Page 130 of Like You Want It
“So tell me this,” she says, one eyebrow raised. “Do you evencare?”
“Of course I care,” I spit back, incredulous. “You don’t think I care that I hurt her? Of course I do. I’m not a monster.”
“Then what’s the problem? If you know you don’t want to hurt her,then stop doing it.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is, though. You’re just not willing to give it your best shot.”
“You know, if memory serves, you weren’t too happy last time I dated one of your friends. I don’t know why you’re pushing for this now.”
“Carly is nothing like Ashley.Nothing.Weren’t you the one to tell me that in the first place? And if you’re going to be all stubborn and pigheaded and pretend like that’s not the truth, that’s your own cross to bear.”
“Obviously I know she’s not Ashley. But that doesn’t mean that…” I pause. “That doesn’t mean that a relationship or a family are what I want anymore.”
Susie’s shoulders drop. She scoots over, slips her hand into mine, leans her head on my shoulder.
“I know you want it,” she says. “I can see it every time you look at Nell. Play with her. Smile with her. And it’sokayto feel conflicted, upset, angry, emotional.” Then she looks up at me. “Jealous.”
I shake my head. “I’m not jealous.”
“You’re not jealous that in a few months, I’ll get Nell back and you’ll be alone again?”
My heart pinches, my stomach flips over. I feel some sort of prickling behind my eyes that I haven’t felt in a long time.
It breaks me. That idea. Like losing someone all over again. And again, it’s a child of mine that doesn’t exist.
“You will always be a huge part of her life,” she whispers. “But it’s also important that you acknowledge what you want in the future and start figuring that out, so you can have that for yourself too.”
I shake my head. Grit my jaw. But I don’t add anything else.
We sit like that for a long time, Susie and me. Until my arm grows tired and I know I need to get back to my place.
I kiss my sister gently on the forehead, then make my way home.
Shower. Change. Take Maxie on a walk.
And then I stare at my new journal.
Open it.
Close it.
Grab a pen.
Put the thing in my home office.
Take Maxie on a run.
Shower again.
Go to bed.
Two days goes by before I finally crack it open and start listing things out.
The reasons I’m angry at myself.
I gave up my career.
