Maren and Will had just announced their engagement at the Morrow family Christmas celebration. It wasn’t a shock. We’d all seen it coming, the way those two couldn’t get enough of each other, the hints about weddings and forevers.
“When is it your turn? You and Lila have been together as long as us. When are you going to pop the question?” Will asked. I knew he meant no harm. It was a logical question and a logical observation.
Marriage was the logical next step.
But not for us. Not for me. Not after my past.
“Oh, no. Lila and I aren’t that kind of couple,” I said, smirking, trying to play it off.
“So no wedding plans?” Will asked for clarity.
“None. Ever. Not in this lifetime.”
I took a swig from my beer, ignoring Will’s questioning face. I turned the conversation, wanting to get out of this already uncomfortable circle of words.
I knew Maren’s ring would stir questions, would stir new conversations with Lila. I knew she said she was okay with where we stood, where I stood, with marriage.
I just didn’t expect how uncomfortable it would be. I didn’t realize how Maren and Will’s relationship was a tracking mechanism for our own and that this could change everything.
A few minutes later, Lila came strolling down the hall, the Christmas spirit gone.
“Hey, baby,” I said, wondering what had shifted in her.
“Hey,” she said, lackluster, no emotion. The typical Lila smile was gone.
There was a palpable coldness the rest of the evening. She smiled through, laughing at Grandma Claire’s wild comments and fighting with her mom. To everyone else, everything with Lila was fine.
I could see the truth. I could see that the smile she wore was her fake smile and that something was off.
It was only later on that night that I found out why.
It was later, when I found out she’d heard every damning word I’d said, that I realized we were coming undone, like it or not. And I was too cowardly to stop it, despite how much I loved that woman.
***
That night was the beginning of the end. I doubt Maren and Will realized that with their yes to forever, the no to mine and Lila’s was sealed.
We’d fought that night, hard. There were tears and frustrations. There were fears that we couldn’t get past this, and me reassuring her we could. There were questions of intentions and questions of why.
Most of all, there was the realization we hadn’t yet faced, even though we probably should have: we wanted different things in life.
And maybe, just maybe, our love wouldn’t be enough to bridge that gap.
Now, lying in bed, alone on Christmas other than Floyd, I think about last year. More than that, though, I think about today, and the regrets weighing heavily on me.
Why do I always back down when I want to step up? Why can I never man up, tell Lila what I need to tell her? Why do I always let her slip away when I want to grab on with everything I am?
Why don’t I let myself hold on to happiness?
This morning, when Lila jumped up, I wanted to reach for her. I wanted to shove away the thoughts of her new boyfriend, of our goodbye, of all the things keeping us apart. I wanted to wrap her in my arms like I had done so many times and kiss away all the tension between us. I wanted to tell her I loved her, that I always had. I needed to confess to her I don’t like who I am without her.
I was dying to tell her I’m still broken, still not worthy of her… but I’m selfish enough to want her back. I wanted to ask her to be patient with me, to help me get over my fears, and to help me be the brave man who deserves her.
But I didn’t. Old habits truly do die hard.
Instead, I’d walked away from the only woman who ever understood me, who made me want to be better. I walked away from the only woman who devastated me when we broke up. I walked away from my past but also my future—if I was just brave enough to grab it.
So now, here I am, alone, Lila off with someone else instead of me.
Maybe I deserve misery after all.
Chapter Thirty
Lila
“Hey, you,” Oliver says, pulling me in for a kiss at the door of my apartment.
“Oliver, I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” I say, truly shocked. I’m standing in sweatpants and my college T-shirt, my hair a disaster. Oliver wasn’t supposed to be back until New Year’s Eve.
“I just, damn I missed you.” He heads into my apartment, jauntily strolling toward the sofa.
I stand at the door, still trying to overcome the shock of the sight of him. It’s the day after Christmas, and I’m not ready for this.
I spent yesterday thinking about everything—thinking about what I need to do, about where I need to go from here.
And I know what I need to do. I just didn’t think I’d be doing it so soon.
“Come, sit, tell me about your Christmas. How was it? Did you miss me?”
I smile, taking in Oliver’s enthusiasm.
Over the past couple of months, we’ve gotten to know each other more than just from work. We’ve gotten to see what we could be together, and I’ve liked it. I really have.
But talking to Maren yesterday and in our subsequent conversations at Mom’s house, I’ve come to realize one thing.
I’m happy. But Maren’s right—it’s surface-level happy. Because my true happiness has already been reserved for someone else. Whether or not we’re going to be okay or make it, I can’t string Oliver along. I can’t keep pretending I’m over Luke, that I’m ready to be with Oliver completely.
“My holiday was good. But, listen, I need to tell you something.”
He hushes me, putting a finger to my lips. “Me first,” he says, and my stomach sinks.
“Listen, I know it’s only been a couple of months, but being away from you over the holiday, it made me realize something I’ve known from the first time I saw you. I know you want to take this slow, and I know things are… complicated for you. But Lila, when I’m with you, nothing else matters but you. We’re so good together. We’re like this dream team of go-getters. We’re good together. We’re unstoppable. Lila, I love you.”
I feel my mouth actually fall open. This was not how I envisioned this conversation to go.
“Oliver, I—”
He cuts me off. “You don’t have to say it back. I just, damn, I needed you to know. I needed to tell you how I feel, and I needed it to be in person. It’s why I cut my trip short. I realized I couldn’t let the new year come along without you knowing how I feel.”
I sigh. This is going to be harder than I thought. I feel the tears well because, in all honesty, I do care about Oliver.
It’s just not enough. Why is it never enough?
“Oliver, the thing is, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking too. And you’re right. Things are complicated for me. I want you to know that these past couple of months have been so great. You’re an amazing man, and I felt myself falling for you. But, the thing is, I can’t do this anymore. As much as I want to say I love you back, as much as I want this to work, it can’t. My heart is still scarred, and the thing is, I think it always will be. I think I’ve already found my forever, even if it doesn’t work out. I think I’ve found the one and only for me, and I just don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. I’m sorry.”
Oliver stares at me, the silence between us deafening. Finally, after a long, slow breath, he speaks up. “Lila, I know you’re not over the past. But I can wait. I love you.”
“That’s the thing, Oliver. It’s not fair. You shouldn’t want to wait because I’m clearly not ready to move on.”
He stares at me for another long moment. “Was I just a rebound?”
I bite my lip. I want to say hell no, which is what I’ve been telling myself all along. But I also know he deserves the truth. Tears start to fall. “I don’t know, Oliver. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you
.”
“It’s fine,” he says, but it’s clearly not. He stands up, wiping his hands as if he’s wiping them clean of me. “Merry Christmas,” he says.
I want to say it’s not Christmas, but I don’t. I’m an asshole, it’s true, but not that big of one.
He stomps across my tiny apartment, stepping over Henry who has slept through this whole torturous encounter, and slams my door so hard a picture falls to the ground.
Tears fall uncontrollably, and my vision is blurry. I know I did the right thing. But why does love make the right thing feel so bad sometimes? When is love going to get good again?
I sit for a long time in my misery, tears falling freely, feeling like shit.
Finally, it comes to me what I need to do.
I grab my bag and Henry’s leash, and I go to do what I do best when I’m struggling with life.
***
“Three peanut-butter doughnuts, coming right up,” Dot says, giving me a squeeze as she sets down the order for me and grabs a seat across from me. “I’m glad you’re back.”
I smile through the sadness and smudged mascara. “I was just in last week.”
“I mean I’m glad the peanut-butter doughnut girl is back. I’m glad the real Lila is back.”
I’ve already filled in Dot on everything—the breakup, the Luke Christmas situation, everything.
“I just feel so lost, Dot, you know?” I ask, taking a bite of a doughnut as Dot helps herself to the one usually claimed by Luke.
“I know. But you’re on the way to finding yourself, I do think. It’s a new year coming up. It’s a chance to start over, you know? Get what you want this year, Lila.”
“I think that it might be too late.”
“You kids, never listening. It’s not too late. It’s never too late.”
We sit and talk for a while about Oliver, Luke, Henry, and Dot’s grandkids. We talk like old friends, which we are.
When I’m getting ready to leave, I turn to Dot and smile. “Thank you. Thank you for being such a good friend.”
“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet,” she says, winking at me. I’m not sure what that wink could possibly mean, and I’m not sure if I want to find out.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lila
I’m tucked in on the sofa, my favorite sweatpants on and my feet tucked away into slippers. Henry’s cuddled up to me on the sofa as I watch sappy holiday movies on television, all alone in my apartment.
It’s been a couple of days since the Oliver breakup disaster, and it’s been a couple of days since I’ve left my apartment. This is not a coincidence.
Despite my mother’s annoying phone calls and Maren’s insistence I need to get out and enjoy my holiday from work, I can’t. Lila Morrow always has a plan, a direction, and an idea of where she’s marching toward in the grand scheme of things.
Without that plan, I honestly don’t even know how to function out in the real world.
Still, despite the chaos of my life right now, I don’t feel as terrible as I thought I would. I feel a little bit… free, actually.
Sitting here, wasting away the evening with Henry, I’ve come to realize that life truly is about rolling with the punches, going with it, and feeling your way through. You can’t always make rational choices or use your head to guide you.
Sometimes you have to trust your gut, your heart, and what feels right at the moment.
So, as the new year approaches, I vow to myself this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to stop looking to the future for happiness and start finding it in the here and now, whatever that looks like. I’m going to stop comparing my life to the meticulously planned timeline I set out for myself. I’m going to learn to just go with it, and smile at the surprises along the way.
But first, I’m going to spend another evening here on the sofa, doing nothing productive and enjoying every single second of it.
My phone rings, and I debate ignoring it. It’s probably Mom wanting me to come over for dinner or complain about Maren. I pick it up, curiosity and annoying buzzing getting to me.
To my surprise, it’s not Mom or Maren.
It’s Dot.
“Hello?” I ask, wondering what’s going on.
“Lila? Oh, thank God. I need you over here right away, please. There’s been an accident and there’s a dog who has been hit. We need you to get over as soon as you can. I think he’s going to be fine, so don’t worry, but he definitely needs to be checked out.”
“I’m on my way, Dot. Be there in ten.”
I flick the television off, run to my room to toss on a bra, change my slippers out for boots, and put on my winter coat.
Duty calls, and it looks like that flexibility is something I need to get used to right now.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Lila
“Dot, where’s the dog?” I ask, running through the front door. She’s standing behind the counter, smiling calmly, which strikes me as odd. Shouldn’t she be in a panic? Shouldn’t there be other people here, trying to help?
She comes from behind the counter as I breathe heavily.
“Honey, I’m sorry,” she says, “but you two needed a shove. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“What?” I ask, confused, but Dot just gestures toward a table. I take a moment and realize Dot’s is empty. Where is everyone? She should be open right now. This is always a place for teenagers and young couples to come sip coffee and ring in the holidays in a peaceful setting.
My eyes settle on something, though, in a familiar corner. The table, our table, is occupied.
By a familiar curly-haired man who looks just as awestruck as me.
Dot pulls me by the arm over to the table. “Dot, I can’t… are you serious?” I ask, a little pissed by her lies.
“Now listen, I know I lied to both of you. I’m sorry. But you two need to stop thinking it’s too late and stop avoiding it. Your love isn’t easy. I get that. My love with Louie wasn’t either. We were different in so many ways, and we fought. We had different visions and we argued like crazy. We almost called it quits a few times, and we even spent some time apart. But you know what? Easy isn’t always better. Sometimes the thing we fight the hardest is the best. I know you two have a lot of things to work out, but I believe in you. I knew from the first moment you walked through that door together you were real. You were good for each other. You were it. I don’t want you two to let your pride or some stupid notion that you can’t work through your issues get in the way. So suck it up and talk it out. I’m leaving now. Lock up when you’re done.”
I look at Luke, who is staring at Dot.
“Oh, and happy holidays,” she says, smiling.
I look down at the plate of three peanut-butter glazed doughnuts between us, an awkward tension palpable as well. I smooth my hair self-consciously as I approach the table.
I can’t believe she did this.
I can’t believe he’s here.
“So how did she get you here?” I ask quietly, almost afraid to raise my voice too much.
“Told me the roof was leaking and with the crowds of people, she needed a roofing expert.”
I shake my head and smile. “She told me there was a dog hit by a car.”
“I didn’t think Dot was so plotting,” Luke says.
I shake my head. “So,” I say just as he says the same thing.
We both sigh. Finally, I reach for a doughnut and take a bite. He does the same. “These things are so damn good,” I say.
“What the hell is in her secret recipe?”
“At this point, with all her lies tonight, I don’t want to know.”
We both eat in silence for a long time, lost in our heads and confusion. I stare at him, feeling the butterflies stirring without even a word between us.
We finish our doughnuts, the third one still sitting on the plate. Neither of us makes a move, both staring at the table, not making eye contact. I wonder if Dot’s plan will fail, if we’ll get up and leav
e this place just as we came in… separately, alone, apart.
I wonder if too much has happened. I wonder if we’re even the same people sitting here as we were before. I wonder if we could ever get back to the peanut-butter glazed doughnut eating, giggly couple we once were.
I wonder if I even want that.
Luke splits the last doughnut in half and hands it to me. We don’t touch, and we don’t joke. We simply finish our individual halves as if in ode to tradition.
“I should get going.” The words come out of my mouth perfunctorily. I want to look at him and tell him I miss him, that I never stopped. I want to tell him I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him or us since I walked out of that apartment for the final time.
I want to tell him that Dot’s right, that we were so good together. I want to tell him I was a damn fool for insisting on a certain path for us. I want to tell him I don’t care anymore if he’s a little reckless with money or if he sometimes struggles to keep his feet on the ground. I want to tell him that he’s not his dad and that he could never hurt me like that.
But I can’t because the words are stuck in my throat. So much has happened, yet nothing has happened between us these past six months.
I stand, walking away from the table. Luke follows wordlessly. We walk out of Dot’s, Luke locking up behind us. I feel tears forming, so I walk quickly, trying not to look back, the streetlight shining down like a beacon from the past.
I pause underneath it.
“Lila,” he says behind me. It’s said with a reverence, the single word floating between us in the freezing December night.
I turn to face him, the curly-haired man who, despite the past six months, I know better than I know anyone in this world. I see the familiar warm eyes that beckon me forward. Despite the distance between us, it feels like his eyes are wrapping me up. He steps toward me, bridging the gap. A silence freezes between us, the snowflakes gently falling onto us underneath the glow of the light. What should be a romantic scene is instead eerie, punctuated by an emotional distance and a fear of what will come next.
Still Us Page 21
