Page 81 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
She gasped. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”
“No. He was here, shirtless and sorry and bearing gifts,” I said glumly.
“Shirtless?”
“He was changing. And then right in the middle of his big I’m Sorry For Being Such An Asshole speech, Lucas knocks on the door and tells me he can’t let me go.”
“Oh my God, Mia. This is like a soap opera!”
“I know. And before he has a chance to finish what he was saying, Tucker comes over—with his shirt unbuttoned, mind you—and starts acting like we’re back together. And I didn’t know what to do!” Fresh tears spilled. “Now Lucas probably thinks I took Tucker back, but I didn’t! I want Lucas, but I can’t have him!” I was crying so hard, I couldn’t even see, and my nose was running like a four-year-old’s.
“OK, shhhhhh, let’s talk this out,” Coco soothed. “Everything’s going to be OK.”
“How?” I wailed.
“We’ll figure it out, honey. God, I wish Erin was here. She’s better at thinking this stuff through than I am, but I’ll try to think of what she would say. All right. First, do you want Tucker back?”
“No.” I was positive about that.
“Are you sure? Even if he really is serious about wanting to change his ways and try again?”
“Even then. I don’t love him anymore. And you know what?” I sniffed as the realization hit me. “I forgive him completely. I’m not angry anymore, and I know he did the right thing. Maybe the way he did it was shitty, but even so. I wouldn’t have had the strength to call it off, and I’m glad he did.”
“OK, that’s good. No anger, plus forgiveness, is progress. Now what about Lucas?”
I sighed. “I think I’m in love with him. For real.”
“You do?”
I smiled through my tears. “Yes. I do, I love him.”
“How do you think he feels?”
“I’m not sure. I mean, he didn’t say he loved me or anything, but he sort of got interrupted right in the middle of what sounded like a promising speech. But Coco, he doesn’t want to get married. He doesn’t want a family.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he told me. Even before we admitted having feelings for each other, he said he never wants to get married. And even afterward, when we talked about the way we felt, he said he couldn’t promise anything.”
“Well, what the hell would he have to promise?”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you just met this guy, like, six days ago.”
“Five.”
“Right, five. And you fell for each other right away, so fast you probably didn’t even have time to breathe.”
I exhaled. “Yes. Breathing here has been difficult.”
“And he’s telling you he has feelings for you, feelings he’s never had for anyone before, even though he dated someone for years. And he’s willing to try to make it work between you, even though it would be long distance and he knows you hate to fly, which means he would be coming to see you a lot.”
“Well, yes, I guess so, but—”
“And you’re expecting him to process all those feelings, tell you where you guys will be a year from now, or even six months from now, and also make a promise to you that he’ll consider marriage before you guys have even tried dating?”
When she said it that way, I felt foolish and demanding. But weren’t my feelings valid? “I wasn’t asking him to propose or anything. I was just asking if he’d reconsider his viewpoint on marriage. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
