Chapter thirteen
Some part of me must have been secretly suspecting he'd introduce me to a slim blond guy with too-pale eyes, because I was surprised when I met the dark-haired man. Mason was more built that me, not totally buff but with good muscle definition. Nobody would call him skinny, just fit.
There was nothing about meeting him that felt like looking into a mirror.
Except his eyes were on the same level as mine; we were the same height.
I found myself staring into his eyes, trying to see if he was a good guy or not—as if you can tell something like that from looking.
He shook my hand cautiously and gave me a smile.
"Some people meet the parents. I have to meet the partner," Mason said, and tried to make it sound like he wasn't nervous.
"I'm pretty chill," I promised, smiling.
I wanted to make a joke to lighten the mood, but the only thing I could think of was promising to not run any background checks on him, which was likely to sound more like a threat than a joke.
Technically, I could run a background check on everyone I met, I'd just be breaking the law to do it.
And cops joking about breaking the law goes over about as well as jokes about domestic violence—don't go there territory.
Even if you weren't trying to be creepy, it was creepy.
The three of us went out for a meal. He wouldn't be meeting the pack today.
We chatted lightly about this and that. He shared some of his history, talked about his job, didn't ask too many questions about our work, and was generally pleasant.
He had an air of being very shy and nervous.
Arlie and I did our best to put him at ease.
He was cute, with his dark hair and dark eyes and his quick shy smiles. I could see what Arlie saw in him. I hoped I wouldn't be jealous if he ended up taking more of Arlie's time, but right now, I found him a lot more interesting and sympathetic than the girls Arlie had shown lukewarm interest in.
I was proud of myself for not minding. For not being weird. For not being jealous.
I saw Arlie getting gradually more comfortable and happy as we settled in, as we chatted.
He seemed so happy that I approved. Sure, it shouldn't matter if I approved—but we all knew it did, and a lot.
This was new territory for Arlie, a risk.
It wasn't going to work if he didn't have my support and approval.
He needed my backup. He needed me to like Mason.
And I did. I liked him. There was nothing objectionable about him, and you'd have to be a real weirdo to try to find anything.
I was smiling as I waved goodbye to them, and they went off to have the rest of their date alone.
Mason gave me a wave and a smile that looked genuine, relieved.
Arlie put an arm around Mason, and flashed me a quick, grateful smile.
It was what he'd wanted—what he needed. For me to set Mason at ease—and to genuinely like the guy.
My smile dropped off as soon as I was alone.
I got in my car and drove home, my expression blank.
I felt blank inside, empty and drained, like I'd used up all my social energy and niceness for the day.
It hadn't been fake. But it had still been exhausting to be so social and try so hard.
Now I had time to try to figure out what I was actually feeling.
I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I glanced at my eyes in the rearview mirror, my too-pale eyes. The car seemed so empty. It was strange to think about how alone I'd feel, when Arlie had his happily ever after.
Maybe it would motivate me to date. Maybe I'd get out of this dependency on him and the pack.
It was probably too much, anyway. I couldn't expect him to look after me forever, for him and the pack to meet all my social needs.
No, at some point I'd need to put myself out there—date, or make friends at least, to replace the friends who'd chosen Darby, or just awkwardly stopped talking to both of us.
At some point, I'd need to find a girlfriend, someone I could trust. Move in together, get our own place. Maybe get married eventually, though I wouldn't be in such a rush this time to settle down, wouldn't overlook problems in the hopes they'd just go away.
My heart sank. I didn't want that, didn't want to try again and settle down and all the rest of it.
Maybe the misogyny was setting in. I didn't feel like I hated women or looked down on them.
But I suddenly felt like I just didn't want any more of this, didn't want to spend my life like that, trying so hard to make something work, to find someone and love her and settle down and keep. ..pretending.
Was it pretending? I'd loved Darby. But it had been so hard.
It was always so hard to find that connection I craved, no matter how the sex was.
The connection didn't work easily. Why couldn't I have something like the easy, comfortable relationship that I had with Arlie, but in a romantic relationship?
Trust, comfort, movie night that had us falling asleep.
A safe and happy relationship without drama or endless conflict.
Had I ever had that with Darby? Had I ever had that with any of the other women I'd been in a relationship with? It always felt so hard, so full of pitfalls and just having to try so damn hard all the time. And why? Why?
Arlie was out here, finding what he really wanted. I was still struggling in the weeds, walking in the dark, trying to find my path in the fog. Because whatever I'd been doing wasn't working, and I was...afraid.
Yeah. I was afraid. I gripped the wheel harder, and had the uncomfortable, growing sensation of something like tears, or a scream, or a panic attack building up in me.
Because I could convince myself and everyone else and never look back.
But something inside me was screaming, louder and louder. This isn't what I want.
Oh god. What did that mean?
I went home and headed up to my room to lie down. I should probably work out or something, try to get the emotions out that way, but I didn't want to be around anyone. I just wanted to go to sleep and shut out the world, and whatever I was feeling.
It felt an awful lot like jealousy. Not really jealousy of Mason, or Arlie, finding each other. But of both of them, somehow, and something more. For knowing who they were, and what they wanted, and being brave enough to try.
Why didn't I know what that was for me? And why was I afraid that, under everything else and all the years and trial and error, it really was guys for me, too?
Oh god.
It would be super weird if I really was into guys and it took me this long to find out.
Probably even longer to accept it and be okay with myself.
And what could I do about it? It would be strange if I started dating guys just because Arlie did, like I was afraid I was missing out or something.
Sure, maybe I had more to figure out about myself. But now? At my age? Why now?
I didn't have to tell him, of course. If I dated, or whatever.
I didn't have to let him know anything, especially when I wasn't sure of anything myself.
Dr. Cavan had said not to use him as an experiment.
I wouldn't; I also didn't have to let him know I was even questioning anything.
I didn't have to tell anyone, at least not until I knew more.
But it felt like I'd be fake, and a liar, if I hid it.
And anyway, I was probably wrong—probably just feeling jealous of whatever connection they had and wishing I could have something like that.
But shouldn't I be feeling that way about wanting a girlfriend, and not feeling this weird, resentful jealousy, like when you find out your friends don't have a curfew, or get to go to Disney for their birthdays, or are looking forward to getting a car from their parents as soon as they get their license—the feeling of "you can do that? You get that?"
What a weird way to feel. There was no point in my life where I'd have needed anyone's permission to date guys if I wanted to.
If I knew that was what I wanted. But I'd been so busy hiding from the mere idea, and trying to avoid getting bullied or looked down on, that I'd never even considered it.
Not seriously, not like it was actually an option.
Now, seeing Arlie and Mason, and not being in a relationship myself, not trying to convince myself how much I loved whatever girl I was dating, well, it felt more confusing than that.
It felt like it must be such a relief to stop trying so hard, to just..
.find a guy you connected with and not look back.
Why had I never even tried, when I was younger, when I was at the age where people figure this stuff out?
I knew why, when I was honest with myself: I'd been afraid.
Afraid of what I might find out. Afraid of proving them all right—of giving in, of making myself a target, someone even more worthy of mockery and shame.
All those bullies, all those years of trying to survive and prove them wrong—it would throw away all that time.
But wasn't it throwing away even more time to wait till I was in my thirties to even look at it? To give so much power to assholes from the past, instead of myself?
My mood tanked further. I felt so sad and conflicted thinking about it. And cheated. All the time wasted. So many doubts, so many fears. It wasn't right.
It wasn't the fault of Mason or Arlie, even if I had some complicated feelings about having to think about this, and them.
I wanted them to be happy, even if I had to grit my teeth and burn with jealousy on the inside.
It hurt to see that about myself, to know I was perfectly happy being alone and lonely, when it was Arlie and me, and not just me.
I wasn't going to steal this from him. I wasn't going to sabotage what he was working to find—true connection, a real relationship. But let's just say, if I could bring myself to do it, I had a whole bunch of shiny new things to talk about in therapy.
Goodie.