The very memory of how hurt she’d been made my heart ache. Having this conversation with Aaron, finally telling someone about this, felt so damn liberating. It’s what I needed, but at the same time it was eye-opening. Terrifying. Hearing Aaron put into perspective the way he felt about his relationship with Mia made complete sense.
It was exactly what Edi and I had been doing all this time. Hoping. Even if I tried to justify it by telling myself Edi must know it wasn’t going to work, we’d both always known. Like Mia, Edi was likely hoping our love would conquer even the most impossible of obstacles. And just like Aaron couldn’t help not feeling for Mia what he knew she wanted him to, I couldn’t either.
“I’m just grateful now that in all the years we were together,” he said pensively, “we never got pregnant. I probably would’ve been miserable, but I would’ve just hung in there for the kid’s sake.”
“Really?” I asked a bit surprised. “Forever? Even if you weren’t happy?”
He nodded as if he had no doubt about that.
“That thought had actually crossed my mind about you and Mia. That it was odd, for as long as you two have been together, you didn’t at least have a kid yet. In this day and age, that’s so common now. So she never got pregnant?”
“If she had, I’d be a dad,” he said.
He explained about the one scare they’d had long ago when they were very young, and even then abortion was never an option.
“It’s not about religion either,” he explained. “I’m not one of those pro-lifers who go around trying to impose my beliefs on others. Those people irritate the shit out of me. To each his own. If my own sister decided to abort a baby, I’d support her and never judge her for it. This is just my personal thing, something I’ve always known would gnaw at me forever. I was always upfront with Mia about it, so she knew if it ever happened, no matter how young we were or what the circumstances between us were, I’d want her to have it.” He shrugged. “She always said she didn’t want kids until we were married, and knowing how I felt is probably why she’d been so careful and it never happened.”
It occurred to me, as I listened to him speak of yet another thing he clearly felt passionate about, that maybe he should be worried. If Mia had been growing anxious in the last several weeks and she knew this about him, maybe this might be a way to hold on to him. I’d heard of girls doing it with guys they had so much less time invested in. Mia had ten whopping years invested in Aaron, her fiancé who’d been showing serious signs of wanting out. Some might actually consider it the smart thing to do. Though Mia didn’t strike me as someone who would think that way. Maybe that’s why Aaron didn’t seem concerned, so I decided it was best not to even mention it.
I’d managed to get this far into our conversation without choking up, but just the thought of having to make such a huge decision and the sooner the better made my heart ache for Edi—for myself. I still didn’t know what I’d do without my best friend in my life. But this reminded me of something, so I focused on that instead.
“Do you remember that first conversation we had on New Year’s Eve?” I asked
Our eyes met, and my breath caught because his gaze was as intense as I’d only seen it a handful of times. “Of course.”
Those two little words held the weight of everything that had been building between him and me, and I stared at him for a moment longer before going on.
“Remember how I got a little . . . emotional during that conversation?”
“I remember everything about that conversation, Henrietta.” He gazed at me with the sweetest smile, turning my knotted-up insides to mush again. “You were upset that Edi wasn’t speaking to you.”
“Yes.” I nodded, trying not to look as dreamy-eyed as he made me feel. “But what made me emotional is you pointing out that you thought I was more level-headed than Bea. You were sure I put more thought into any life-altering decisions than she did, and I knew that night that, when Edi got back from California, I was going to be making a huge decision that would definitely change my life. I know now and I knew it then that I’d be making it with my heart and not with my head.”
We were interrupted when room service knocked on the door with the wine bottle on ice and nicer glasses than the ones we’d been using. Aaron had just finished tipping the guy and was starting to pour us each a glass when there was another knock at the door.
This time it was the pizza. The conversation was derailed momentarily as we made small talk about the wine and the pizza, which was delicious. I welcomed the break in topic because, despite it feeling so good to finally be able to talk about all this, it’d begun to feel too heavy.
Aaron was in the middle of telling me about the best pizza he’d ever had—in Chicago—when his phone rang, and his expression became noticeably strained. He lifted the phone but sent it to voicemail. “I love my mom, but I’m in no mood to listen to one of her lectures right now.”
I smiled and nodded in a show of understanding as I bit into my slice of pizza. I thought maybe he was going to go back to his story of the best pizza he’d ever had. It’s why I nearly spit out my pizza with his next question.
“So, you’re not gay then?”
Chapter 14
Aaron
I hadn’t planned on saying anything tonight or maybe ever. I was afraid it’d make things too uncomfortable. I was afraid she might think it better if she quit and that I’d lose the chance to at least be friends with her. But after the revelation Henrietta had just laid on me, I figured I had to. It was clear now that what I’d thought I’d imagined feeling from her was not all in my head, but even more important . . .
Henrietta wasn’t gay.
What’s more she’d practically said it. She was only with Edi because she was afraid of losing her best friend. My heart went out to her because I could completely relate to the grief I knew I’d feel once I lost my best friend. Only I had other friends. Tons of family members. Henrietta had told me about her aunt in the past. They’d never been that close, so that’s probably why Edi meant so much to her, but just like my relationship with Mia, theirs was doomed too.
I could see it in Henrietta’s face. Hear it in her voice. She was terrified. Now her overly emotional reaction on New Year’s Eve made even more sense. I knew my admitting anything to her tonight about what I was feeling for her was a risk, but not saying anything was an even bigger one.
This was no different from what I’d already wasted so many years on. Saying I could continue to work with Henrietta as close as we’d been working—taking more trips like this one and being able to keep my feelings for her under wraps—was insane. There’s no way I’d ever be satisfied with just a friendship with her. And waiting months, possibly years, pretending I wasn’t in love with her was just as stupid as what I’d done with Mia.
So if telling her how I felt was going to ruin things between us, then I may as well get the inevitable out of the way sooner than later. I didn’t have to put it all out there. I shouldn’t yet anyway. I was still technically engaged to Mia. But after tomorrow, I’d be a free man. I figured I could at the very least start laying the ground work. Plant the seed.
She finished chewing and took another sip of her wine before answering my question.
“No, I’m not,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I know that doesn’t make any sense since I am in a relationship with my lesbian girlfriend, but before her, I’d never been attracted to women. I’m still not. This type of thing is not as uncommon as you might think though. It actually happens a lot.” She glanced down and fidgeted with her napkin. “Sadly, I’ve known from the very beginning the odds of things actually working out in the long run are slim to none.”
“Well, I know all about being in a relationship for the wrong reasons,” I said, taking another bite of my slice of pie.
I chewed quickly when I saw she was beginning to tear up and suddenly I felt like a dick. As soon as I was able to swallow what was in my mouth, I started to backpedal.
“I don’t mean to say yours can’t work out, Henri—”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s true. I knew from the beginning it was a huge risk that I might not be able to go through with such a change in my life. I just wanted it to work so badly. I don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.”
That last comment was barely a whisper, and she dabbed her eyes with her napkin. I’d never felt such an urge to hug and kiss someone’s tears away, but I didn’t trust myself. If I had her in my arms, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from trying to kiss her, and I was not about to take advantage of her vulnerability.
“Do you really think she’d just cut you out of her life completely if it doesn’t work out between the two of you?”
“I do,” she said, looking a little more composed now.
“Are you sure?” I offered. “Maybe if you two talk and you tell her you tried because she means so much to you but you can’t. It’s just not you, but you’d really like to stay friends. It may not ever be as it once was, but you could maybe still keep in touch. I know it’s easier said than done, but I’m going to at least propose the idea to Mia.”
She chuckled, suddenly surprising me, but I had to smile. When she entered my room tonight looking so fresh faced and comfortable, yet still as beautiful as ever, I knew I was in love. I’d never been so sure of anything in my life. My dad had been right. I still wasn’t sure how to explain it, but I loved everything about her. Even the tear-streaked, red-nosed, disheveled look she was sporting at the moment.
“Good luck with that,” she said, pouring herself more wine. “Mia seems like a real spitfire. I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but something tells me she’d tell you where you could stick your proposal. Especially given the fact that I’m sure she won’t be entirely convinced your breaking things off with her has nothing to do with me.” She seemed to catch herself as her eyes widened, and she brought her fingers over her mouth. “Maybe I should slow down with the wine,” she said, pushing her glass away. “I didn’t mean to imply that she’d be right—”
“She’s not—”
“I know,” she said before I could finish. “I just meant since she’s already thinking that then—”
“She’s not entirely wrong either,” I said and waited a moment as she stared at me silently. “I’d be lying if I said I’m not attracted to you, Henrietta. How could I not be? I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable or change things between us, but I’m just being honest. I’m not surprised Mia picked up on it, but it’s not the reason why I’m breaking things off with her, so please don’t look so alarmed.”
Her expression eased up, and I smiled, incredibly relieved.
“I’m not alarmed,” she said softly.
“Or surprised I’m sure.” I smirked, trying to play off how damned nervous this conversation was making me, but I was determined to get through it. “I’ve sure as hell had a hard time being discreet about it, but believe it or not I’ve tried.”
“I’m flattered,” she said, glancing down at her napkin.
“I’m only telling you this because, after Bea let you know what Mia was thinking, I’m sure you were wondering. I just thought I owed you an explanation rather than let the question linger the way I’m sure it has since she told you.”
I pushed her glass toward her, hoping she’d take a sip, because she sure as shit looked as if she needed one now. If she’d started to catch a buzz, I was certain my declaration had just killed it. She picked up the glass and took a very small sip.
“I’ve never been good at lying, so I figured I may as well come clean. I may not be breaking things off with Mia because of you, but you’re partly the reason why I finally came to the conclusion that Mia really isn’t the one for me. If I can still be this attracted to someone else, then something’s wrong. But I mean it when I say I hope this doesn’t change anything between us. This isn’t something I started feeling overnight. So I promise things won’t change just because I’ve told you. Not for me anyway. I’ll continue working with you just as I have all this time.”
“It doesn’t. It won’t change things for me either . . . ”she began, visibly uncomfortable, making me cringe.
God damn it!
I was instantly second-guessing myself. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it out there like that. Maybe I should’ve waited a little longer. And then she continued.
“I probably will talk to Edi when I get back too. She’s not such a spitfire as Mia.” She smiled meekly. “So I’ll see if I can work up the nerve to propose what you suggested. Because it really is beginning to feel like it’s inevitable. But in a way if I do, you’re also partly the reason why I’d be doing it. Your manning up and letting Mia go even after all the years you’ve been together is inspiring. It’s just so hard because she’s all I have. I really don’t want to lose her friendship.”
Glad that she didn’t get up and excuse herself for the evening after my admission and even more pleased that she was seriously considering ending her relationship—because of me, even if that was different from doing it for me—I decided to play it safe and stick to a safer more comfortable subject.
“How old were you exactly when you two met?”
For the next hour, or maybe it was longer, the time flew as she told me all about how she first met Edi, everything they’d been through, and how they’d grown so close. I didn’t think it possible, but hearing her candid explanation of all the years she’d lived with the fear of losing her best friend was heart-wrenching, yet it made me even more fascinated with her. I hadn’t a single doubt now that I’d done the right thing by being honest about my feelings for her. The entire time I sat there enthralled with her she recounted her entire relationship with Edi, from the annoying moment Edi told Gemma she could’ve made Henrietta’s first few days in her new school less painful if she’d introduced them sooner, to the conversation she’d had with Edi earlier in her hotel room.
I was still enjoying the afterglow of hearing her say today had been perfect and feeling a little guilty about how good that felt despite that she’d just admitted to feeling so disappointed that Edi hadn’t been as excited as she’d hoped. Then her phone beeped.
Henrietta read whatever was sent to her, and she was quiet for too long. She glanced up with a frown. “I should go.” Her smile was a somber one. “I feel guilty. Edi knows what Mia thinks, and I know she wouldn’t be thrilled that I’ve spent all this time with you here in your room tonight, especially if she knew what we’d been discussing: my doubts about my relationship with her. Plus, it’s late.”
She stood up so suddenly it caught me off guard. “Sure,” I said, gathering myself quickly, and stood with her. “Our flight isn’t until later in the afternoon tomorrow. Check out isn’t until noon. You can sleep in if you want, and then we can go grab a bite to eat before heading to the airport.”
“Sleeping in sounds good.” She glanced at me with a smile. “Today has been a long day, so I probably will be tired.”
I didn’t realize how closely I was following her until she stopped suddenly at the doorway and I nearly collided with her. She turned around to face me as I took a step back, but I was still so close to her that my heart pounded.
“Thanks,” she said softly—sweetly. “I’ve never told anyone about Edi and me, not even Gemma. So this was actually the first time I’ve ever talked about it.” She smiled even bigger. “It felt really good to finally be able to share with someone.”
“Anytime,” I said, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her. “I’m here if you ever need to talk. About anything, at any time.”
She thanked me again before walking out. I stood at the door, watching her until she’d opened her door down the hall. With one last glance back, she waved with another sweet smile then mouthed the words “good night.”
Even that took my breath away. Jesus, I had it bad.
~~~
The next morning I tried to sleep in. The day before actually had been
a long one, and having not slept much the night before, I really was feeling tired, but I couldn’t sleep. I’d been tossing and turning since about six a.m., and it was past seven now. I just couldn’t stop thinking about everything that’d happened in the last forty-eight hours alone.
More than anything, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything Henrietta and I had discussed last night. She wasn’t gay. She was seriously considering ending her relationship with Edi, and now she knew how I felt. The fact that ending my ten-year relationship tonight was a distant last in the order of importance of all my thoughts was shameful, but it couldn’t be helped.
I kept obsessing about how my admitting my feelings for Henrietta had come across to her. Did I make it sound as if it were just a physical attraction? Saying it was just a physical thing couldn’t be further from the truth. I could kick myself now if that’s how I’d made it sound. I’d suspected for weeks now that what I was feeling for her was precisely what my father had spoken about all those years ago. Something I’d begun to think maybe not everyone feels when they’re in love. But after last night, I was certain it was.
What I was going to do with the new information I had was the real question now. She still seemed unwilling to risk losing her good friend, and I couldn’t blame her. As much as I believed now that I hadn’t imagined her feeling something for me, she hadn’t admitted to anything last night. Of course, that could be because she was still undecided about what she was really going to do about Edi. She did say she felt guilty just talking to me about her. Saying my feelings for her were requited while we sat in my hotel room sharing a bottle of wine, would be a hundred times worse.
I sat up on the edge of my bed, giving up on trying to sleep in. Maybe I’d go down and get some coffee and the paper. I could see I had several message indicators on my phone, and I dreaded checking them. My mom had likely left a long-winded voicemail, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I had some from Mia, maybe even Bea. But my heart thudded when I saw the name on one of the unopened texts. Henrietta. I immediately clicked on it and read it.
Defining Love: Volume 3 (Defining Love #3) Page 4
