Page 129 of The Path to Loving Him
“Good,” she says. “I saw him a few weeks ago in the grocery store. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out, but now that you’re in a better place, I feel like I can tell you.”
I swallow and nod, knowing I could probably handle her information. I’ve grown. I’m stronger, hence being able to ignore his text messages.
Nathan was my boyfriend of many years. When we first met, something about him was mysterious—fun in a way, a touch on the crazed side but nothing harmful. He was adventurous, and well, being someone who took on the responsibility of raising their brother, I liked the idea of having some adventure in my life.
I grew close with his mom, and I really liked her, almost felt like she could be a wonderful mother figure until . . . she wasn’t.
“How did he look?” I ask.
“Terrible,” Bower says. “And I’m not just saying that to say it. I mean it. I took a picture because I thought you might want to see it. Get some closure and show you that you made the right decision. Do you want to see?”
I take a sip of my water, thinking it over. After a few seconds, I nod. “Yeah, I want to see.”
She sets her burger down, wipes her hands, and picks up her phone. “Last I heard, he lost his job, and well, as you will see in the picture, he’s lost pretty much every sparkle and attribute about him that you fell for in the first place.”
She turns the screen of her phone toward me. My stomach twitches as a picture of Nathan with greasy, unkempt hair comesinto view. His beard is splotchy, his cheeks are discolored, and he looks like he’s gained about twenty pounds. He’s a very different man to the man I once knew. That I once thought I loved.
In his right hand is a cigarette, and his gaze is fixed on something in the grocery store’s parking lot. Gone is the luster I fell for, and a sad, unhappy man is in its place. It almost feels like looking at this picture is like taking off the rose-colored glasses I wore for so long.
“Wow,” I say.
“Yeah, he looked terrible.”
“You look like shit. What have you been eating today?” Nathan says, a heavy scowl on his face.
“Wh-what?” His eyes sharpen on my face, and I hate the look he’s giving me.
“I said, what have you been eating today? You look terrible.”
“Nothing abnormal, Nathan,” I whisper.
And I hate that I feel the need to whisper around my boyfriend.
When did that change? When did I fear him? Fear his reactions? Hisanger...
“Are you okay?” Bower asks.
“I am, actually.” I shake out of my reverie. “Thank you for sharing this. I think it helps remind me that I made the right decision.”
“It is a great reminder, and I’m proud of you for making that decision,” Bower says. “It was tough, but it was right. And I know Bennett feels the same way.”
“How do you know that?”
“We talk.” Bower shrugs.
“Uh . . . what? You talk to my brother? Like on the phone?”
“God no, who has time for phone calls? We text.”
“We talk on the phone,” I say.
She tips up my chin. “Because you’re more needy.” She then goes back to her burger as I try to wade through this revelation.
“How much do you guys text, and what do you text about?”
“Not that much, maybe once a week,” she says. “And we talk about you and some random things.”
“Random things?”
