Page 62 of Every Time We Touch

“Wrong choice of words.” I look around for something to hold onto, the back of a chair or the side of a cabinet, but I seem to have ended up in a furniture-free zone—some kind of wasteland in the middle of Eric’s kitchen.

“Just say what you have to say to make yourself feel better,” he says.

“I haven’t come here to make myself feel better.”

“Oh, really? Why are you here, then? It sure as hell can’t be to make me feel better.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I really am. I tried to be respectful, but, in this situation, it just wasn’t an option.”

“So you just don’t care who gets hurt? You just take what you want… even my daughter.” He holds up a hand. “Sorry. I don’t mean to lash out, I’m… I don’t know how to deal with this. That you dumped me, I can understand. That you can do better than a seventy-year-old retired engineer, I totally get. But that you had to get with my daughter… that I can’t wrap my old gray head around.” He pauses. “Nor should I have to, in my opinion.”

There’s no arguing with that. What he says is irrefutably true, but still, here we are.

“There is really no defense for Jen and me being together. Rationally, I know that. But we are and…”

“How is she?” he asks. “How’s my Jenny?”

In love and terribly conflicted about it. I don’t say that out loud. “She’s sad that she hurt you. That she was unable to stop herself from doing that to you.”

“It shouldn’t have to be like this. I know my daughter. I know she doesn’t fall easily and that’s an understatement. But why, of all the people in the whole wide world, did she have to fall in love with you?”

I have no answer for that. All I can hope is that we both come out of this with some dignity intact.

“I have no demands to make here, I’m well aware of that,” I say. “But your family is so close and this is hard for Jen. It’s hard for everyone, but⁠—”

“I don’t need you to tell me how hard this is.” He sighs. “Don’t you think I want my daughter to be happy? I want that more than anything for her, but… it’s hard to stomach that it’s with you. I—um, well. You know how I feel about you.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

“If you’re really so sorry, why are you doing this? Why are you with her? Can’t you be the wiser one? Spare her all this agony with her family?”

Although Eric’s lashing out again, it’s a fair enough question. I tried that—and failed. But maybe I should try harder. Maybe it is up to me to save Jen from all of this—from being with me. But I can’t give up on Jen—on us—on something potentially life-changing and wonderful, just because it’s difficult. And it is difficult. Excruciating, even.

“It’s not only up to me, Eric,” I say. “Jen has to make the choice.”

“Maybe she’s not as smart as I thought she was.” I can only hope Eric never says that to Jen, because it would break her heart to hear her father talk about her like that. “And you? What kind of person are you?” He shakes his head. “It won’t take that long for me to get over you. Someone who has it in them to do this. I believed you were a good person.”

Ouch. But it’s nothing less than I deserve. Because I am the person Eric describes. I have become her—someone I never thought I could be.

“I’m sorry.” All this apologizing for my feelings is starting to screw with my head. “I really am.” I shuffle my weight around. I’m still standing around with nothing to hold onto. “I’m sorry that it has to be this way and that we hurt you.”

“I can only hope Jen will come out of this unscathed.” Eric’s voice has lost most of its venom. “Because I’m pretty sure that being with someone like you will only end up hurting her.” He locks his gaze on me and while I do feel guilty, I’m getting sick of being spoken to like this, so I meet his gaze and stare right back at him. Eric quickly crumbles because he’s a sweet man—I know this all too well—and he hasn’t asked for any of this. He’s just trying to make sense of an impossible situation.

“I’m in love with her,” I say. “And I won’t hurt her. Not if I can help it.” Technically, I guess, the fact that I’m with Jen, and am putting her through all of this, is already hurting her. But I can’t seem to help that either. “But I am very sorry for hurting you.” I don’t wait for his response, but turn to leave.

I rush out of Eric’s house fairly certain that my coming here didn’t accomplish much. Maybe both Jen and I will have to accept that, for the foreseeable future, this is how it will be.

“My best guess is you’ll have to close your studio for two weeks, but I always advise at least one week extra,” Skye says. “Because that’s just how it goes with renovations.”

“Okay.” I’m not looking forward to not working for three weeks—to not being able to expend the energy coursing through my body—but some things just need to get done, like expanding the studio’s locker room.

“If you trust me enough, you could take a vacation,” she says. “Most clients don’t, but you’re not just any old client.”

Instantly, my mind drifts to taking Jen somewhere—away from Los Angeles, her family, and the mess we made. Maybe we can go to New York for a while and I can introduce her to my parents, which should be far less dramatic.

“I might just do that,” I say on a sigh.

“You look like you need a break. What’s going on with you?” Skye sits on the locker room bench and looks up at me. “Regrets about splitting up with Eric?”