Page 71 of When We Meet Again

“No. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Patrick shrugs, putting his emptied glass next to mine. “I don’t think she and I ever had what you guys had, you know?”

That hits me with a blow. After all these years, he’s noticed it, too. “So encouraging us to hang out all the time…?”

He leans back and crosses his hands behind his head and stares at the ceiling. “You know that night we met her, I shouldhave let you introduce yourself like you wanted to. I was a dick for swooping in, whether it would have worked out with you and her or not.”Touché.“But you were only eighteen and had no experience with women. No real experience, anyway.” His eyes narrow to find mine, and a smirk crawls across his face. I smile back, fiddling with the chain on my wallet.

“I watched you date any girl you wanted to in middle and high school. It came so easy for you. When I was in school, I was awkward as fuck.” His eyes close like he’s in pain. “I thought maybe if I get the girl for once, I would be as good as you are.”

I fly forward on my seat. He thinks I’m better than him? “Dude, you are so much better than I am. You have a career that you excel in. You save people, you have money stacked in the bank…You’re smart… Let’s also add that you have sixteen years’ experience on me. I’m nowhere near where you are in life.”

He palms the air to stop me. “Roman. I understand all that, but I was emotionally empty. I had no real connection with her—as much as I tried and wanted to. So when I practically pushed her into your arms, knowing you both would never cross the line, it was my way of giving her something from you thatIcouldn’t give her myself.”

His face flushes and his eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “It was fucked up of me. It was like dangling you both in front of each other knowing it was me she’d be going home with.”

He sniffs in. “Hell, even then, I never slept in the same room as her. I didn’t want to. I never felt like she was mine. But I guess it’s because I never made her feel like it.”

Nope. That was one thing she and I would talk about. She felt loyal to Patrick and didn’t have a valid reason for breaking up. Yes, she wasn’t herself anymore, but he never hit her, never talked down to her, gave her everything she needed, but he was emotionally null. Void of anything that made him seem vulnerable.

“I know what you did for her,” Patrick continues, making me a little nervous not knowing what he’s talking about. “The bucket list, I mean.”

“She said she wanted to cross everything off before she turned forty, so you know, you were dead—” I start and Patrick shakes his head, but I continue anyway. “I’m sorry…you were gone. I felt like I needed to step up and take care of her becauseIwas losing her. And I don’t mean losing her as in ‘I walked away while you were together,’ but she was folding into herself. Imploding. Unable to pull herself out of her funk.”

My voice breaks. “Sometimes you just need someone to help you pull yourself out of the rut.”

He nods like he gets it. We sit in silence, listening to the noise from the crickets seeping inside.

The conversation feels like it’s come to an end. There really isn’t much more to say, but it seems like he and Waverly have to have a talk.

“Are you coming to my birthday party?” Jesus, I sound like an eight-year-old.

Patrick laughs and rests his hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there. But make sure Tommy and Timmy don’t hog the slide.” He jokes, knowing I sound like a child. “Who has a birthday party when they turn twenty-five?”

“Mom insisted, and I think it’s kind of for you, too. Like a re-birth to life thing… Since you’re not dead and all.” I stand, letting his hand fall from my shoulder. “I’m going to go.”

“Willshebe there?”

“Waverly?” I’d like to assume I know who he’s talking about, but he could technically be asking about Mom.

I can’t help but break out into a big ass cheesy smile, “Yeah, she’ll be there.”

“Good.” Patrick dips his head once and it’s then that I know we’ll be fine.

CHAPTER 38

WAVERLY

Fortunate:My new wardrobe has brought a new meaning to “look better, feel better.”

Unfortunate:TBD

When I was fifteen,my stepdad—a wonderful soul—gifted me a book called “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff.” Now, when he gifted books, which he often did, he would write notes in them. As I was cleaning out my bedroom last night, trying to free myself from the past, from Patrick, from the person I am no longer, I came across the book. It’s for teens, but I dove in headfirst anyway.

I found this chapter called “Be Careful That You’re Not Practicing Being Unhappy.” I didn’t even have to read the chapter for it to bury itself like an atomic bomb in the back of my brain. As humans, we are constantly having negative thoughts. And if we’re having negative thoughts, we’re allowing them to happen, which is us practicing unhappiness.

It’s time to practice happiness. It’s time to shift my focus. If I want to be with Roman, then be with Roman—if he still wants me—and I don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks,because chances are nobody gives a shit and I’m only making something out of nothing.

Not once in the past five months have I thought about continuing things with Patrick. Ihavethought about telling Roman it’s best we continue to go our separate ways, but I’d be lying to myself to thinkthat’swhat’s best.

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