Page 36 of Santa Baby Maybe
8
That Night
Joy
W.B. Darling was sleeping in my house. Sure, it was the guest bedroom, but still he was breathing the same house air I was, which was strange. We’d binged Netflix movies for hours, each one getting subsequently cheesier. Then I’d told him he should sign up for the second season ofLove is Blind, and when he asked me what that was, we had to watch the first two episodes.
He’d put his foot down after that. Since it was after ten and I realized I was exhausted from the day’s events, I complied.
That’s when he said, “You have a guest room, right?”
Apparently, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone overnight. What if I needed something in the middle of the night? What if I fell getting up to go to the bathroom because in my sleep-induced haze I’d forgotten about my sprained ankle?
He’d laid out so many reasons it was imperative he stay the night, I didn’t have any energy left to fight him. And the truth was, it was really pretty sweet of him. He’d been amazing the entire afternoon into night.
He’d let me choose what kind of food we wanted for take-out. Turned out we both loved Thai food. Which seemed to startle him, that I could be both vegan and a food lover at the same time. He’d let me watch all the Netflix teen romance movies I wanted. He’d made me tea and replaced frozen pea bags when they started to melt. And he’d even gone so far as to offer to carry me to the bathroom, although I’d drawn the line at that.
Now, lying in the dark, looking up at my ceiling, I was still struggling to understand what all this meant.
For the last week I’d deliberately been putting some distance between us. Running into him and his date at the bar last week had shifted something inside me. It made me see that he was really serious about pursuing someone. And it was very clear the someone he was interested in pursuing wasn’t me or anyone remotely like me.
Not that I wanted W.B.’s attention like that. Of course I didn’t.
Or maybe I didn’t think I wanted it. But as soon as I saw the type of woman he did want, it hit me that any feelings I might have were pointless.
Sophie had accused me of beingintohim and I hadn’t thought I was. Then, after last week, feeling like I did, I feared maybe I was. That’s when I’d known the prudent thing to do was to step back. Keep my distance both emotionally and physically so there wouldn’t be any chance of my getting to that point where I found myselfreallyintohim.
Because there was no point. It would lead to disappointment and wounded feelings, and who needed that? Talk about setting myself up for rejection. I could almost see the horrified expression on his face if I asked him out on a date.
Also, I didn’t own a pantsuit, so it’s not like I could change. Not that I would. Ever.
The one thing I was certain about was that if I ever did find someone to love, they would love me back. All of me. My father spent a lot of years learning the hard way that I wasn’t someone who was going to be molded into something I wasn’t. Eventually, he’d relented and decided to just love me for who I was. I knew this when he’d agreed to help out with college despite knowing I was going to be an art major.
So what if W.B. and I had had a good night? A fun night. A night where we laughed a lot. It didn’t have to mean anything.
I needed to compartmentalize it. That was it. Put it in a box and consider it an anomaly. Tomorrow things would go back to normal.
Decision made, I turned on my side and a small cry escaped me as my ankle jerked. I had it raised on a pillow, but I wasn’t someone who could sleep on my back. Which hadn’t been a problem so far, since I’d mostly been ruminating and not sleeping. But now I realized that, for a side sleeper, sleeping was going to be problematic.
A soft knock on the door had me lifting myself up on my elbows. My door wasn’t totally closed because Jake needed to be able to wander in and out, checking on me and being able to hunt for his dry food and use his litter box.
“W.B.?”
He poked his head around the door. “I heard you cry out. You okay?”
“You heard that from your room?”
He shook his head and lifted a glass of water he had in his hand. “I couldn’t sleep. I was walking back to my room when I heard you. You okay?”
“Yeah, I just turned on my side too fast and jerked it.”
He hesitated for a second then stepped into the room. He was still dressed in what he’d worn that day, only with no shoes or socks. Barefoot, he walked across the room and set the water glass down on the bedside table.
“I’m going to get you a couple of aspirin,” he said, walking into the bathroom that was connected to my bedroom. I wasn’t the biggest fan of pills in general, but it was probably the only way I was going to get any sleep.
He returned with two pills that he dropped into my hand and handed me his water glass. When I was done, I leaned back on the bed and sighed.
“That might help the pain, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep,” I admitted.
