Page 98 of The Opposite of Romance
“It’s ok, Sadie. You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“No, I do. Can we go somewhere else?” Parents and kids crowd the parking lot and she’s right; this isn’t the right place.
I gesture my head to the passenger seat, and she makes her way to hop inside the truck.
“Where do you want us to go?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Somewhere quiet.”
I nod before starting the truck, knowing just where to take her.
She remains silent for the entire ride, as she toys with her fingers in her lap. Finally, we park on the beach a little outside of town. Like I expected, it’s deserted. The place isn’t too popular with tourists and it’s nighttime, which was what I counted on.
I get out of the car, and she follows suit, approaching my side.She’s standing too far away for my liking, but I need to keep my reason.
She chews on her bottom lip, not speaking, so I break the silence. “Look, there’s really no need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. I know he was your husband for many years.”
“Nothing is going on between us,” she blurts out.
“Even so, I get that it’s not cut and dry. I understand you still have feelings for him.”
Her eyes widen with panic, and I hate that she feels guilty about this. “I don’t have feelings for him.” Her voice is shaky but determined.
I sigh heavily. “It’s ok. Really. It makes sense. And it explains why you don’t want more between us. Not when your heart still belongs to someone else.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she mutters, and my eyebrows shoot up. “I don’t fucking have feelings for him. I haven’t in a long time.” She looks fed up, which makes me eager to believe her.
Still, it makes little sense. “But why don’t you want to give this,us,a try, then?”
“Because I’m scared.” Her voice breaks, her eyes turning glossy. “I’m fucking terrified. I died a thousand small, painful deaths in that marriage, and I’m terrified of going through it again.”
“Sadie…” I start, but she lifts her hand.
“I know you’re not David. You’re nothing like him. But this isn’t about him.” She swallows before continuing, “It’s about me. I was dying in that marriage because I wasn’t enough to make him love me.” Her tears are now falling down her cheeks and my chest constricts.
“It had nothing to do with you,” I say, taking her head in my hands.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. I’m fucking crazy about you.”
“He used to be crazy about me, too. Until he got bored of me. And I can’t try this,” she gestures between us, “because I knowyou’ll grow bored of me. And I have a feeling it will hurt a whole lot more.”
“I’ll get bored of you?” I’ve let her speak. Now it’s my turn. I tighten my grip on her chin, showing how serious I am. “I watched you forweeks, from afar, when you wanted nothing to do with me.” My voice is low and level, portraying none of the turmoil inside of me. “I watched you go on these stupid dates, which made me sick, but I knew you needed it. And I would have done that countless more times if I thought they made you happy. I’ve accepted being your fuck buddy, though it was the last thing I wanted to be.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not…”
My voice rises because I’m not done. Not by a mile. “I’ve kept rereading your books, trying to find you in your characters. Trying to find little pieces of you scattered around. You’re all of them, by the way. You’re Rina’s courage, and Anne’s kindness, and Natalie’s wit.” Her breath hitches. “Me getting bored of you? Don’t patronize me.”
“You’ve actually read them?” she asks, her voice uncertain.
“Of course, I did. I told you as much.”
“I-I thought you’ve skimmed a few.”
“They were too good to stop reading.”
“Which ones?” Her face is scrunched, like she doesn’t believe me.
