2. You’re So Insecure
2
YOU’RE SO INSECURE
SUMMER
I stormed into Basil’s condo with the intention of picking up my purse and overnight bag from his bedroom, but I didn’t get that far.
My stomach dropped when I saw Basil with Drew in the dining area, right by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She was on tiptoe, brushing her lips against his. His hands were on her waist, hers on his shoulders. Then her hand rested lightly on his chest, and his lips curved into a familiar, intimate smile.
Basil saw me and smiled. “Hey, Sunshine.”
Was he fucking kidding me?
Drew didn’t bother to step away, just turned so his hand continued to be on her waist. Granted, they were friends. Meadow was mine and she’d never kissed me on my lips.
I didn’t know what to say.
Had I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me? And if I had, why was he behaving like this was normal ? Did I miss something? Were we in an open relationship and I didn’t know about it?
“I just told Drew that I’m promoting her to COO.” He looked at his friend warmly.
And she decided to say thank you by kissing you on your fucking lips? I’m sure HR would have a problem with it, though your head of HR is out on your rooftop lounge getting drunk so what the fuck do I know? I just run a hippie store in Fremont.
Something sharp lodged itself in my throat.
I nodded and then smiled, letting go of the pain, sending it into the universe because it hurt too much. Later, once I was alone, I would deal with it; for now, I would say goodbye.
“Congratulations, Drew,” I murmured.
“Thanks, Sum.”
Why on earth does she continue to call me something I’ve told her to not to? Because she’s a nasty bitch.
“I’m going to go to tell Karen.” Drew then smiled at my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, nuzzled his chest and walked past me, her eyes triumphant, either because of the promotion she was getting or because she’d finally managed to break us up—or maybe both. Who the hell cared? She wasn’t my problem.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the caterer pour water into the glasses on the dining table where we were to have a sit-down dinner.
Basil came up to me and kissed my nose before I could step away. “You having fun, Sunshine?”
Loads!
But the way he looked at me, I felt my heart give. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, I told myself. I had been burned by my own insecurities before, had let doubt creep into places it didn’t belong. This was Basil, my boyfriend, the man I had loved.
“Basil, why was she kissing you?” I managed to ask.
He looked at me puzzled. “What?”
“She kissed you, Basil, on your lips.” The same lips you just kissed me with . I resisted the urge to wipe my nose off from his touch.
He shrugged. “She was just saying thank you. She’s touchy feely. You know that.”
“That was inappropriate, Basil.”
“Oh, Christ,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Are we back to your middle-class morality?”
Heat crawled up my neck, a dizzy mix of humiliation and anger. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. This was the man I had been planning to spend my life with? The man I had defended, compromised for, loved?
“It was inappropriate,” I repeated. “Can’t you see that? From a personal perspective, because we’re supposedly in a committed relationship, and from a professional perspective, because that is not how corporate America works, and even I, who runs a hippie store, knows that.”
He shook his head. “Are we back to this? You want to go ahead and complain about something one of my friends said to you? Let’s get it all out so we can be done with it, and I can head back to the party and enjoy myself.”
Right! So, this is where I stood with him. I had begged him to hear me when I told him his friends didn’t respect me, that they didn’t see me as his partner, just some temporary distraction. And now, he was proving them right.
Something inside me snapped. Something I knew that had been going taut for months. It was bound to happen. I had hoped it wouldn’t because I was a stupid foster kid who didn’t believe in happily ever after but still dreamed of one.
“No, Basil, not this time.”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I sidestepped him and went to the bedroom. I heard him follow me. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. I barely noticed. My blood was still boiling, my heart hammering against my ribs as I rounded on Basil.
“Summer, what does not this time mean ?”
“It means I’m done!” I had no idea how my voice was so calm. “With you.”
Basil sighed, rolling up his sleeves like this was just another exhausting conversation he had to endure. “Summer, not tonight?—”
“No.” I took a step forward, the heat rising in my chest. “You don’t get to brush this off. I saw you with her .”
He blinked, looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “With who?”
“Drew.” I practically spat her name. “That kiss was not okay, Basil.”
He let out a tired, humorless chuckle, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus, Summer. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”
I stared at him, stunned. “I watched it happen, Basil.”
“And what, exactly, did you see ?” His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and dismissive. “A hug, a platonic kiss? A friend being affectionate?” He let out another laugh, but this one was colder. “God, do you even hear yourself? You’re so fucking insecure, just like Drew says you are.”
The words hit like a slap.
I sucked in a sharp breath, but he wasn’t done.
“You always do this,” he went on, shaking his head. “You twist things into something they’re not. You overthink, you get jealous, and then I’m the bad guy for not entertaining your paranoia.”
I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. “You really think I’m just making this up? That this is about me being too sensitive?”
His gaze flickered with irritation. “Yeah, I do.”
My stomach dropped.
“Do you know that Gareth just told me how lucky I am to have you, and I must have a golden pussy that’s tight and?—”
“He’s drunk,” Basil cut me off. “He says stupid shit when he’s drunk. It means fuck all.”
“It’s disrespectful, Basil.” And if you loved me, really loved me as you say you do, you’d know that.
I had fought for this relationship. Fought to belong in his world, to fit in, to ignore the way his colleagues and friends dismissed me. And every time I told him how much it hurt, he had the same response— it’s nothing, they don’t mean it, you’re overreacting.
“It’s dumb, but it has nothing to do with you , he’s an ass to everyone.” Basil looked at me with disgust, like he had 99 problems, and his bitch was definitely one. “We can’t keep fighting every time we’re around my friends. I get along with your friends just fine, why can’t you with mine? I wish you’d loosen up a little, Summer.”
Because my friends are wonderful, caring, loving people while yours are a whole other level of vile and toxic.
“Stop being so fucking insecure. Grow a spine, will you?”
There was hurt, and then there was this. Pain .
This was worse than when my foster mother beat me for wetting the bed. Worse than another foster mother calling me a whore for holding a boy’s hand. This was so much worse—because I loved him.
But I was practical. I didn’t believe in soulmates or everlasting love. I’d seen too many people suffer in the name of it, too many women broken down and gaslighted into thinking they were the problem when, really, it was the men they loved who were fucked up. I wasn’t going to be one of them.
“You know what, Basil? You’re right.”
Surprise flickered across his face. “I?—”
“I do need to grow a spine .” My throat burned, but I pushed through.
“Sunshine”—remorse dripped all over my name—“I lost my temper, that’s not what?—"
“I do need to grow a spine,” I cut him off. “I need to do it away from you.”
His brows furrowed. “Summer?—”
“We’re done.” I straightened my shoulders, my hands steady now. I began to pack up the things that were in his bedroom into the duffel bag I brought along for my overnight stays.
“What?”
I threw my Kindle and its charger into the bag. “You heard me.”
He gripped my shoulder and turned me around. “You’re going to leave because Drew gave me a hug?”
I removed his hand from touching me, my grip strong. “No, I’m leaving you because you don’t respect me. I’m leaving you because your friends are awful to me. I’m leaving you because by making excuses for them, you are awful to me. I’m leaving you because I don’t believe you love me, and if this went on, then not only will my love for you die, but it’ll die in a way where I’ll become bitter. I’m not going to do that to myself. I want to look back at our time together and smile—which I can still do if I ignore the time I’ve had to spend with your toxic friends.”
He stepped back, shaking his head. “You’re such a snob, Summer. My friends are not toxic. Unlike your friends, they’re ambitious and they work hard. They’re smart and well educated. You carry a chip on your shoulder because you don’t have a college degree, and so, no matter what they say to you, you get over-emotional.”
I had to leave, I thought, before he said things that would stay in my mind and not let me look back at our time together with any pleasure.
Basil liked to win, and when he didn’t, he became vicious. I knew that about him and accepted it. No one was perfect. When I got upset, instead of talking through things, I got cold and ran. I was trying to do better right now, right here, but the need to hide and lick my wounds so they wouldn’t fester was driving me now.
“Why are you so difficult?” He said in exasperation. “Like during the company Christmas party. Christ, Summer, you were rude to people at my work. You made me look bad.”
He was so far off on a tangent from reality now, that I didn’t think anything I said would help.
“I understand how you feel, Basil. But I can’t change. I can’t be better than I am. I can’t become blasé about being talked to the way…you’ve just spoken to me, or as your colleagues did at your Christmas party or your friends just now.” I smiled wanly. “I’m not from your world, and I don’t fit. I have been trying hard to, but I don’t want to anymore.”
I was holding on tight to myself before I had a nervous breakdown in front of Basil, and he’d know exactly how emotional I could get.