Page 29 of Dear John

“Do you really want an answer to that?”

“Yes!” I shouted, tossing up my hands. “This is a no-brainer.”

“Okay, so let’s flip the script.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Let’s say she’s working on something for her graphic design business and she has a male client. In order to…do graphic design shit, she has to know about the man.”

“Why would she have to know about the man?”

“To properly represent who he is.”

“Why would she need to do that? It’s about the business, not the man.”

“Maybe it’s about the man,” he gritted out. “Maybe the man is the company and you just go with this and not make me explain every last fucking detail to you.”

“Alright, she’s representing the man,” I grumbled.

“And to get to know him, they have to go out for dinner. She needs to dig deep and really find out what makes him tick. And then they go out for drinks afterward. They’re in a booth, talking about shit. She says some things about her life to try to relate to him. Pretty soon, they’re laughing and enjoying themselves.”

“Because he’s a fucking prick and doesn’t know where to draw the line between business and pleasure.”

“But then they leave at the end of the night and they say goodbye. She doesn’t tell you about it, but then two weeks later, you run into him while you’re out together. He makes some joke about something that happened while they were getting drinks, and now you’re pissed. Why?”

Did he have to make it that fucking obvious? Yes, I understood his point. That didn’t mean I had to like it. “There’s a difference.”

“Yeah, and that would be that he’s a client and you’re pretending this woman is your fiancée. Big fucking difference.”

“Fine. You’re right and I’m an asshole.”

“You got that right.”

“But I still say I’m in the right. She should know me better than that.”

He clapped me on the shoulder, lowering his voice. “Word to the wise. If you want to keep your balls intact, try not to be such an asshole.”

“That’s terrible advice.”

“It’s the only advice I have for you. You fucked up. Not her. Don’t try to put this on her shoulders.”

“Then tell me this, oh wise one. How am I supposed to earn back her trust? It was unintentionally broken.”

“It was totally intentionally broken. We fucking told you not to keep this shit from her.”

“You also agreed with me.”

“Hey, this is your problem. Not mine.”

Figures he would back out when I flipped the script on him. “The point is, she used to trust me. One wrong move and I’m suddenly a piece of shit.”

“Well, that’s the thing about trust. It’s easily given until you prove you can’t handle it.”

Eli and his big phrases and bullshit advice. “You know, one of these days it’s going to be me telling you how much you fucked up.”

“I’ve already fucked up and learned my lesson.”

“And what did you do about it?”

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