“I don’t want to burden you with anything, Jillian. It’s bad enough that I can only see you once a week. I’m not going to ask you to do my fucking laundry.”
I stared at him. “I don’t understand. Are you never going to let me into your regular, everyday life because you think I won’t find it romantic? I’m thirty-one years old, Levi. I get that life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Relationships aren’t always whiskey and sex. There are good times and bad. Beautiful things and ugly things. Rib eye steaks and fast food hamburgers. It’s not either, or. I don’t expect you to be perfect all the time.”
“Shhhh, hey, come here. Don’t get upset.” His tone contrite, he reached for me again, pulled me down. “I know what you’re saying. I promise I do. I just…” He squeezed my arm. “I just want this for a little longer, OK? I want it to be only us, whiskey and sex. Beautiful things. We said we’d take it slow, right?”
Immediately I felt bad for pushing. “I’m sorry.” I threw my leg over him again. “I know we said we should go slow. I just love you and want to be close.”
“Me too.” His voice went husky, his hand covered one breast, and his cock stirred beneath my inner thigh. “What do you think about getting close in the shower before we get dressed?”
I slipped a hand between his legs. “I’m all for it.”
• • •
“God, I couldn’t even look Bob in the eye at checkout,” I said as we drove back to Traverse City. “And Jenny’s face was so red!”
“I know.” Levi laughed as he switched to the left lane. “We gave them a night to remember, that’s for sure.”
I groaned, slapping my hands over my hot cheeks. “I think you were right. Hotels from now on.”
“Definitely.” Levi patted my leg and then left his hand there, steering with the other.
I looked out the window as the scenery rolled by, happy we’d had such a great night together, and grateful for all the birthday surprises, but something nipped at the edges of my contentment. I felt closer to him than ever before, and yet I still felt this reluctance on his part to really let me in. Even though I know we said we’d go slow, it was hard not to feel a little hurt that he didn’t want me to meet his family yet. Especially his son. I understood the need to be cautious, but from what he’d said this morning, it seemed like he wanted to keep me separate from his home life for the foreseeable future, while we enjoyed the beautiful things. But for how long?
And I was glad that he’d smoothed things over with his mom and that Scotty had been fine last night, but that would make it even easier for him to lead two lives—one where he was with me, and one where he was Dad.
I wanted to know both sides of him.
Why wouldn’t he let me?
• • •
In the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, I became Levi’s Girl Friday again, and we’d have our one incredible night together—twice he was able to stay over—and I’d go Saturday through Thursday missing him and wishing he was ready to take the next step. My feelings for him grew stronger, and he told me he loved me every single day. I believed him, but I also grew increasingly nervous that while our feelings continued to grow, our level of commitment had somehow stagnated. It was always us alone, and once we’d met up with Skylar and Sebastian for dinner, but he’d yet to introduce me to his son, and when I invited him to Sunday dinner at my parents’ house, he always had a reason why it wouldn’t work. More than once, I’d offered to come to his house on a Friday night, but he never wanted me to, and his reason was usually sexual.
“I know, it’s totally selfish of me,” he’d said tonight in my bed. “But I can’t bear the thought of having to go another week without being this close to you. Without getting my mouth on you. Without making you come.” Then he’d moved down my body and buried his face between my legs, making it impossible to argue with him.
I know. It was selfish of me.
Because I did want the sex every week. I craved it. I loved our phone conversations and our texts too—I’d never been emotionally needy or clingy, and my job kept me so busy during the week, the days went quickly. But there had to be more, didn’t there? Maybe I was the only one who wanted it. Maybe he didn’t see the future for us that I did.
I decided to ask.
As he pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, I lay on my side watching him, my hands tucked under my head. “Hey.”
He looked at me. “Hey.” Then he came over and planted a kiss on my shoulder. “You look way too good lying there. It’s tempting me to stay.”
“I was hoping we could talk about that.”
“Sorry my mom couldn’t do the overnight this weekend. I was hoping for it too.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
He glanced at me before pulling his sweater on and sitting to tug on socks and shoes. “Oh? What’s up?”
Be brave. Be brave. Be brave. “I feel like you don’t want me to meet Scotty.”
He sat up straight. “That’s ridiculous. You know I do.”
“It’s been two months, Levi. When?”
“Soon. I don’t want to rush it, Jill. He’s had so much trouble with school this fall, and then with me going away overnight…” He ran a hand through his hair. “Plus, I like keeping our time together sort of sacred. Private. Romantic. Don’t you?”
“Of course.” I frowned. He was hard to argue with. “But being a father is such a huge part of your identity. And I hear you talk about it a lot, but I feel like I’m not allowed in to that huge part of your life. I just want to know why…is it because you don’t think this will last? And you don’t want to introduce me to Scotty because you’re planning on leaving me when the sex gets old or something?”
“Of course not.” Immediately he pulled me up against him, gathering me in his arms. “I love you so much. And I’m sorry if I’ve hurt your feelings by not introducing you to Scotty yet. I just…it’s a big deal, Jillian. It’s not something I take lightly.”
“I completely understand that,” I said, fighting tears. “But you’re not something I take lightly. I miss you when we’re apart all week long.”
He exhaled, resting his chin on my head. “Somehow, in my mind, it’s easier to balance being a good father and being in a relationship with you if I keep it separate. No confusion for me, for Scotty, or for you. When I’m at home with him, I’m Dad, and when I’m with you, I can completely devote myself to you. It’s a respite for me.”
I nodded. Hadn’t I known that already? Hadn’t I, in fact, relished the idea of being his respite, his escape from everything that made him feel as if he wasn’t enough? Now I was adding to that, and maybe he’d leave me because of it.
Don’t ruin this with your stupid insecurity. He loves you and you love him. Let that be enough for now.
“I understand.” I sniffed. Took a shuddery breath. “I’ll try to be more patient.”
He kissed my head. “And I’ll think some more about the introduction.”
“Thanks.”
We kissed each other languorously, his arms wrapped around me, and some of the tension and fear and unanswered questions melted away.
But some remained.
• • •
On Thanksgiving, which I spent at my parents’ house with my family and he spent in Charlevoix with his, my sisters wanted to know how things were going. The three of us stood in the kitchen, Natalie making stuffing, Skylar peeling potatoes, and me slicing the ends off green beans. Our mother had gotten the turkey in the oven earlier and had gone up to take a shower, and our dad was watching football in the family room with Miles and Sebastian.
“It’s going fine,” I said, forcing a casual tone. “He’s at his mom’s house today.”
“No plans to meet his son yet?” Natalie asked. Her ultrasound had recently revealed she was having a son, and both she and Miles were over the moon. Skylar was still insisting it could be a girl, and refused to believe she’d been wrong.
“Nothing concrete,” I admitted. “
But I keep telling him I’d like to.”
They exchanged a look.
“What?” I said, looking back and forth between them.
Skylar cleared her throat. “We’re only hoping you don’t get hurt. He seems really into you, and it’s obvious you’re into him, but it feels like he’s asking you to be his side dish.”
My cheeks burned. “That’s not true. You have no idea what it’s like to be him and have to balance being a full-time single parent, work a full-time job, and have a relationship.”
She held up both hands. “You’re right. I don’t.”
“He’s doing the best he can,” I snapped.
“Easy,” said Natalie. “Skylar didn’t mean to attack Levi. We think he’s great. We only mentioned being worried because we can’t imagine being in a relationship with someone you love where you only see that person once a week.”
“It’s hard,” I admitted. “I don’t love that part of it.” And I knew I shouldn’t jump down their throats for seeing the same things I did and asking the same questions. But I couldn’t help but defend him.
“As long as you two are communicating, that’s the main thing,” Skylar said. “Fuck what we say or anyone else. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”
Her apology was what brought a few tears. “It’s OK. The truth is, I want more than he’s giving me too, but I feel like I can’t ask for it.”
“Why not?” Natalie was indignant.
“Because I’m scared he’ll leave.” The tears spilled over. “We made this agreement when we first got together two months ago or whatever, that we’d go slow and be cautious. I said I understood not being his first priority, and he warned me he could never give me all of himself. I still get that.”
“But what?” Skylar rubbed my arm. “I feel like there’s a but coming.”
“That sounded dirty,” Natalie whispered.
I laughed ruefully, grabbing a tissue from a box on the counter. “The but is that I want more. I’m OK not having all, but I want more than he’s giving.”
“Do you think he’s capable of giving more?” Skylar asked.
“Yes,” I said firmly, swiping at my nose. “But he’s stubborn. And convinced he has to balance things this certain way, with me on one side and his son on the other. He feels safer that way, I guess.”
“I don’t get it,” Skylar said. “Safer how?”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to betray Levi’s confidence by revealing the things he’d told me, but I also needed some advice. “I think he’s afraid. The night he first told me he loved me, he admitted that he was scared he couldn’t love us both enough. As if he only had so much love to give, and by giving some to me, it meant less for his son. Maybe he’s thinking if he really lets me in, he’s a bad father.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Natalie put a hand on her belly. “Showing his son that he loves someone and lets himself be loved is a wonderful thing.”
“It is,” I agreed, “but he has a lot of guilt over not wanting a baby before his son was born. Part of him still feels like he has to make up for that.”
“But where does that leave you?” Skylar pressed.
I sighed. “It leaves me wondering what I originally wondered. Is there a place for me in his life or not? But…I’m scared to ask. I love him now. What if the answer is not?”
“OK, I know I’m the baby sister here,” said Natalie, “but I have to say from experience, staying in a relationship where you’re not happy just because you’re scared of what will happen when you ask the hard questions is a bad idea.”
“I second that.” Skylar held up one hand. “In addition, there have to be truthful answers. If Sebastian had been honest with me about his relapse when it started instead of waiting until the breaking point, it could have saved us a lot of pain.”
I tossed my tissue in the trash and washed my hands. “So you think I should say something more?”
“Yes,” they said together.
“But what? I’ve already said that I want to meet his son, and I’m ready. It’s Levi who isn’t. Do I say do it or else?” Groaning, I tipped my forehead into my hands. “I don’t want to issue any ultimatums. That is so not me.”
“I don’t think you have to put it that way,” Natalie said. “But I do think you’re worth more than you’re getting. I wish you believed that.”
“Me too,” said Skylar.
I nodded, feeling the tears threaten again. I had a decision to make. Could I be content with what I had with him for now and trust that it would grow to be more over time? Or should I ask for more, believing I was worth it, and risk losing him?
I spent all of Thanksgiving Day worrying.
I arrived at my parents’ with a pie that Jillian had given me to bring, a cherry pie her mother had baked.
“How sweet,” my mother said, taking it out of the box and leaning in to smell it. I had the urge to do that too, thinking it would smell like Jillian.
Jesus. I was messed up.
“When do we get to meet the famous Jillian?” my mother asked, setting the pie on the counter. “You could have brought her tonight, you know. Did you invite her, like I asked?”
“She’s with her family,” I said, avoiding the question. Later, at the table, I fretted so much I could hardly eat.
Jillian was getting restless. I could feel it. And she had every right to be. It was wrong of me to keep her from meeting Scotty. She loved me and she wanted to be part of my whole life, not just my Girl Friday anymore. Could I blame her?
I didn’t like it either. From Saturday through Thursday, I thought of her every other minute. So many times I caught myself wanting to bring up her name to Scotty, so it wouldn’t be such a shock to bring her into our life as someone who was important to me but completely unknown to him. A gradual approach would be better.
And she would be so great with him, wouldn’t she? She’d understand his mind and his quirks and his sweetness better than anyone could, not only because she loved and understood me, but because she was a pediatrician, which meant she’d dedicated years of her life to helping kids feel better. What more could I ask for?
She’d been totally right about the lucky stone idea. After the Thursday math test debacle last month when he’d wet himself in the attempt to get out of school, I’d purchased a satiny smooth Petoskey stone for him at a gift shop and told him it was a lucky rock. He kept it in his pocket at school, and when he felt anxious about a test or an assignment, he’d take it out and hold it in his hand or put it on his desk where he could see it.
When I’d thanked her for the idea and told her she was brilliant, she’d blushed and said how happy she was to be of help.
So why the fuck was I so scared of taking the final step and letting her all the way in?
I’d made a thousand excuses in my head—it was too soon, it wouldn’t be right for Scotty, it would take away from our alone time, she was only saying she wanted to meet him to be polite, my family would criticize me, Scotty might act up…
But the truth was, I was scared.
And I hated myself for it.
But I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she wanted me that much. That she’d be willing to stay once she saw that some days, I was barely holding things together. That she’d be willing to love a child that wasn’t hers for me, when I hadn’t been enough to make even his own mother stay.
I hadn’t loved Tara, so her leaving didn’t hurt me, but her abandonment of Scotty had scarred me in a different way.
There were times in the last eight years when he’d needed a father and a mother, when I’d needed someone with whom I could share the beautiful, painful honor of bringing him up in this world, someone who understood the blame I placed on myself when things didn’t go well for him, the way he could break my heart and put it back together again.
I hadn’t counted on falling so hard for Jillian. What if Scotty took to her and she didn’t take to him? What if she did but decided she couldn’t handle the wa
y we had to live? What if letting her in only meant revealing to her all my weaknesses?
What if she left? Then what?
When Tara left, it had been hard, but it hadn’t broken me. I’d been solely concerned with my son.
If Jillian left, it would break me.
And maybe I would deserve it for my shortcomings.
I couldn’t put it off forever. But I had to protect myself a little longer.
The week after Thanksgiving, Levi and I made a date to do some Christmas shopping at the mall and have dinner. I knew it was pointless to ask, but I did anyway.
“Does Scotty want to come along? We could go out for Italian after.”
“No. He doesn’t do well at the mall. Too many sounds, smells, noises. It’s overwhelming for him.”
“OK.”
The week after that, Scotty was sick and Levi didn’t feel it would be right to leave him. “Poor thing,” I said. “What does he have?”
“Just a virus, I guess. We saw the doctor this morning. He’s pretty miserable.”
“Why don’t I bring you both some dinner? I don’t have to stay. I can see you for a minute and bring you something to eat so you don’t have to cook.”
“You’re sweet to offer, but no. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
“I’m a pediatrician, Levi. I’m around sick kids day in and day out.”
“I know, but it’s OK. If my mom comes down tomorrow, maybe we can have coffee or something.”
My stomach churned. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
We hung up, and I was so worked up that I went to the gym and got on the treadmill, walking fast and hard for forty solid minutes, huffing and puffing, my anger boiling inside me.
This was not OK. It was one thing to accept being less than the top priority in his life; it was another to accept being treated as if I were frivolous, insignificant, good for a laugh or a fuck, but not essential.
Some Sort of Love: A Happy Crazy Love Novel Page 17
