Chapter 30
JAKE
Something’s come up. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’m not going to be able to make the party.
Iset down the phone and stared off into space, trying to decide what to make of Jake’s text. There was no wishy-washy I’m not sure or I don’t think but that didn’t make it much clearer. His response felt like a lot more than a scheduling conflict.
“Is anything wrong?” Kindra touched my arm, pulling me back to the busy coffee shop.
“I think the guy I wasn’t sure I was dating just broke up with me.” I left off that he was the same guy who usually helped me get over breakups. I already felt like an asshole. I didn’t need to add all the times I’d used Jake as a balm for my ego. I blinked hard against the tears filling my eyes.
“Oh, honey.” Kindra took my hand in hers, giving me her full attention. Having a therapist as a friend had its benefits. “Do you want to talk about it?”
We were early meeting Alex for a lunchtime book signing and had stopped in the coffee shop for mochas while we waited. Caffeine, chocolate, and my compassionate friend might be exactly what I needed.
I told her everything and didn’t stop until I got to the text Jake just sent, cancelling on Charlotte and Ford’s party.
“I think I fucked up,” I said, rubbing my hand over my forehead and squeezing my eyes shut. When I looked up and met my friend’s gaze, I knew I had. “I stepped over the line.” I’d actually charged across it, but she’d be too sensitive to my feelings to point that out.
“Why do you think you did it?” She cradled the cup in her hands and watched me, patient as a sphynx.
For a moment, I rethought the benefits of having a therapist as a friend. It made it hard to hide from the things I didn’t want to know. This answer, at least was easy, even if I didn’t like myself very much for admitting it.
“Appearance matters to me. We’d never been out on a real date.
He told me he hates dress clothes.” That felt like making excuses, but it was still true.
“Left to his own devices, I didn’t know what he’d wear.
I guess I worried that he might not fit in, and you guys wouldn’t get a chance to see how awesome he is.
” As I said the words out loud, I realized that wasn’t the whole truth.
“I didn’t want to be embarrassed,” I said, barely above a whisper.
God, I was such an asshole. Saying it out loud made the absurdity of the thought so clear.
But it still didn’t stop me from having it.
Kindra paused for a moment as if considering which part of the fuckery to pick at first. “He went to the gala, presumably in a tuxedo.”
She left off all the rest—how if he could do that, of course he could dress for a party. Even without her calling me out, I felt small and petty. Like I’d overshot the runway so far, I might not be able to find my feet again.
“Let’s ignore for the moment that meeting your whole friend group at a party might not be the best first date choice for someone you’ve said can be uncomfortable in social settings.”
I nodded my head, trying to ignore the obviousness of her statement.
“And that you weren’t giving us much credit if you didn’t think we could look beyond someone’s choice in clothing.” She pinned me with her gaze, and I fought the urge to cringe. “I don’t think Jake’s clothing is what really bothers you.”
I opened my mouth to respond, and she held up her hand, stopping me.
“Appearances are important—especially to you. It’s what makes you so good at your job. That’s okay to a point, if it’s worth the cost. You’re the only one who can know if missing out on a relationship with Jake is worth the cost.”
She paused to let the words sink in, and something in my chest tightened. I’d been so focused on what I could lose if I gave a relationship with Jake a chance, but I knew already some of what I’d gain. An interesting, adventurous lover. Someone who played with me, challenged me, took care of me.
Someone who saw me at my worst and still wanted me. Except maybe when I made him feel like he was less than. Not good enough. When I hurt him.
I hated that I hurt him, and I could see now that I probably had. I didn’t need Kindra to point out that I’d treated Jake like all the other people who didn’t think he could handle his shit. In my attempt to be helpful, I’d accidentally done the opposite.
“How do I fix it?” I glanced at Kindra, saw her expression and caught myself. “Not fix it. That’s what I got wrong in the first place.”
“An acknowledgment and apology are probably a good place to start. But try not to beat yourself up too much. ‘Opposites attract’ is exciting in movies and books, but it’s messy in real life.
What if Jake can’t ever be what you pictured in your head?
” She tapped a finger against the side of her mug.
“You both deserve to have someone who sees you for who you are and doesn’t try to change you.
Adjusting for each other—compromising—is important, but trying to change the core of who you are or who he is will probably lead to heartache and bigger stakes if you try to build a deeper relationship. ”
It sounded obvious and so simple when she said it, but it still bumped up against the basic problem.
I’d had a chance at a man who matched the picture in my head.
The great on paper guy. John would always look perfect in any situation.
And he’d expect me to look perfect too. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but despite my previous thoughts, it wasn’t inherently right either.
I couldn’t imagine a man like John letting me sweat out a fever with my head on his chest while we spent the day watching romantic comedies.
He’d hire out whatever he thought I needed, make sure I was cared for by someone other than him, and get on about his world domination plans, making space for me again when I was well enough to stand beside him.
It didn’t make him a bad person. It just made him the wrong person for me.
I didn’t know if Jake was the right person or if that was even an option anymore.
Kindra was right. “Opposites attract” was messy in real life and there were things I didn’t know if I could live with.
But no matter what else happened, I needed Jake to know I respected him.
Ilocked the door and slid the bolt home before crossing to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water.
We’d splurged on celebratory cocktails and wine at lunch.
I’d had just enough to drink to make me aware of the importance of hydration, but not enough to diminish the shame I felt when I thought of Jake.
It was different than the embarrassment I’d felt at getting sick on him.
Because this time it was definitely my fault.
ME
I overstepped. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t handle your shit. I know nothing is further from the truth. I let my own insecurities get in the way. If I made you feel small, I am so sorry. I know you are amazing.
ME
If you really are just busy, ignore me. Except the part about you being amazing. That’s true either way.
I sent the texts and set the phone on my kitchen counter. I hadn’t mentioned my non-break-up to Alex and thankfully Kindra hadn’t hinted at anything either. It didn’t stop Jake from taking up all the space at the front of my head.
I couldn’t tell you what we’d talked about. I spent all afternoon coming up with articulate apologies for my couture overreach. In the end, I’d word vomited—apparently a recurring theme—a text apology as soon as I got home.
I expected to feel better once I sent it.
I didn’t. I’d had hours to think about how I must have made Jake feel and I hated that I’d turned into one more person who made him feel incompetent.
He’d never made me feel anything but brilliant.
Beautiful. Sexy. Even when my outward appearance clearly indicated otherwise.
He’d been a balm to my ego from the beginning. It’s why I’d started to reach out more often and after my other disappointing dates. I could count on Jake to make me feel better about myself. I’d been able to count on him for a lot more than that.
All he’d gotten in exchange was some adventurous sex and one more person who reinforced that he somehow wasn’t enough.
I finished and refilled my water, hoping the phone would buzz with his reply.
When it didn’t, I took the glass and headed downstairs to work.
Alone and pretty sure good-on-paper wasn’t going to work for me again, if it ever had, and scared that I wasn’t going to be the one who got to make the choice.