said or done anything that felt like he was crushing on me. At least, not that I noticed."

"Sometimes feelings are messy and don't fit neatly where we think they belong. It could be the emotional closeness brings up feelings close to romantic, and makes it complicated to think about dating other men, if in his subconscious, he's dating you."

"I mean, we do a lot of things together." I hadn't wanted to date for a while, so it was fine with me—more than fine—to spend so much time with him. I liked having his attention. I liked how comfortably close we were.

Dr. Cavan said, "It's normal for shifters and their partners to be close.

The bond is important, and they often face life and death situations, while dealing with schedules and priorities others may not understand.

It's very common to develop an extremely close relationship.

Romantic relationships are also fairly common.

Even when both partners are the same gender. "

"You've talked to guys who...?"

He nodded. "It can be complicated. Sometimes, it's unrequited.

Partnership can be very much like marriage, even without any extra feelings.

Commitment and communication are so important in that bond.

When attraction is involved, it can be even more complex.

Boundaries are important when it comes to things like this—feelings that aren't returned, where we get our emotional needs met.

It's something to be navigated with care and compassion. "

We looked at each other. "I don't think I have the skills to figure all of that out. I just don't want to lose him."

That was all the time left in the appointment, and I didn't know if I'd made any progress or not, but I felt better for having at least said it out loud.

I also had a lot to think about now, including some things that would never have occurred to me. It wasn't necessarily that I believed Dr. Cavan's views—he didn't know Arlie or what he was feeling—just that it was something I hadn't even thought of before.

Maybe I wasn't the one who was too invested in this relationship, or felt like it was complicated. Maybe each of us did in different ways. Maybe hanging out with me did feel like dates to him, and maybe his alpha had picked up on that dynamic.

Would Arlie tell me if he was into me? No, of course he wouldn't. He was so respectful and circumspect with me, and he knew my history about being bullied. How much it had messed with my sense of self.

It wasn't the same thing at all, when someone found you attractive. But he wouldn't go there all the same, wouldn't want to remind me of things that hurt. If he was having feelings, he'd just push them down or deal with them on his own. He wouldn't involve me at all.

And maybe he was right. We didn't need any disruption in our friendship, anything to strain it.

We had a good level of trust and compatibility as friends and coworkers.

He would never do anything to jeopardize that.

But if he had some other feelings underneath, it could be complicated, even painful.

Maybe he was the one who needed therapy, not me.

It was a relief to think that, even just for a moment, but it probably wasn't true.

I needed to talk through some things for myself, no matter how anyone else was feeling.

Maybe I'd even learn some strategies for dealing with the confusing jealousy, although so far the therapist's advice was "talk to him" and "don't experiment with him. "

Easy enough. Whether I talked to him or not, I definitely wouldn't use him as an experiment to test my sexuality.

Arlie deserved better than that. Even if he was still figuring some things out, or experiencing a crush or something, he deserved to be treated with respect.

And I cared about him too damn much to risk doing anything to hurt him.

Something in me felt settled, at peace. I'd been worrying so much about all of this that I felt better just for talking about it, for lancing the wound.

There was relief, too, in hearing my new therapist's calm thoughts about Arlie and what he might be feeling.

I didn't necessarily believe it, but it helped to hear he might have complicated feelings about me.

Not because I wanted him to be hurt. I didn't. I didn't want anything to be hard for him.

But if he had a reason for being so weird about dating, I could feel a lot more sympathy and a lot less irritation for him and the way he didn't seem to know what he wanted.

It's tough to figure things out when you have conflicted feelings.

I'd probably go back as long as it seemed like I had things to talk about. There was clearly still a lot to talk through about Darby and my own path forward, whether anything else came up about Arlie or not.

I likely wouldn't have to talk about him again at all, except in passing. Maybe to say that he was finally dating someone he liked, and I was happy for him.

It didn't feel like happiness when I thought about that, though.

Well. I guess I still had some things to figure out about not being jealous if he didn't have as much time for me.

Maybe I'd even take the therapist's advice and let Arlie know I was feeling a little insecure and didn't want him to not have time for me when he fell in love.

Less time, okay, I'd deal with it. But I definitely still needed some time with him.

Well, that was down the road, anyway. He didn't seem likely to find his one true love anytime soon, when he was still having trouble looking.

But when he did, I was going to be happy for him, and I was going to be an adult about it. I was also going to express my needs and not just feel sorry for myself if I felt forgotten about. And that would fix this complicated, twisting-gut feeling I got when I thought about him falling in love.

Which is what I wanted for him. Because I loved him as a friend.

I tried to picture it—Arlie, happy, settled.

Finding a guy he liked, or a girl, being content and in love.

I thought about the way his eyes would crinkle, going soft as he looked at his lover.

I thought about him being relaxed and content, sure of himself in a new way, because he knew he was loved, knew where he belonged.

Yeah. He'd end up with someone nice, maybe funny and bubbly and cute, maybe more serious and mature and thoughtful and intense. I didn't really know his type, but I was pretty sure it wasn't actually petite blondes, whatever he thought.

Unless he was into petite blond guys. I almost laughed at the thought—and then didn't. I glanced uneasily in the rearview mirror, at my too-pale blue eyes, my dirty blond hair. It had been really pale when I was a kid, almost white.

It had darkened with time to more of a surfer look, when I'd had it a little bit longer, and then a severe, almost-not-there look when I'd cut it short to look tougher. That style hadn't really worked on me, so I'd grown it out again to medium length.

I hated the way my eyebrows sort of disappeared sometimes on my face. Sometimes I looked at myself in the mirror and thought I looked ghoulish and bloodless. But it was just the Norwegian ancestry. Too bad it hadn't made me tall and sturdy. I'd always been kind of slim and slight.

I turned my thoughts elsewhere, quickly.