Page 136 of Crazy In Love
“I fucked up,” I told her, keeping my voice low.
“No doubt about it,” she said, pushing the cup of tea closer to me. “The question is, why’d you do it? What made you think that would be a good idea?”
“I’m not good at this. You know that.”
“No, sweetheart. That’s not going to fix this. That’s a cop-out. What would cause you to set up a meeting with a man in New York City about a job for your girlfriend, without talking to her to even see if it was something that she’d want?”
I took a sip of tea and thought it over. My mother knew me too well. She watched me, and before I could even speak, she raised a brow at me. “Don’t bullshit me, son. If you can’t be honest with me, then you won’t be honest with yourself.”
I blew out a breath. “She told me that she loved me, and I wanted to say it back but I couldn’t.”
“Do you love her?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do. I love her so fucking much I can’t see straight. But telling her—telling her is a different story.”
“Why?”
I groaned. “If I knew, I’d fucking tell you and her. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Relax, sweetheart. When you love someone, you do whatever you need to do to make it right. But you need to figure this out. What did you say when she told you that she loved you?”
I wasn’t about to tell my mom that it happened while we were having sex. I’d leave that little detail out. I’d known that Emilia had wanted to say it many times. I’d felt it. Hell, I’d wanted to say it, too. And she’d done it at a time that didn’t demand a response. She probably did it for my sake, so it wouldn’t be uncomfortable to me.
I was a piece of shit for not saying it back to her.
“I didn’t say anything,” I admitted, mortified as the words left my mouth. “And then she talked about Lulu and Henley and all their wedding plans, and I knew what I’ve known all along.”
“And what’s that?”
“That she deserves a fucking man who can say those words back to her. That she deserves a man who will give her the fairy tale, the one that I know she wants. So yeah, I thought I was being the bigger person. I was trying to make her dreams come true and set her free from me.” I tossed my hands in the air in frustration. “And now I’m the asshole.”
She didn’t disagree.
Thanks, Mom.
“Did she tell you she was unhappy with how things were going?” she asked.
“No.”
“Did she tell you that she wanted a fairy tale? Or that she wanted to move to New York and design a hotel?”
I rolled my eyes. She was clearly making a point. “No and no.”
She blew out a breath. “I love you, Bridger. But I’m going to be straight with you.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“You are your own worst enemy. You made all of these assumptions, and it was all based on one thing.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “Fear. You’re terrified of how much you love her.”
“Agreed. You know it. Emilia knows it. And I know it. I’m a fucking coward.”
“That’s up to you, son. A coward doesn’t learn from his mistakes. You’re better than that.” A tear streaked down her face. “You’ve had so much loss in your life, and it’s understandable that you’re hesitant.”
“Pfffttt… really? You think?”
“What is it that you’re so afraid of? Are you afraid to be married? To start a family? To be a father?”
“Look at my track record, for fuck’s sake.”
