Cassidy Lane

by Murnane, Maria

Why isn’t that fair?

  Because this isn’t about us.

  What do you mean, it’s not about us? Of course it’s about us. Two weeks ago you said you wanted to come visit me, and now you’re dumping me over text message.

  No, that’s not it.

  Then what is it?

  I’m sorry.

  That’s not an answer.

  I don’t know what else I can say.

  I also invited you to my family holiday dinner AND sent you a photo of myself in my underwear. Now I feel like a complete idiot.

  Please don’t feel like an idiot.

  Easy for you to say.

  You told me you’d been hurt before, so I’m just trying to protect you, because right now I can’t give you what you want. I don’t want to end up hurting you too.

  I think it’s too late for that.

  I’m sorry. I wanted to be ready to be in a relationship with you, but I’m not.

  Nice of you to tell me.

  I didn’t expect this to happen. I think the world of you.

  Then what do you want from me?

  I want us to be friends.

  Stop saying that.

  I’m just messed up right now.

  That sounds like an excuse.

  It’s not an excuse.

  I’d rather you be honest with me than try to spare my feelings.

  I am being honest. You’re perfect, and I’m a wreck.

  Don’t say that. If I were so perfect, you wouldn’t be doing this.

  It’s true.

  She stared at her phone, incredulous that they were still talking over text message. Why hadn’t he picked up the phone to call her? Wasn’t she worth at least that?

  Why did you even bother to contact me if you weren’t ready for a relationship? You started all of this.

  Things were different then. Maybe it was wrong to engage with you, but I had no way of knowing this would happen to my mom. I’m really sorry, Cassidy.

  She closed her eyes. Could this really be because his mother had had a stroke? Didn’t people overcome much bigger obstacles all the time, especially where love was concerned? Weren’t people supposed to do anything for love?

  She threw the phone on her couch again.

  No.

  She’d been an idiot to believe he could fall for her.

  She’d been a fool to let herself fall for him.

  She never should have opened up and told him how much she’d been hurt in the past, but now it was too late. She’d shown her hand and he’d rejected her.

  He wants to be friends? Give me a break.

  Everyone knew let’s be friends was a euphemism for I’m not interested.

  She wanted to chew her nails but stopped herself.

  NO.

  She balled her hands into fists and started pacing around the living room again, her budding fingernails digging into her palms.

  He’s the one who pursued me.

  He’s the one who initiated everything.

  I was doing just fine before.

  Why did he bother?

  Why did I let him in?

  Suddenly she wanted to run, her Achilles be damned. Running would calm her down. Running would make her feel better. It always made her feel better. She rushed into her bedroom and changed, then grabbed her keys and left the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  She ran for less than a block before her lower leg started hurting too much to continue.

  Damn it!

  She slowed to a brisk walk and began pumping her arms, trying to outrace the feeling of despair she knew would inevitably catch up to her and crush the shell of indignation still protecting her. Right now she felt only anger toward Brandon, for what he’d done to her, for how he’d made her care so much about him.

  For how he’d made her believe he cared too.

  How dare he?

  Had this all been a game to him? He’d had her on her heels early on, making a point to say he wasn’t a Boy Scout, then behaving like one when they were together, seeming smitten from afar yet not acting on it when he had the chance.

  Inviting her to Tahoe before they’d even had an official date.

  Suggesting he’d like to come visit her in New York.

  Accepting her invitation to her family’s holiday party.

  He’d clearly dipped his toe in the water, but something had stopped him. She tried to pinpoint when he’d begun to pull back.

  Had he been playing with her all along?

  If that was the case, he’d won. Handily.

  How dare he?

  She walked as fast as she could, pumping her arms, breathing hard, doing her best to escape from what she knew was coming. But it was unavoidable. The anger was fleeting, and soon it turned inward, releasing a toxic insecurity into her psyche.

  Then the real pain hit, and she wanted to cry.

  What did I do wrong?

  She thought of their dinner date in Palo Alto, remembering how she’d peeked out the window as he approached the front door of her parents’ house, her body literally buzzing with anticipation at the prospect of finally being with him. Then, after all that buildup, all that flirting, all that chemistry, he hadn’t even tried to kiss her.

  Why not?

  Am I that unattractive?

  Am I that unappealing?

  Was that why he’d kept his distance?

  She pumped her arms harder, increasing her pace.

  Is there something wrong with me?

  She knew he was consumed with his mother’s health, and rightfully so, but he was a man, for God’s sake. Men craved physical intimacy, no matter how they were feeling upstairs.

  Yes, they’d shared a passionate kiss that had left her dizzy, and there was no denying the heat it had sparked between them. But they weren’t sixteen anymore. From an adult perspective, Brandon had barely touched her.

  She felt the tears welling up and shook her head in a feeble attempt to keep them at bay. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to let a man hurt her like this again. After Dean she’d told herself her heart had had enough.

  But her heart had had other ideas.

  And now it was broken once more.

  She pressed her palms against her eyes, physically trying to hold back the tears, but it didn’t work. The salty drops began sliding down her cheeks, the wind quickly turning them cold and icy.

  She coughed and choked back a sob, then looked down to hide her face as two joggers ran by in the opposite direction.

  Why doesn’t he want me?

  Why doesn’t anyone ever want me?

  She slowed her pace and cried silently as she walked, aching at the loss of what could have been, wishing she’d never gone to that reunion, yet already missing Brandon so much her chest hurt.

  Wishing he weren’t hurting too, in his own way.

  Wanting to help him but wishing she didn’t.

  Wondering if a man like him could ever fall in love with her.

  Wondering if it would ever be her turn.

  The tears streamed down her face, but she kept walking.

  And thinking.

  And longing.

  Eventually she stopped crying. She looked up at the sky, which was nearly pitch black now, save for a few flickering stars. In her haste to leave her apartment, she hadn’t brought a watch and wondered what time it was. She had no idea how long she’d been in the park.

  She felt empty inside.

  And cold.

  It was time to go back.

  She wiped the remaining tears from her face, then put her hands on her waist and stood still for a few moments, staring in the direction in which the sun had set.

  Then she took a step forward and slowly made her way home.

 
“Ms. Lane, a package arrived for you while you were out.”

  “Thanks, Carson.” Cassidy approached the doorman, who was standing behind the lobby desk holding up a clipboard. She signed the delivery slip, and he handed over a small cardboard box. She squinted at the unfamiliar return address. Who could it be from? It had been a long time since she’d received a package that didn’t say Rio Media on it.

  Once inside the elevator, she pulled open the cardboard lid and removed a layer of bubble wrap. Underneath, gracefully swathed in more bubble wrap, was a small box.

  An iconic blue box.

  The Tiffany cuff links had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “OH, JEEZ, I’M so sorry to hear that. I was really rooting for you two.”

  Cassidy leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. “Thanks, Patti. I knew it was coming, but I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.” She felt her fingers squeezing the phone.

  “Don’t let it. It’s not like he’s rejecting you.”

  Cassidy opened her eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course he is.”

  “I don’t see it that way.”

  She sat up straight. “He said he wanted to be friends, Patti. Friends. Even my mom knows what that means.”

  “I think he’s being sincere, Cassidy. You should cut the poor guy some slack. I mean, look what he’s dealing with.”

  “You really think that’s why he broke things off?”

  “It doesn’t sound like he broke things off. To me it sounds like he just put things on ice.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I really do.”

  “Well, I don’t. I knew I shouldn’t have invited him to our holiday dinner. I should have waited.”

  “Stop it. There’s no use beating yourself up about that now.”

  “It was too soon. I scared him and he bolted.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. And besides, people do plan things early over the holidays. That reminds me, I’ve got the date for the Jingle Jog: December twenty-third. Think you’ll be able to run by then?”

  “I hope so. If not, I’ll just meet you at the end.”

  “I hope so too, because otherwise Amy and I will probably be running by ourselves.” The Jingle Jog’s numbers had hovered around ten in the early days but had dwindled since.

  “I’m putting it on my calendar right now.” Cassidy reached for the pad of sticky notes on her coffee table and jotted down the date.

  “Why don’t you ask Brandon to run with us?”

  Cassidy stifled a cough. “Are you joking?”

  “Why not? You said he wants to be friends, and friends help friends get in shape, right?”

  Despite being so sad, Cassidy couldn’t help but laugh. “I just spent an hour crying my eyes out over the guy and now you want me to invite him to go running?”

  “Yep. God knows we could use the boost in attendance. It’s hard finding people willing to run around dressed like reindeer. And if he’s saying he needs you to be his friend, then be his friend.”

  Cassidy pulled her knees up to her chest. “The thing is, I have been a friend to him. I’ve been a really good friend to him.” She thought of all the conversations they’d had about his mom, his hectic work schedule, his kids. In a way, a friend was all she’d been. Or all she’d had the chance to be.

  “I’m sure you have. And I’m sure he knows that.”

  Cassidy sighed and rested her chin on top of her knees. “But I want to be more than just his friend, Patti. I’d be kidding myself to think otherwise.”

  “I think it will happen if you’re patient. You said he wanted to be ready for a relationship with you but isn’t, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would he bother to say something like that if it weren’t true?”

  Cassidy bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

  “Exactly. I think you should just take a deep breath and try not to be so upset about all of this. I don’t think it’s over yet.”

  “You really don’t?”

  “I really don’t. But for the time being, I think you should let him focus on himself, and you should focus on yourself. He’ll reach out to you when he’s ready.”

  “How do I go about focusing on myself?”

  “Come on, you know the answer to that question.”

  Cassidy glanced over at her desk.

  She did know.

  She needed to finish her novel.

  Cassidy worked until after eleven and surprisingly got a lot done. She was still sad, but Patti’s pep talk had almost erased the sting of rejection she’d felt earlier, and she was no longer wallowing in self-doubt. When she was finally done for the night, she brushed her teeth and put on her pajamas, then picked up her phone and returned Brandon’s last text, which he’d sent hours earlier.

  Hi, Brandon, I’ve had some time to think about what you said and realize I may have overreacted because I tend to associate the word friend with not interested. But I know this is about more than that. You mean too much to me now for me to bail when you might need me the most, so I’m not going anywhere. If you need a friend, I’m here.

  Within a minute he replied.

  Thank you so much for understanding. How about I reach out when things are a little better for me, and we’ll see where things go from there?

  She typed a quick text back before climbing into bed:

  Sounds great. ☺

  As she turned off the light, she was proud of herself for putting his need for support and understanding above her own for self-preservation, because that’s what true friends did.

  Or so she hoped.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “AND YOU HAVEN’T heard from him since?” It was more than two weeks later, and Danielle was finally back in town. They were seated on bar stools at the Amsterdam Ale House on a Wednesday evening. Danielle was sitting normally, but Cassidy was slouching visibly.

  Cassidy picked up her beer and frowned. “Not a word. So much for being friends.”

  Danielle shrugged. “I wouldn’t read too much into it. I’m sure he’ll get in touch soon. Like he told you, he just needs some time until things settle down for him. It has nothing to do with you.”

  “You sound like Patti.”

  “Well, Patti is clearly a very smart woman, if I may say so.”

  Cassidy set her glass on the bar and looked at her lap. “I just feel so…foolish.”

  “Do not feel foolish.”

  “Believe me, I have good reason to.”

  “Why?”

  Cassidy made a pained face, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I…sort of…texted him a racy picture of myself.”

  Danielle’s raised her eyebrows. “Nude?”

  Cassidy shook her head. “God no. Just in my underwear.”

  Danielle waved a hand dismissively. “Then don’t worry about it. Not even for one second.”

  Cassidy kept her voice hushed, “Have you ever done something like that?”

  “Of course. Many times. Who hasn’t?”

  “I haven’t, or hadn’t. Not even close.”

  “That’s not surprising, coming from you. Can I see it?”

  “You really want to?”

  “Hell yes, I do.”

  Cassidy pulled her phone out of her purse and scrolled to the photo, then hesitated before showing it to her. “You promise you won’t laugh?”

  “Please. Your butt is way smaller than mine.” Danielle wiggled her fingers at the phone. “Now hand it over.”

  Cassidy bit her lip, then did as she was told.

  Danielle raised her eyebrows at the screen. “Looking good, Ms. Lane.”

  Cassidy made a sheepish face. “I still can’t believe I did that. It was so unlike me.”

>   “Now that’s what you writer types would call an understatement. But you look really good in this picture, especially for a woman our age. If I looked that good in my skivvies, I’d be posting photos of myself all over the Internet.”

  “No you wouldn’t.”

  “OK, you’re right, I wouldn’t. But you shouldn’t regret having sent him that photo. If anything, it will be a reminder of what he could have had.”

  Cassidy smiled. “Thank you for always being so nice to me.”

  “It goes both ways. Remember that. I’m not nice to everyone.”

  “I just can’t believe we went from texting all the time to nothing so quickly. I even changed the chime of my message alert the other day. It was making me too sad because I kept hoping they were from him.”

  “Oh, hon, I’m so sorry. After the frenzy you two were in, the silence must be really difficult. But you’re right to give him his space until he’s ready to get in touch again. Have you been staying busy to keep your mind off him?”

  Cassidy sat up straight on her stool and managed a genuine smile. “Actually, yes. I finished my book two full days before the deadline, a new record for me. My editor was elated. I’m meeting with him tomorrow to talk about it.”

  “You really finished it?”

  Cassidy smiled again. “I did. I sat down at my desk and focused, and the ending that needed to happen finally revealed itself, and then everything leading up to it came pouring out of me. Funny how getting your heart broken can stir up the creative juices.”

  Danielle gave her a sad look. “I’m glad you finished it, but I hate that you have a broken heart. It hurts me to hear you describe yourself that way.”

  Cassidy’s smile faded. “It hurts me too, but it’s the truth. Looking back, we were clearly doomed practically from the start, but for some reason I thought things were going to work out. I really did. Maybe it was because I write romances for a living, but after the promising beginning of our story, I certainly didn’t think it would end before it even got off the ground.”

  “Why would you have thought it would end? No one ever thinks it’s going to end at the beginning, right? Even I don’t think that way.”

  “Yes, but even when the red flags were staring me in the face, I kept holding on to the hope of a fairy-tale ending.” She felt her shoulders droop slightly. “In a way I still am, which I know is crazy, but I can’t help myself. I still have all these…feelings for him, which makes me feel so foolish.”