Grace #2
“God, I don’t even know!” I half laugh, half sob, startling my waitress. I mouth my thanks, self-consciously swiping a fingertip beneath my eye. The polite smile she gives me tells me everything, so I wait until she walks away before I continue. “I’m fucking terrified, if I’m honest.”
“Talk to me. What exactly are you terrified of?”
“The past repeating itself—Tucker and I have done this dance before, and it ended. Some people just aren’t meant to be, but classic, stubborn Tucker doesn’t believe that we’re those people.”
“But you do?”
“Obviously.” The second the word leaves my mouth, I feel sick to the stomach. I take a deep breath. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that. I don’t know, Cars. I keep telling myself we aren’t meant to be, but somewhere deep down it just doesn’t sit right. It makes me a little nauseous, honestly.”
“The body is known to react in mysterious ways when it knows it’s being lied to.”
“What if we still don’t work? I can’t go through that pain again, Cars. I barely survived it the first time, I wouldn’t make it through a second round.”
“But what if you do work out? You were babies back then, G. Yes, you might’ve had a couple years together under your belt, but that doesn’t change the fact y’all were both so young.
You have no idea what the adult Grace and Tucker could be.
Are you willing to accept a lifetime of what ifs, rather than take a risk with him, and trust that if you’re meant to be—the way he’s convinced you are—it’ll work? ”
My pulse is pounding in my ears, my heart in my throat.
Despite everything Carson is saying making me feel nauseous as hell, there’s a part of me, deep down, screaming its agreement.
I’d put money on it being the same part that melts my insides whenever Tucker looks at me. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Oh trust me, it’s quite possibly one of the hardest things you’ll do. But it could also be one of the best. You just have to believe in the two of you, rather than continuing all of this negative talk.”
Elbow on the table, I rest my forehead in my hand and take a slow, deep breath. Now that the heat of the moment has passed and I can think a little clearer, there’s one thing Tucker said that stood out more than the others, and not in a good way.
“He told me I’m running away because I’m scared.”
There’s silence on the other end of the line. I wish Carson was here, if only so I could see her facial expressions. I’d FaceTime her, but I feel far too disheveled to be seen right now. “And how did that make you feel?” she asks after a beat, almost cautiously.
“I wish you could see me rolling my eyes at you right now.”
This makes her laugh. “I can feel it, don’t worry. But I’m serious, G. How’d you feel when he said that?”
“Frustrated. It was probably a slight overreaction, because he wasn’t trying to be malicious, but he was right.” I shake my head in my hand and let my other elbow hit the table.
“I just want you to take a second to acknowledge what you’ve just admitted, G—not the part about a man being right, which we’ll circle back to another time, but the reflection and self-awareness it takes to admit something like that. You’re brave as hell, my girl.”
Her words trigger something inside me and suddenly I’m crying again. I keep my head down as silent tears fall from my lashes, splashing onto the table without a sound. “Goddamn, Cars,” I sniffle, “I hadn’t planned on crying in the diner today.”
Carson is quiet as I take a moment to dab at my eyes with the sleeve of my top.
“I hate that ancient things with my mom show up in places like this.” The sigh I let out trembles.
If the years I spent in therapy taught me anything, it’s that sometimes the worst parts of our parents show up in us.
We can’t control whether they’re passed down to us, but we can control how we navigate them and break the patterns.
I’ve spent the past decade keeping men at arm’s length, and I was fine with that because it meant I couldn’t get hurt.
And if the situation ever arose where I felt that pain was on the horizon, I’d run before it could catch me.
But Tucker isn’t like those men; he never has been.
“I don’t want to run from Tucker.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“No, you don’t,” Carson agrees softly.
With a heavy sigh, I sit up and lay my head back against the booth seat and close my eyes. “If you were here right now, I wouldn’t know whether to slap you or hug you.”
“Well thank the lord I ain’t there to find out which option wins.” Hearing the smile in her voice makes me grin.
“Thank you, Cars. Truly.”
“Hey, what’re friends for, if not to convince you to get back with your ex?”
My last sip of Coke almost comes back up. I cough a few times to clear my throat. “I wouldn’t go using that as a tag line for your friendship.”
“Good thing I’m not in the market for new friendships. You’re all I need.”
There’s a warmth in my chest as she says this.
Carson, bless her heart, is mostly against expressing any sort of emotion—other than sarcasm or rage.
She looks as sweet as a kitten, and she has the claws to match.
I’m always caught off guard in the best of ways when she expresses her love for me in typical ways.
“Careful, Cars, you almost sound like you feel things.”
Her belly laugh bellows through down the phone line. “Honey, you know I love you to death. It’s the feelings for men that you need to look out for—I was raised with violence in my heart when it comes to them, so you’ll never catch me saying I need them. But I’ll always need you.”
“I might need that in writing, just in case.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly, I think about how to respond.
The truth is, I have no idea what to do now.
There’s twelve years of emotions and loss swirling around in my stomach and my heart, and I haven’t the slightest clue how to start processing them.
I know I’ll need to talk to Tucker—not like we did today, but actually talk through the past. The thought of it alone scares me half to death, but if we’re ever going to move past this—as friends, strangers, or lovers—it’s essential.
“I know I need to talk to him, but I’m not ready yet. I need time to figure out what to say.”
“Totally fine that you need time, but I also don’t think you can manufacture this conversation. There’s a whole lotta unspoken shit between the two of you, and lots of emotions tangled up in there. Y’all have to speak from the heart, unplanned and unpracticed, if you want it to be real and raw.”
I know she’s right, but that doesn’t make it suck any less.
I let out a huff. “I hate it when you’re right,” I say in with childlike annoyance.
“I know.” I can practically see the smug look on her face as she says it. “But you had to go and sleep with him, so you kinda brought this on yourself.”
I bark out a laugh. “Okay woah, you can’t blame that entirely on me.”
“Oh I’m not; it’s absolutely his fault, too. But I thought I raised you better than to fall for sweet talkin’ men.”