Page 112 of I Could Be Yours

“Is this why you brought me here? So I can see what I’ll look like in sixty years?”

“I brought you here because despite your black cloud of doom, you’re a good-looking guy, and these ladies enjoy eye candy. And because I’ve had enough of the moping. But yeah, basically that’s the reason. For a guy who says he doesn’t believe in love, you seem pretty lovesick to me these days.”

I sigh.

“You telling me you don’t want that to be your future?” He motions to the couple who are almost at the doors.

I tuck my hand in my pocket.

“Because honestly, I don’t have a problem stepping in and making it my future if you decide you can’t or won’t.”

I frown. “You don’t want Essie.”

“You don’t know that.”

I know someone aside from me who would be absolutely gutted if he ended up with Essie. And me? I don’t know if I’d ever get over it. How would I deal with family Christmas if theybecome Madden-and-Stiles fests? I’d be the biggest grinch in town.

“Come on.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

We say good night to the staff and head out into the balmy August night.

“All right, buddy,” Flip says once we’re on the road. “You have to spit it out. You’ve got all the feelings, and you’re holding everything inside. It’s eating you alive and making you miserable.”

I cross my arms. “You waited until we’re in the car and I can’t escape to start pushing, huh?”

“I know how much your mom leaving fucked Tristan up, and I’m pretty sure it fucked up you and Brody just as much, so let’s get your cards on the table so you can start figuring your shit out.”

“How am I supposed to have faith in love when one of the people who was supposed to love me unconditionally fucking bailed? All we got was a fucking Christmas card addressed to the three of us, sent to my fucking dad’s house since I was a kid. And then she tries to come back into our lives after more than a decade and a half? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Well, right now you’re angry. How do you want to feel about it?” Flip asks.

“I don’t want to care. I don’t want it to hurt, but it fucking does. It hurts all the damn time. And then I think I have relationships figured out with Lisa, and she cheats on me with some guy who’s more emotionally available! Nothing lasts!”

“Some things last,” he argues. “Look at my parents. Look at Essie’s parents.”

“Nothing lasts for me. I told Essie I was falling for her, and she told me I wasn’t, that I couldn’t be.” I don’t tell Flip the rest of that story. About how I was already reeling because of my mother. Or that I kept defaulting to sex with Essie so I wouldn’t have to deal with the fucking feelings.

“Is she right?” Flip asks.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. This hurts way more than it did when Lisa and I ended. My heart feels like it’s been put in a meat grinder. My chest physically aches.”

“Is this how you want to live for the rest of your life?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Look, man, I know this stuff is hard, but if you don’t want to keep running into the same wall, you have to deal with it. It won’t get better if you don’t.”

“You mean therapy.”

“Yeah, I mean therapy.”

“It’s gonna suck.”

“At first, yeah. But don’t you think you deserve a better life, where the wounds your mom left behind aren’t constantly bleeding?”

I rub my bottom lip. “I didn’t really think about it that way.”

“Essie’s a great person. She deserves someone who can give her the fairy tale she’s always dreamed about. You can be that guy, Nate, but you have to do the work. Show her she’s worth it.”

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