Page 74 of Hold You Close
I’d laugh at that.Don’t be ridiculous, I’d tell her time and time again.Just because I don’t date very often doesn’t mean I’m not over Ian. I can’t stand him! I’m just busy, okay?
The look on her face would tell me she knew the truth, but she never pushed me.
“God, I miss you, Sabrina.” I say the words out loud as my eyes well up with tears. “And I need you more than ever.”
As soon as I get home, I sit at the kitchen table and take out my laptop. Maybe it’s ridiculous to keep emailing her, but I feel like it helps me to share my feelings with her this way. She still feels like part of my life. Eli wanders over to me and rubs against my leg, as if he knows I need a friend. I take a moment to scratch behind his ears the way he likes. “You’re a good boy, Eli. But I really need my bestie right now.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I open the screen and start to write.
Dear Sabrina,
You always said I spent too much time at a desk, but I’ve been happy concentrating on my career. I’m good at it. It gives me confidence and validation and purpose. Have I been lonely over the years? Sometimes. But I’ve taken solace in the fight to get ahead, in the knowledge that I know exactly who I am, what I’m doing, and where I want to be. The sacrifices have all been worth it.
So far.
Suddenly I feel like the path I’m on has led to a fork in the road, and I have to choose whether to keep working toward my professional goals—no matter the price—or admit that what I want out of life has changed and go in a new direction.
Toward a life with Ian and the kids. A family.
I realizeI’ve been holding my breath and let it out in a whoosh. Then I keep typing.
I can seeit so clearly, how happy we could be together. But is that even a possibility? We’re having fun, but what if that’s all we’re doing in his eyes? It’s not like we’ve made any plans or promises. What if he doesn’t want me forever?
My hands beginto tremble and the screen blurs because my eyes have filled with tears, but I go on.
I feellike I’m having an identity crisis. And I’ve got so much invested in my career—time and money and self-worth. I don’t want to risk everything I’ve struggled for just to be hurt and disappointed again. What if I make the wrong choice?
I want to know how Ian feels, and what he’s thinking about the future. But . . . it’s only been a month. Granted, this thing between us started nearly twenty years ago, but he might think I’m crazy to ask where he sees it ending up. For God’s sake, his divorce has only been final for a year! And you told me he vowed he’d never get married again. Do I want to turn down a huge promotion just to be his girlfriend for the rest of my life? It’s not like I’m 25 and can wait around—I’m 35, and if I want kids of my own, I need to have them soon.
But he’s the only man I’ve ever loved.
I’m so scared. I wish you were really here so I could cry on your shoulder and hear you tell me everything is going to be okay no matter what. That I’m going to be okay.
I don’t know what to do. Help me.
Choking back sobs,I click send, close the screen, and go upstairs to change. As I undress, I glance out my bedroom window at Ian’s house. He’s standing at the grill, his new favorite thing, which is giving off smoke. He’s also laughing at something one of the kids has said. I can see Morgan standing on the diving board and Ruby dog-paddling around in the shallow end of the pool.
I want nothing more than to throw my suit on, go over there, and join them. I want to open a bottle of wine and pour a glass for each of us, let it take the edge off this day. I want to help him prepare dinner, then sit down around the table and eat like we’re a family.
It scares me how much I want all that. It scares me so much that I tell myself not to go there tonight, not to depend on him always wanting me there, not to get used to feeling like I belong there, or like he belongs to me.
But I can’t stay away.
Five minutes later, I’m crossing the lawn, barefoot in my swimsuit, inhaling the delicious scent of whatever Ian has on the grill. He sees me coming, and his face lights up.
“Hey, gorgeous, I was wondering when you were going to get here.” He sets down the large metal tongs in his hand and comes to kiss me hello. “How was your day?”
“Fine.” I try to smile back.
“Fine?” He eyes me critically. “Doesn’t look that way. What’s wrong?”
I attempt a wry laugh. “I didn’t realize I was so easy to read.”
“I know all your expressions by now, babe. This one says, ‘I had a bad day but I don’t want you to know it.’”
Exhaling, I shrug. “That’s more or less it.”
“Aunt London, watch me!” Morgan shouts from the diving board before executing a perfect forward flip into the pool.
