Chapter 19 Now
Now
It takes David exactly one glance at me as I’m walking into the office Monday to realize something is up.
“Spill,” he says, before I even sit down.
“We’ll talk at lunch,” I reply, hooking my laptop up to the monitor.
“Nuh-uh.” He grabs me by the elbow and leads me toward the break room. “This can’t wait until lunch. This is coffee talk.”
We wedge ourselves between the coffee station and the water dispenser and I spill the details. The conversation about Sebastian’s café idea. The stormy drive home. The steamy make-out. And the tame but pleasant three hours that followed.
As Sebastian had suggested, I changed while he called in a large special pizza for delivery.
We spent the rest of the evening on opposite ends of my couch, talking and eating with Bravo on in the background.
When the rain let up around eight o’clock he said he should probably get going.
His mom was going to bed earlier these days, and he wanted to catch her before she fell asleep.
I walked him downstairs, wondering the whole way if he’d kiss me goodbye.
Preparing for it just in case. Instead he’d hugged me quickly and wished me good night.
That was Saturday night, and I haven’t heard from him since.
I finally stop talking and brace myself for David’s reaction.
When he doesn’t immediately offer one, I ask, “So what do you think?”
“He’s into you,” David says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Obviously. How do you feel about what happened?”
I’ve been asking myself this same question. “I felt happy at first. But now … confused. A little scared. I mean, he just broke off his engagement. I doubt he’s thinking clearly. He’s hurt, and I’m here. It’s convenient. Classic rebound situation.”
“I don’t know, Leens. If it were about convenience, I can think of way less complicated options than someone he has as much history with as he does with you.
Maybe it’s not a rebound at all. Maybe it’s …
” David strokes his chin, searching for the right word.
Then he snaps his fingers. “A realization.”
“Damn,” I say, booting up the espresso machine. I need caffeine for the rest of this conversation and the day of mental gymnastics I have ahead of me. “That’s deep.”
“I’m serious. Let me ask you this: What did you guys talk about for three hours?”
I shrug. “Our jobs. His mom. How Brantley Beach has changed over the years. The breakup with Claire, a bit. The ideas he has for the restaurant, if he can convince his mom to keep it.”
“Sounds intimate. Anything else?”
“He feels like he let his mom down by being away for so long. We talked about that for a while. Regrets. How much he wants to make up for lost time. Get his priorities straight.”
“Okayyyy. Why am I right about everything? He’s opening up to you, Leens.
That’s not a conversation a guy has if all he cares about is convenience.
” I chew my lip, and David lowers his voice.
“I know you’re just trying to protect yourself, Leens.
And that’s okay. But I think you’re reading this one all wrong.
Not to mention lying to yourself about your own feelings. ”
I know he means well, but something about David’s tone sets me off.
“What do you want me to say?” I ask, not bothering to mask my frustration (though I do keep my voice down—Debbie’s always listening).
“That after losing literal years of my life to obsessing over this guy and finally getting over him, he came crashing back into town and sucked me right back in? That I think about him constantly? That I can’t focus at work because I’m too busy dissecting our conversations just like I did back in high school?
You’re right, I am protecting myself. Because trust me when I say I know what happens when I don’t, and it isn’t pretty.
” I cross my arms and push back my shoulders, but instead of intimidating I probably look ridiculous.
David has about a foot and a half of height on me.
“Leens,” he says, his voice gentler this time. “I know that, historically, this guy has wielded way too much power over your heart. I’ve been there, so I get it. Trust. But also, this isn’t high school anymore! You’re different people. Don’t let what happened back then determine what happens now.”
I know, on some level, that he has a point. But I also know that the situation isn’t as simple as he makes it sound. With Sebastian, nothing is simple.
I feel my work phone vibrate in my hand. It’s a calendar reminder: I have a call with the planner for the LBI wedding this weekend.
“I’ve gotta jump on this call,” I tell David. “But I hear you. And sorry for getting snippy. We’ll talk more at lunch?”
“Duh,” he says, handing me my forgotten latte. “Let’s do dim sum.”