Page 115 of I Could Be Yours

Nate is at the Pancake House when I arrive. He looks gorgeous, and nervous, and I have no idea what’s about to happen. I want to hear him out, but I don’t want to open myself up for another shot of heartache.

He stands and runs his hands over his thighs. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I slip into the booth before he can make a move to touch me. We’re not in a place where I can handle physical contact.

He takes his seat.

Rainbow, the server, comes over with coffee and water. “You need a few minutes with the menu?”

“I’ll have the cookies and cream milkshake, please.” I’ve been eating my feelings all day, why stop now?

“I’ll have the same,” Nate says.

“Sure thing!” Rainbow flounces off.

“How are you?” Nate asks. “You look good. You look great. I love the hair.”

“Thanks.” I finger one of the pink streaks. “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Okay. Getting better. The last couple of weeks have been rough,” he admits.

I nod. “Yeah. They haven’t been my favorite.”

He swallows. “I wanted to message before today, but I wasn’t ready.”

“But you’re ready now?” Everything feels so strained.

He nods.

“What are you ready for?”

“To talk things out.” He fidgets with the napkin. “You were right, Ess. I didn’t want you to be, but you were.”

My stomach sinks and knots. I look down at my hands and fight the tears. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this.

“Not about me falling for you,” he rushes on. “I’m definitely in love with you.”

My heart drops from my throat back into my chest.

“But you were right that I was reacting to all the things happening around us. My mom showing up, taking the money…” He pauses to clear his throat. “I couldn’t see anything clearly. And it wasn’t until I got home and had some time to process that I realized every time you stepped in to take care of me and offer me support, I diverted all my feelings into sex.”

Rainbow sets our shakes on the table and quietly rushes away, red faced.

“I started therapy today,” Nate says softly.

“You did?” The hope blossoming in my chest scares the hell out of me.

He nods.

“How was it?”

“Pretty fucking awful, to be honest.” The pain in his voice and behind his eyes affirms this truth.

“Will you go again?” It’s one thing to start therapy; it’s another to stick with it.

“Yeah. Twice a week until I can sort through the hardest shit. Then we’ll adjust. I have some pretty deep-seated mommy issues, Ess.”

“I know.” I reach across the table, covering his hand with mine. “I’m sorry she’s such a disappointment.”

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