Page 172 of The Reason I Married Him
“Uh, what do you mean? Define like? Are we talking friends here or . . . more than friends?”
“More than friends,” I answer.
“Ohhh my,” she coos into the phone like a teenager. “Hubba, hubba, our boy has feelings.”
“Laurel, I’m serious. This isn’t good.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t see how this is an issue. Is it not good to like your future wife? Huh, I must be old-school then because I thought that was a great reason to like someone.”
“Not when you’re going into this marriage on a business deal. This should have been platonic, and well . . .”
“You guys had sex,” she finishes for me, her voice far too excited. How come she doesn’t understand the severity of this?
“Not quite,” I say. “But pretty close to it.”
“Oh boy, let me guess, you went down on her.”
“You know”—I sift my hand through my hair—“details are not important.” She laughs, and it just annoys me. “Laurel, this isn’t funny. I’m serious, this is a problem.”
“Let me get this straight. You hang out with this girl for two weeks, you strike up a deal, you’re getting married, and then you go down on her, and you’re in all kinds of panic because now you’re starting to like the woman you’re supposed to marry this Saturday when, in reality, you shouldn’t like her because this is a business deal, not an opportunity for a love affair.”
“Exactly,” I say with relief.
She gets it.
“You’re being an idiot.”
Or not.
“I’m not being an idiot,” I defend. “I’m being sensible.”
“Really?” she asks. “Is it sensible to push away feelings you might have for a woman only to marry her and live with her for a year with no chance of shaking off the feelings, only giving them the opportunity to continue to grow the more time you spend with her? Seems pretty stupid to me.”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .” I mutter.
“Seriously, what’s the big deal? So you like her. Deal with it. Seems like an ideal situation to me because this could be the chance to maybe fall in love again.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think . . . I don’t think there’s a chance for that. Or at least, a chance at reciprocation, and I don’t want to get hurt again. I don’t think I can take another rejection.”
“What do you mean there isn’t a chance for reciprocation?” she asks. “You don’t think she likes you?”
“I don’t think she’d open herself up like that. She’s . . . she’s damaged, Laurel. She’s been hurt by many men. I’m not sure the trust is there.”
“But it’s also been two weeks at most. How do you know that six months from now, she won’t feel the same way about you? That she won’t trust you by then?”
“But what if she doesn’t?” I ask. “I don’t think I can stomach falling for her, only for her to never feel the same way. I don’t want to put in the time and put my heart at risk only for it to be crushed.”
Laurel sighs over the phone and then grows serious. “Do you remember our senior year in college, when I met Ginny?”
How could I forget Ginny? She was the one woman who put Laurel into a tailspin after she broke up with her. Laurel questioned everything about herself. The way she dressed, the way she wore her hair, the way she acted around people, and the way she represented herself. She went into a deep depression, stopped eating, and really turtled in on herself. It took a long time to get Laurel back to the same woman she once was.
“I know where you’re going with this,” I say.
“If you do, then why are you questioning opening your heart again? You saw what I went through. You saw how I was able to—with your help—open my heart again. I suffered so much heartache, and here I am, dating someone new and loving that I have a person I can go out on dates with and talk to before I go to bed. Are you saying you’ll never open yourself up again?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “This is so complicated. We’re two damaged souls trying to connect and get what we need in life. She hasn’t really opened up to me, but I haven’t opened up to her. There’s still a wall, but the attraction is heavy. She doesn’t even know about Cadance and that I was engaged to anotherwoman two months ago. I thought I loved Cadance, Laurel, but here I am with feelings for a different woman. I was going to fucking marry Cadance because I thought I was in love with her. Fuck, Laurel, I’m so confused.”
Surely I should still be grieving a lost relationship, but I couldn’t give two fucks about Cadance at the moment. I no longer care that she’s out of my life.What does that say about our relationship? Was it just infatuation?Have I simply replaced Cadance with the next willing woman to sleep with me? Or do I actually see the chance of more with Aubree...which terrifies me if she doesn’t feel the same way.
