Hate to Love You

by Jennifer Sucevic

Her shoulders sag, and she says begrudgingly, “Yeah, I guess.”

  This was the outcome I’d been hoping for but didn’t think would actually come to fruition. To say that I’m relieved is a vast understatement. I want to pump my fist in the air but contain myself. Barely.

  Looking dead serious, she says, “Don’t make me regret this, McKinnon.”

  I grin and settle back against my seat. “Would I do that to you?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  I chuckle. “I’m going to be the best fake boyfriend you could ever ask for. You just wait and see.”

  Natalie groans and lays her forehead on the table. “You realize that this situation has disaster written all over it, right?”

  “Have a little faith, Davies. This is going to be epic.”

  I wink and laugh when she groans again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Natalie

  “Hey, Natalie, wait up.”

  Recognizing the voice, I groan and pick up the pace, hustling my ass down the path. With any luck, I’ll lose him in the crowd of students moving like cattle across campus. Reed Collins is the last person I want to speak with. After Saturday night and the ugliness he hurtled in my direction, I don’t know how he has the audacity to approach me.

  But he does.

  What a jerk.

  As tempting as it is to lump Brody and Reed into the same hockey-playing-manwhore category, they’re nothing alike. Until now, I hadn’t realized it. Yeah, they’re both players—that goes without saying—but there’s an egotistical self-centeredness to Reed that I didn’t notice until it was too late. He doesn’t give a damn about anyone else’s feelings but his own. And he doesn’t care who he hurts in the pursuit of his own pleasure either.

  Brody doesn’t strike me that way. But that’s something I’m still trying to figure out. And until I do, my guard is up, and I’ll tread carefully.

  Catching up to me, Reed slows his jog and gives me a smile full of charm and bullshit. It’s the very same one that used to make my heart hitch and bring a dreamy smile to my lips.

  Now it makes me want to throat punch him.

  “I’m glad we ran into each other.” He falls in line with me as I walk. “I was hoping we could talk.”

  “Yeah, I’m kind of in a hurry at the moment.” Even if I had all the time in the world, I wouldn’t waste a single minute of it on him. Hoping he gets the message, I give him a bit of side-eye and hasten my pace. “Maybe some other time?”

  Or never.

  Never works just as well. In fact, it’s preferable.

  “Where’re you heading?”

  “Brighton.” I keep my eyes focused straight ahead. Even looking at him makes my blood boil.

  “What a coincidence. I’m going that way, too.”

  “Awesome,” I mutter under my breath.

  Without any further preamble—which I can appreciate—he gets straight to the point. “So, what’s up with you and McKinnon? Are you two really a thing?”

  My mouth falls open as I stop in my tracks. This guy is unbelievable! “Seriously? You embarrass me in front of a ton of people Saturday night, and instead of apologizing like a normal human being, you want to know if I’m dating Brody?”

  He blinks in confusion and gives me a what’s the big deal look. “Yeah, that’s what I asked.”

  I laugh.

  Why?

  I have no idea. The way this guy’s brain works is impossible to understand. I’m not even going to try. And the fact that I wasted four months of my life on the asshole only makes me laugh harder.

  A flicker of annoyance crosses Reed’s pretty-boy features as the giggles roll off my lips. Deciding to ignore him, I walk away.

  “Hey.” He grabs my arm and hauls me over to the grass so we’re no longer in the stream of student traffic. “I’m not done talking to you.”

  The laughter dies a quick death as my brows lower. “Wanna bet?” I try jerking my arm free. When his fingers tighten around me, I growl, “Let me go, Reed. You and I have nothing further to discuss.”

  All polite pretense falls away. “I want to know what’s going on between the two of you.”

  “Excuse me?” Who does this guy think he is? The extent of his douchebaggery is almost mind-boggling.

  “Why are you slumming it with McKinnon?” he snaps, eyes narrowing. “If you’re doing it to fuck with me, it’s not going to work.”

  I rear back like I’ve just been slapped. “You’re insane to think that you have any bearing on the decisions I make. You stopped being a consideration a long time ago.”

  “Sure.” Reed rolls his eyes. “Cut the crap, Natalie. I know you’re still pissed that I dumped you.”

  I gasp and fire back, “If you remember correctly, it was me who dumped your ass. Not the other way around.”

  He smirks, and I’m tempted to slap the smile right off his face. “Only because you found out I was getting a little side action. Come on, admit it…we had a good thing going. You should have chilled out and overlooked it.”

  I fist my hands and try to rein in my temper so I don’t explode. But that feels impossible. “Are you suggesting that the appropriate action would have been to turn a blind eye to your screwing around?”

  He reaches out with his other hand and trails his knuckles over my cheek.

  I scowl and bat it away.

  “None of it ever meant anything. You’re the girl I liked having by my side. I saw a future for us.” He shrugs. “At the time, I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

  The scary thing is, I think he’s being serious. He wanted to have his cake and eat it, too.

  Or maybe I should say, he wanted to have his pie and eat it, too.

  “So, I was just supposed to stand there like a dumbass while you fucked all the puck bunnies you wanted?”

  A cocky smile curves his lips. “Is that really such a big deal? It’s not like you were into having sex.”

  The blood drains from my face as I choke out, “Excuse me?”

  “I have a high sex drive.” He shrugs. “You didn’t. Plus, you didn’t know what you were doing. Maybe you should have watched some porn and gotten a few ideas. If you had tried spicing things up, I wouldn’t have gotten so bored.”

  I can only stare in shock that all of this nastiness is spewing from his mouth.

  “You know what?” I jerk my arm away again and this time, he releases me. If he hadn’t, I would have junk punched him. Hard. I’m not going to put up with his manhandling. “I can’t believe I let you take my virginity,” I hiss, stepping toward him. My hands are still balled. My nails dig into my flesh. “And I can’t believe you’re trying to blame me because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

  He holds his palms up. “Look, we’re getting off topic here.”

  “Off topic?” I shriek. “Are you kidding me?”

  My elevated voice doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

  “Yeah. What I’m trying to say is that if you’re so desperate to have me back again, I’m more than willing to give you another shot. You don’t have to stoop to dating McKinnon to get my attention.”

  I can only shake my head. “You’re delusional.”

  Not taking my comments seriously, he chuckles. “Am I delusional or am I right in thinking that you’re trying to make me jealous?”

  “Delusional. And I sincerely hope you get the help you so desperately need.”

  “Why else would you be with McKinnon, huh? You couldn’t stand that guy when we were together.”

  “My relationship with Brody is none of your business.”

  “Listen, babe, we both know that I’m the one you want.”

  “You,” I emphasize, “are the last person I want.”

  “Whatever you say.” He walks toward the crowd of people on the pathway. “Whenever you’re ready to stop playing games, just shoot me a text.”

  “Don’t hold your breath!” I shout.

 
; He gives me a little wink and disappears into the crowd.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Natalie

  Two weeks before Christmas last year, my dad dropped the bomb that he was leaving my mother. After twenty-something years of marriage, he was walking away. I still remember coming home from college and finding my mom sitting in the living room, looking shell-shocked. She’s the one who told me that my father was upstairs packing his bags.

  He’d fallen in love with another woman. Life, he’d said by way of explanation, was too short not to be happy and if he didn’t seize this opportunity while he still had the chance, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

  When Mom brought up the possibility of counseling, he told her his mind was already made up, and he wasn’t interested in trying to fix the problems. He just wanted to be free to live his life.

  I have no idea if he realized that when he walked away from my mother, it felt like he was walking away from me as well. I may have been twenty-one years old, but their separation cut me to the bone.

  For the last nine months, I’ve avoided all contact with Dad. I’ve been so angry that he blew our world apart. And it’s not that I’m any less mad, but I’ve decided that maybe it’s time for us to sit down and talk. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to resolve anything today, but I have to try.

  Since I’m the first to arrive at the restaurant we chose to meet at, the hostess shows me to a table. This is the first time I’ve agreed to meet with him, so you’d think he’d be on time. He’s not. Already it feels like we’re getting off on the wrong foot.

  After he walked out, Mom was a mess. She’d been a stay-at-home mom for twenty years. All of a sudden, she needed to rejoin the workforce and find a way to support herself. It took months for her to pull herself together, but she did it. I came home every weekend so that she wouldn’t be alone in the house. A friend of hers, who owns a real estate company, talked Mom into taking a real estate class so she could get her license. Once she immersed herself in the course and helped out with a few open houses, she realized just how much she enjoyed selling real estate. It’s been great for her self-esteem.

  Taking a sip of water, I glance at my phone, feeling annoyed that Dad still isn’t here. Ten minutes late and counting. If he really wanted to sit down and work things out, he’d make an effort to be on time. I have too much going on to sit around waiting for him to show up.

  I’m giving it five minutes.

  If he’s still not here, I’m leaving.

  Just as I start to gather up my purse and phone, I see Dad walk into the restaurant. He glances around the dining room, and I raise my hand in a half-hearted wave. Even though this is my father and we enjoyed a close relationship before he left, I’m still nervous. He smiles and moves in my direction.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” he says. “Sorry about being late, I got held up in traffic.”

  I stand, and he takes me in his arms. I can’t help but notice that he’s wearing a different cologne than he used to. As we break apart, my eyes slide over him.

  He’s wearing…jeans.

  Not only are they fitted, but they’re distressed as well.

  I can’t remember the last time I saw Dad in jeans. He’s always dressed in a suit or Dockers during the week and sweatpants and T-shirts on the weekends. As he slips out of his leather jacket—another article of clothing I don’t recognize—I notice he’s wearing a patterned button-down with the sleeves rolled up.

  It’s like I’m sitting with a stranger. He doesn’t look like the man I remember.

  Not knowing what to say, I blurt, “You look different.”

  Instead of taking offense, he smiles. “New haircut.”

  Now that he’s mentioned it…His hair is cut much shorter on the sides and is spiked with product in front.

  I wave a hand toward the rest of him. “Your whole look is different.” I try to keep the accusation out of my voice, but it’s difficult. Dad spent twenty years dressing the same way and now he looks like some old guy pretending to be younger than what he is.

  I can just imagine whose idea the haircut and clothes were.

  He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Seemed like it was time to freshen up the wardrobe. Out with the old and in with the new.”

  A pang shoots through me.

  Am I part of the old that needed to be thrown out? Whether he realizes it or not, that’s the way it feels.

  “You look nice, Dad,” I say because I don’t feel like I can share my true feelings with him. That it looks like he’s trying too hard to be something he’s not.

  “Thanks.” He looks sheepish. “I haven’t worn jeans since college. It’s taken a little getting used to.”

  “Then why are you wearing them?”

  He shrugs and picks up the menu the hostess left on the table for us to peruse. “Just trying something new. Trying to get out of my comfort zone.”

  I nod, but don’t say anything further.

  He asks how school is going and what my plans are for after college. He tells me about his new apartment and that he’d like me to stop by sometime and check it out. I make the appropriate noises but remain noncommittal about it. Seeing his place would make the divorce more real, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.

  Once the waitress stops by to take our order, it seems like we’ve run the gamut of superficial pleasantries. Silence falls over us.

  Dad clears his throat. “I’m glad you agreed to meet me. I’ve been wanting to sit down and talk to you for a while now.” There’s a hint of reproach in his eyes. “We shouldn’t have gone this long without communicating.” When I don’t respond, he sighs and pushes onward. “I know the divorce hasn’t been easy for you, and I’m sorry for that. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

  I want to laugh. Or cry. My heart feels like it’s beating a painful tattoo on my ribcage. Is he really naïve enough to believe that his leaving wouldn’t affect me? That I was going to be ambivalent to my parents breaking up just because I’m twenty-one years old and out of the house? Honestly, it didn’t make a damn bit of difference. Having your parents split up at any age sucks. It turns your whole world upside down.

  “We’ve drifted apart over the last nine months, and I want to fix that. What happened between your mother and me had nothing to do with you.” His eyes search mine. “We both love you more than anything.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He reaches across the table and squeezes my fingers.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Nat. No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little girl.”

  Those words are like a much-needed balm for my soul.

  I lick my lips, unsure if I should ask the one question that has been pounding through my head. “Now that you’ve had some time apart, do you think there’s any chance you and Mom can work things out?”

  Sadness washes over his expression. “I don’t think so.” He shakes his head and sighs. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not the answer you wanted to hear.”

  Tears fill my eyes. I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding out hope that they’d find a way back to each other. You hear stories like that all the time. Sometimes people just need some space to work things out in their heads, and then they come back and are better partners because of it.

  “I know it feels like the divorce came out of nowhere, but it didn’t. Not really. Your mother and I hadn’t been happy for years. And it took me a long time to figure out that I didn’t want to continue living like that. We were just getting on, day in and day out.” He shrugs. “With you away at college, it seemed like my decision to leave would be less impactful. There wouldn’t be any custody arrangements to deal with.”

  “It doesn’t matter how old I was,” I say quietly. “You walking away hurt.”

  Pain flashes across his face. His voice turns deep and husky. “I never left you, Nat. Not ever.”

  “That’s what it felt like.”

  He glances away. “I’m sorry. I knew my dec
ision would affect you, but I’d hoped you would be old enough to understand where I was coming from.”

  Air leaks from my lungs. “I think it’s just going to take time for me to get used to all the changes. It’s a lot to deal with.”

  “I can understand that. I don’t want to push you, but I don’t want to be iced out of your life either. Can we make a promise from here on out that we’ll at least talk on a regular basis? If you’re angry about something, tell me.”

  My lips curl, and I nod. “I can do that.”

  “Good.”

  Our dinner arrives, and the conversation once again turns light, which is a relief. There’s been enough heaviness for one evening. I need time to digest everything we’ve discussed.

  Every once in a while, his phone dings with a text. He glances at it and types out a quick reply.

  “Sorry,” he says after the third one.

  “It’s fine.” I assume it’s work and don’t think much of it.

  Once our plates get cleared away, he asks if I want dessert.

  Duh. Of course, I do. I haven’t changed that much in nine months. “Have you ever known me to turn down dessert?”

  “Nope. Never.” He chuckles. “Stupid question, right? Dessert has always been your favorite course.”

  It’s totally true.

  Once dessert arrives—chocolate lava cake for me and apple pie à la mode for him—it feels like old times. I can almost pretend nothing has changed. That our family is still intact.

  I might have walked in here dreading this meeting, but I’m happy we did this. I wish I hadn’t been so stubborn and agreed to sit down with him months ago to hash out our feelings. Not only have I been mourning the fact that my family is no longer together, but I’ve been grieving the loss of my dad. After he walked out the door, everything shifted between us.

  But maybe now, moving forward, it can be different. Better. We can spend more time together. Next year, who knows where I’ll live and how often we’ll be able to see one another. It’s important that I get our relationship back on track now, while I can still repair it.