Page 31 of Screwed (Dad Bod Contracting 4)
A long silence extends between us, as James waits for my answer.
“I lost someone I loved, too,” I say. “Craig. We weren’t childhood friends, or high school sweethearts like you and Renée, but…we were together for several years, and I truly, deeply loved him. I thought we’d get married. I was waiting for him to propose and was half planning our wedding while I waited. I thought it would be coming any day, you know?” I sniffle. “Then he started to get aloof and weird and secretive, and I assumed he was cheating, because that’s been my experience when men act that way.”
“He wasn’t?”
“No,” I say. “He had cancer. Terminal, inoperable cancer.”
“Shit.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“So, instead of a ring and wedding, you got a funeral.”
I nod. I hesitate, and then just let instinct guide me. I slide off the bed, initially taking the blanket with me, and then I half laugh, half scoff. “Why am I hiding from you? You’ve already seen me naked.” I toss the blanket back onto the bed and cross my bedroom naked, trying to feel confident and only partially succeeding.
On my dresser is a small wooden box, hand carved from cedar, with delicate scrollwork—a gift from Craig, made by him. I slide the top off—inside is a pair of diamond teardrop earrings set in platinum, a carat each, the only expensive thing my parents gave me that I’ve kept. Also in there is a delicate pearl necklace that belonged to Craig’s great-grandmother, another gift from him, on our five-year anniversary; and a single ring, half a carat, plain gold band, solitaire setting. The ring. I take it from the box and hold it in my palm, go back to the bed and sit down, cover my lap with the blanket but remain topless.
I show James the ring. “He, um. He intended to propose. He had the ring, and was planning to propose, and then he found out he was sick, and he couldn’t. I think he thought he could push me away so I wouldn’t have to deal with his death if I dumped him.”
“You didn’t.”
“Fuck no.” I sigh, deeply. “No. I stayed with him.”
“To the end?”
I nod. “To the very end. I sat with him and held his head in my lap as he took his last breath.”
“Jesus, Nova.”
I laugh. “Funny, that’s exactly what Laurel said when I told her the story.” I shrug. “There’s more to it, a lot that went on before Craig, and after, but…I guess I only tell you so you know I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”
“I’m sorry you went through that.”
“Me too.” I meet his eyes. “Before, when you and I…whatever you want to call what we did.” I pause again, swallow hard. “When I first, um…took you out of your pants.” Another pause. “I, um. Craig wasn’t my first, and wasn’t my last. But he was…the one. The one that mattered, the one who really truly, deeply meant something to me. And I thought of him. When I first saw you, touched you, I thought of him. How I haven’t…” I blink, swallow, and can’t look at James. “I thought about how I hadn’t…needed…anyone the way I wanted and needed you in that moment, not since Craig. And I…I hated thinking about him when I was with you, touching you, being touched by you, but I couldn’t not. So…I get it. You accidentally saying Renée’s name—I get it.”
He takes the ring from me and spins it in the sunlight streaming through my open blinds. “I still have our rings…our wedding bands, her engagement ring.” He hands the ring back. “I actually wore my band for three years before Jesse made me take it off.”
“I wore that ring on my index finger for a while, and then I forced myself to take it off.” I traipse over to the box, replace the ring and then sit back down on the bed, covering my chest and lap with the blanket this time. “It’s not worth much, but I can’t get rid of it.”
“I know.” He rolls a shoulder. “Why keep the rings? It’s painful to see them, but it’d be like giving away the last reminder of her I have. Jesse and the guys helped me clean out her clothes and such a few months after she passed, and I’ve gradually given away the rest of her stuff, and replaced most of the pictures of us with pictures of the girls and me. Each of my girls has a picture of herself with Renée, and I have one of her and I in my top dresser drawer, upside down, under my socks. But everything else is gone. Except the rings.”
Another long silence between us.
James shifts. Looks at me. “Do you regret it?”
I meet his eyes. “Regret what? Being with Craig? Staying with him to the end? Or what you and I just did?”
