Page 73 of The Close-Up
“Simon, you don’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I do. He needs to see a therapist one-on-one. I’ll even give him a referral to a few. He has some serious personal issues that need immediate addressing if he’s capable of such a huge, long-term betrayal. And you shouldn’t have to see him ever again, least of all in my seminars when you’re trying to do your job.”
My chest squeezes the tiniest bit. Yeah, it’s probably ridiculous, but it feels good to know that Simon’s loyalty for me runs deep enough that he would reject a paying client just for my sake.
“I just... I can’t believe what a shitshow my personal life has been. I’m such a lost cause when it comes to dating and relationships. Clearly.” I try to laugh it off, but it sounds like a strangled cry.
The area right under my eyes burns. Quickly, I blink. That burn is like a subtle warning for me to get my shit together or get ready for an onslaught of embarrassing, unwelcome tears. And I definitely don’t want to break down in a hotel lounge full of people.
I clamp my mouth shut, and for a while we say nothing. I peer around the room, my head hazy from the nearly full glass of bourbon I’ve ingested. I fixate on his hand over mine. Such a tiny gesture, but it means so much right now. I let out a small sigh.
“Naomi.”
“What?” I’m barely able to mutter. I’m so done with talking, with thinking, with feeling like utter garbage.
“Look at me.”
I take another sip, slam my glass back down on the table, and finally force my eyes to meet his. He gazes at me with an intensity so raw, I can barely keep eye contact with him. But at the same time, I don’t want to look away. There’s something behind his stare that’s magnetic, that makes me want to gaze at him forever.
“Listen.” When he pauses, he leans across the table, as if he’s trying to underscore his words with his body language. “Brody made the decision to betray your trust, and that’s what led to the end of your relationship. It’s not because you’re cursed or bad at dating.”
Slowly, Simon slides his hand down my arm, resting it gently over my fingers. As good as this feels, it’s on the edge of too intimate and it shouldn’t be, not when Simon is seeing Desiree. I slowly pull my hand from his. He frowns like he’s confused.
“We probably shouldn’t be touching,” I say quietly. “It’s disrespectful to Desiree, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings again.”
He leans back in his chair. “We’re not together anymore.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“It’s okay.” He looks off to the side before looking at me. “We ended things a couple days ago.”
“Oh.”
We share a few silent seconds of staring at our drink glasses.
“She wanted to move a lot faster than I was ready to,” Simon says.
“I’m still sorry.”
He flashes a sad smile. “Thanks.” Then he purses his lips and his brows wrinkle as he focuses on me. “Look, I know... I know you think I’m just saying this because I’m your friend. But even if you were a total stranger who spilled your story to me, I’d say the exact same thing. Brody is a jerk. You’re a million times better off without him.”
His words, the conviction in his tone, the way he holds me, it all soothes me. Like I’m being tucked under a warm, fuzzy blanket. I take a moment to clear my throat so I’m certain my voice won’t crack when I speak.
“It’s just...sometimes it’s easier to think that I did something wrong, you know? Because if I believe that, that means there’s something I can improve in myself—something I can change and control.” My throat tightens as I speak this deep truth I haven’t had the courage to say out loud until now.
He frowns at me, clearly confused at my phrasing.
“Because if I did everything right and I still ended up with a failed relationship, then that means there must be something fundamentally wrong with me. It means that no matter what I do or try, I’m still not good enough to have the one thing so many other people are able to have: a loving, lasting relationship.”
And there it is, the one thing I’ve dreaded verbalizing for so long. My biggest insecurity.
Simon’s frowning and vigorously shaking his head while giving my hand a squeeze. “That’s not it at all, Naomi.”
I shrug, letting out a joyless chuckle just as a tear finally breaks free. I quickly swipe it away. “Why do you think I’ve sworn off relationships, Simon? I’ve never made a single one work. I’m the common denominator.”
“You’ve sworn off relationships because a lot of guys are unworthy asshats,” he says without missing a beat.
This time when I chuckle, it’s genuine. But tears still roll down my cheeks.
