Page 85 of Love Undecided
“You know I care about her," I say. “She’s a sweet girl. How's the guy?” If she's gonna fucking ask me about Stacy, then I'm going to ask her about the dick-wad she's seeing.
"The guy?" she asks, trying to look confused. But I see right through her facade.
"Bauer."
"Uh, fine, I guess," she says. “Working hard and all that stuff."
Okay, clearly she's going to make me dig for information.
"And the two of you?" I ask.
"The two of us?"
What, is she just going to repeat everything I ask so she can avoid answering?
"Are you just repeating everything I ask you?" I ask her.
"No," she says. "I just don't understand why you are asking me about this?"
How can she not understand? She's seeing someone else, someone she used to see in college. And apparently she's happy. Maybe even in love. And I know that if I were a better person I would just be happy for her and let it be.
But I'm not a better person.
I'm a selfish person.
And I want her for me.
And the fact that she's with someone else pisses me off more than I can explain.
"This is how we are playing it, right? You ask about Stacy, I ask about Bauer."
"Okay... " she says.
I don't know why she sounds confused. She started this.
"So, the two of you are well?" I ask her. “You're happy?"
"Sure," she says. Then she shrugs her shoulders like it doesn't matter. "I mean, he's smart and thorough. And he knows what he's doing, which is nice."
What's that supposed to mean? Knows what he's doing with what? I narrow my eyes at her, though I know she can't see my eyes through my sunglasses. Apparently, I have to be more specific with my questions.
"Are you happy with him?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says. "I'm happy. Some of the guys in the past have been real idiots, you know that."
What the fuck? Does she mean me?
I raise my sunglasses so she can see my eyes. Her face softens as she looks at me.
Fuck it. Go big or go home.
“Kat, I don't want it to be like this. Fuck. You know that I’m still in love with you. I’m just hoping you’ll eventually realize you’re still in love with me too. I mean, let's be real, he's never going to be as good for you as I am," I say.
“Why would—” she starts to say something, but I'm not going to let her interrupt me.
“Let me finish,” I say. “No one is going to be as good for you as I am. You don’t belong with him. The same way I don’t belong with Stacy.”
“But, I’m not—”
