Page 67 of About Time

I’ve put myself on ice for too long and I’m not even sure why. I’ve already had my heart broken and survived, so what am I hiding from? The only thing I’m doing is racking up the regrets for when my life is mostly behind me.

If it works for her she’ll be leaving here soon to go back to her life in Harriston, and once again I’ll be all alone. If it doesn’t work, then I don’t want her to look at my life and get anticipatory depression. It isn’t like I’m the poster child for healthy coping skills. When life gets hard I run away, and I just keep going.

It’s the safe option. I’m good at choosing the path of no resistance. I know that I need to actually start engaging in my own life. There are other options for me, and I think it’s time for me to choose one. Over the last week, before the arrival of Wren’s father-in-law/baby daddy, my friend Clark started helping her untangle the clusterfuck of her life by untying the knot with her lying shit-bag of a husband. Not that there ended up being a lot for him to do. He was able to find out that her lawyer back home had already submitted the divorce papers, and when Liam didn’t sign them he was able to push them through. It made it take a little bit longer, but you can’t stop someone from divorcing you.

Clark did all of this for her for free, because she’s my family. He’s determined to show me that he’ll do anything for me, and that real love doesn’t hurt. The only problem is that I don’t know if what I feel for him is love. Not the soul consuming, blood lit on fire, takes my breath away kind of love I had with Charlie.

Maybe that’s the point though. You can’t be consumed, burned, and suffocated and come out the other side intact. Or maybe I’m broken from all the loss I’ve suffered that I can’t recognize my own feelings. I feel pulled to what hurts, and runaway from what makes me feel safe and cared for. I’m sure a therapist would be kept busy with me as a patient.

When I close my eyes, those few times I don’t immediately fall into an exhausted slumber, I see a life with Charlie playing out. How can it still hurt after all this time? When will it end?

My phone rings. I don’t need to look at the caller ID to know that it’s Clark. There’s a pang of disappointment. My stupid heart can’t stop fantasizing that one day Charlie will come around. Even I start to wonder if I haven’t been hiding from life but trying not to miss out on one with him.

It’s stupid, because the one thing I’ve learned over the last twelve years is that Charlie will never come for me. It’s always been me running to him. I could probably push my way back into his life, but for once, I want him to prove to me that he wants me there. Nothing short of that will bring us back together.

I shake off the melancholy, answer my phone, and talk to my friend. Clark has stepped up his efforts to get me to go on a date with him, and I think he’s finally wearing me down. My only hesitation is that I know there won’t be a casual stage with us. We’ve been friends for too long, and there’s no need for the “getting to know you” stage of dating. There’s very little I don’t know about this man. Thanks to a drunken night out during our senior year of college, I even know what it’s like to kiss him.

He’s got skills, I’ll give him that. If mechanics alone were enough, there’d be no hesitation. Clark is a beautiful man. Tall, lean, and with those sharp angular features that turn mortal men into movie heartthrobs. Women throw themselves at him within moments of peering into his ocean blue eyes, but he has remained the same sweet man I’ve known since we met.

If I take this step with him we’re going to be serious from the start. Who would risk a thirteen year friendship for a fling? Not anyone sane, that’s who. Although, there are women who’d risk everything to be with him. They should too, Clark is the best manI know. This is why I know we don’t fall in love with our brains. My mind could never be as fucking stupid to turn down a man like Clark Reeves for a dumb reason like being hung up on a man who doesn’t love me back.

I know that some people are very purposeful when they get married. Love isn’t always enough to build a life on. I should know. I love Charlie with every cell in my body, even after all this time, but it isn’t enough to bridge our differences. Clark and I are very alike in so many ways, and I do love him. He’s my best friend in the world now since Donovan still rarely talks to me. I’ve tried, but it’s possible to hurt someone too much to come back from that. That only makes me worry even more about losing Clark by being too hasty with a decision this important.

Clark’s voice makes something inside of me click into place. Maybe love doesn’t have to feel like an earthquake shaking the foundation of my world. Perhaps it can come in like a soft wind, gently nudging me forward.

“Are you listening to me, Hattie?” Clark asks, bringing me back to the moment.

“Of course,” I lie.

“When are we going to stop doing this?” I’ve been expecting this question for quite a while now.

“Doing what?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Dancing back and forth across the line between just being friends and becoming something more. I love you, Hattie. I’ve always loved you. Don’t you think it’s time you moved on? You’ve been broken-hearted for twelve years, you need to let yourself be happy.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

“This has gone on long en—what?”

I blow out a breath to calm my nerves. “I said, okay. You’re right. It’s time I move on, and I can’t think of anyone better than you. You’re my best friend, Clark.”

“I want to be more than that,” he tells me.

“Okay,” I repeat.

“You sound so enthusiastic.” I can hear the complaint in his voice, but I don’t know what to tell him. He knows that I’m not in love with him. That doesn’t mean I don’t love him.

“We aren’t like that, and I’m okay with it. You have to decide if you are. I’ve already ridden the crazy love train, but the thing about that kind of love is that it doesn’t last. It’s a wild ride, but you can’t build a life on it. I’m thirty-two-years-old now and I don’t want to keep chasing an emotional high,” I start.

He scoffs. “Hattie, you’ve been running from an emotional high, not toward one. I won’t let you keep hiding by being with me.”

I sigh into the phone. “Can we do this in person?”

“So that I can take one look at you and go soft like I always do?” he asks me.

I smile. I might not be head over heels for him, but there is love there. “You shouldn’t have told me that, because I’m totally going to use it against you.”

He chuckles. “God help me, but you are my greatest weakness.”

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