Page 49 of A Me and Him Thing
“Thanks, Ren.” I don’t know what else to do. Just keep trying to be a better person, I guess.
I tap my fingers on my knees, debating. Do I give physical touch one more try? A public baby shower was probably not the best place to experiment. Maybe he’s one of those people who hates physical affection in public settings. Maybe everything I felt today was off. After all, it was a stressful event, and I was faced with a very affectionate couple. No wonder my thoughts wandered into unexplored territory, albeit a territoryI’ve wanted to explore since meeting him. It felt right to wait, though.
Now it just feels wrong.
Our natural progression has been stunted. We’ve come to a sudden tire-screeching stop. Does he know it? Because I sure do.
I decide to brave another touch. I reach out and lay my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks again for coming with me today.”
“No problem.”
His reaction is physically verbal. He tenses up, his shoulders rigid and unwelcoming. The “don’t touch me” vibe emanating from him makes my hand fall to the seat.
I’m not imagining it. He doesn’t want physical contact between us.
I’ve been through too much this year. I can’t deal with this.
When he rests one hand on the armrest during a straight stretch of road, I give contact another try. I place my hand on top of his. His hand is warm, his skin smooth. “It was so nice to have you by my side today. I loved it.”
He immediately moves his hand back to the steering wheel, even though we’re still on the straight stretch of road.
“I’m glad I could be there for you. That’s what friends are for.” His voice glides over my skin, leaving behind goosebumps.
But his words are not what I wanted to hear. I face forward, my eyes on the road. My chest burns with an ache that’s too much to bear. I rest my head on the headrest and feign sleep for the rest of the long drive home, thankful for the silence.
A silence that says everything that needs to be said.
Chapter Fourteen
ME:SORRY, SWAMPEDat work today. Can’t make our lunch date.
It’s Wednesday. I haven’t heard from Ren since Saturday, although I usually don’t hear from him on Sundays, Mondays, or Tuesdays. Because I am only a compartmentalized part of his life.
Which now seems like a huge red flag waving in the wind begging to be noticed.
Ren:Bummer. See you tomorrow night.
No, he won’t. But he doesn’t know that yet.
I spent all day Sunday questioning myself, moping around the house, wondering how I could be so blind.
Now I’m just plain mad. More at myself than Ren. He agreed to be friends, and he kept his promise. I’m the one who changed the rules, assuming we were more than friends.
I thought his intentions were obvious. It appears I was wrong. I’m backing out because I can’t take the emotional upheaval. If I spend time with him, my feelings will continue to grow. It’s time to cut ties and protect my fortress from attack.
It appears I have a talent for getting tangled up with the wrong men.
It hurts, but not as much as it would’ve hurt if things had happened between us. As it stands, I’m losing another best friend.
Who am I kidding? It hurts so much I can hardly think about anything else.
On Thursday, I send him another text.
Me:Still swamped. Have to work late. Can’t make it tonight.
Ren:I’ll miss your palate. Okay, and you.
I can’t even muster a smile. I think I hate love. If I’d stuck to my plan to not date for a year, none of this would’ve happened. I set myself up for heartbreak.
