“Well, not you so much as your precious tax plan.”
“God forbid you admit to knowing me.”
“You know, we agreed this is how we would handle this,” I say without slowing.
“No, you agreed. It’s your rules, all the time. I’m just along for the ride.”
“My rules? You’re the one holding back from me! Don’t stand here and tell me I’m the one calling the shots.”
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and we start drawing attention from passersby, my raised voice as conspicuous as his clipped, angry one. He glances over my shoulder at the busy street and grimaces, hauling me away from the curb and over to the brick facade of a nearby storefront. It says something that—even as furious as I am—I don’t want him to drop my hand.
He lowers his voice further, probably hoping I’ll follow suit. “It’s not the same thing.”
“How is it not the same?”
“I’m doing this to protect both of us. You’re trying to hide me.”
“I’m not trying to hide you! When are you going to get that?”
He shakes his head like he doesn’t believe me. “You need to want me the same way I want you.”
“I do want you! How many times do I have to say it?”
“No. I want all of you. Not just a part. Not a fraction. The whole thing.”
“You have the whole thing! I’m standing right in front of you!”
He’s struggling to keep his composure. “No. I am painfully aware of what I don’t have, and I won’t settle for less. I’m not going to be your dirty little secret, Kate. You don’t get to fuck me behind closed doors, then pretend you don’t know me in the morning.”
My jaw drops, the air rushing from my lungs. I try to suck in a breath but can’t. It’s like there’s a hole in my chest where my heart and lungs once were. I pivot and sprint away, tears blurring my vision.
He catches up easily, grabbing my elbow. “Wait.”
“Don’t! Leave me alone. I can get home on my own.”
“I’m not going to leave you alone. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It was over the line.”
“You think?” I wrench my arm away. “Because I’m pretty sure you just called me a whore.”
“You know that’s not what I meant. I’m all fucked up today. Please, can you just wait?”
He shoulders in front of me, blocking my escape. When I hesitate, he steers me into a nearby alleyway, stationing himself between me and the street. He starts to reach up like he’s going to touch me, then thinks better of it, dropping his hand back down to his side.
“Kate, I’m just . . . frustrated. I’m running in circles trying to give you what you need, but I have no idea what that is anymore. I’m not even sure you know.”
“I need time! And for you to stop pressuring me!”
“Is that really it? Truly? Because if it is, I can give you that. I’ll give you all the time in the world. But it doesn’t feel that way sometimes. It feels like you’re trying to get me out of your system.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’ve been one foot in and one foot out since the very beginning. Don’t try to deny it.”
“You think I’m not in this just because I’m not Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky? Because I don’t know that everything’s going to work out fine? I’m sorry I’m worried about all the ways our differences could end up biting us in the ass!”
“Fine, please list all the horrible scenarios that are just waiting to befall us. I’ll wait.” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“All right, I will. What will our Friday nights look like? You dragging me to the gun range? Me dragging you to a women’s rally? How fun does that sound, Mr. Rose-Colored Glasses?”
“Sounds fine to me,” he fires back. “I’m happy to do the things you like, though I’d never force you to do anything you didn’t want to. And I’m sure you wouldn’t force me, either. We could also just go to dinner and a movie like normal people.”
Of course he has some stupid levelheaded comeback.
“What about work? It’s already coming between us. We could get fired. We’ll make everyone around us uncomfortable. Not to mention how much drama it’ll cause, today being a prime example.”
“You think we’re going to have these jobs our whole lives? In a few years we’ll both be doing other things.”
“Don’t be absurd, we’re not quitting our jobs,” I scoff.
“I could get another job in five minutes. I don’t care about the job, Kate. The job is not my life.”
“What happens when we have kids?”
He blinks once. Twice. I’ve shocked him. “Kids?”
“I teach them one thing, then you turn around and teach them the opposite. How will that work? We’d be setting them up for an identity crisis, not to mention a lifetime of pitting us against each other.”
His mouth opens, then closes. “Well, I can’t say I’ve given this one a ton of thought, but off the top of my head, we could present all sides to an issue and let them form their own views?”
His reasonable response is the last straw.
“That’s ridiculous!” I explode. “Everyone knows the whole point of having children is to indoctrinate them!”
He shakes his head, amusement warring with frustration on his face. “See, this? This is why.”
“This is why, what? Stop speaking in code!”
“You want to know why I don’t want to debate you? Because you’re looking for an excuse to run, and I’m not gonna give it to you.”
“I’m not looking to run.”
“You are. You’re scared. You’re petrified.”
“I’m not scared. Stop psychoanalyzing me.”
I shove past him and haul ass down the sidewalk. Well, now I am running. Damn. Didn’t time that very well.
“This is real and you know it.” His voice chases my back. “It’s long haul and that terrifies you.”
“It’s so long haul that we can’t go one day without having some explosive, relationship-ending fight.” I speed up as my building rises in the distance, glowing bright and resplendent as an Olympic finish line.
“You just talked about our kids!”
“I was proving a point!”
“You’re planning our future and you can’t even admit it. You’re so scared you can barely see straight. You think I don’t see it in your eyes? I’ve been looking at you for months, Kate. I’ve memorized your every expression. I know you better than you know yourself.”
I spin around abruptly and he plows into me, knocking us both off-balance.
“This is the relationship you want, then? Fighting all the time? Here’s your opposites attract, in the flesh.” I throw out my arms.
“We’re hardly opposites. Our political views may be different, but we’re compatible in all the ways that matter.” He growls, exasperated. “I can’t believe you don’t see this by now. You have so many blind spots.”
“See what?”
“We have the same values. The same approach to life. The same sense of humor. We even have the same jobs. We just have different ways of solving problems. And isn’t that what life’s all about? Learning from each other? Appreciating that another person can teach us something?”
He takes a step toward me and catches my hand. How does he do that? Go from angry to sweet in a matter of seconds?
“I’m not looking for someone who agrees with everything I say. I want someone who will call me on my bullshit. I want surprise in my life. Someone who will drive me to take more risks. Someone who challenges me.” His mouth hitches up. “And boy, are you a fucking challenge.”
At his words, I freeze completely solid. I can’t pretend I don’t hear what he’s really saying.
Ben’s in love with me.
He loves me so much
, he’s convinced himself that I’m the woman for him. No matter how badly I’ve treated him or how many times I screw up, he’ll always be right here, ready to forgive my every transgression. Even if it’s to his own detriment. Even though he deserves better.
It’s me he sees through rose-colored glasses.
“What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I feel sick. “I think . . . I need some time.”
“I already told you, I’ll give you time.”
“No, I mean . . .” It’s taking every ounce of resolve not to dissolve into a puddle at his feet. “It’s not right, what I’ve asked you to do. What was I thinking, forcing you to keep this a secret? Who does that?”
His eyebrows knit in confusion. “Did I miss a turn somewhere?”
“Any woman would be proud to be with you. You’re perfect. You deserve to be shown off. You deserve the best woman, one who’s going to put your needs first. Look at you—you’re the one who had a crappy day and you’re standing here comforting me!”
He raises a hand like he’s trying to calm a skittish animal. “I was being a dick. You were right, I was taking my shit out on you. Things at work went off the rails today. I wish I could explain—”
“Stop apologizing to me! Don’t you see? I’m the one who should be apologizing to you for wasting your time!”
“Wasting my time?” The edge in his voice is razor sharp.
“You deserve a girlfriend who’s clearheaded and supportive and appreciates how wonderful you are. Not one who’s selfish and damaged and confused. Who makes your life harder.”
“Kate, you’re none of those things. And you make my life better, not harder.” He lifts a hand to my face but I jerk back.
“I’ve done nothing but put you through the wringer since the day you met me.”
“Where are you getting all this nonsense?” He furrows his brow. “When did you last eat?”
“I’m serious! I can’t hold you back anymore. I couldn’t live with myself.”
He sighs. “And what exactly is it you’re holding me back from?”
“Your perfect woman! What if she’s out there and you’re too busy looking at me to see her? I’m so far from your perfect match, Ben.”
I wish I didn’t believe it. It’s hard enough to say the words out loud, but knowing they’re true nearly kills me. I’m not what he needs. He deserves so much better than the scraps I’ve been feeding him. I’m the one who’s not good enough for him.
“So let me just make sure I’ve got this. You know better than I do what I want. Who I want. And there’s some other perfect woman out there for me, and I should let you go because I’m missing out on her right this very minute.”
“I know you think I’m crazy, but I . . . I just . . .”
“You just what?”
I stall, gathering my nerve. I hate myself for what I’m about to do, but deep down, I know he won’t let this go—won’t let me go—unless I burn us to the ground.
“I don’t feel the same way you do.”
The words tumble out in a breathless rush. I flick my eyes to his face, then quickly away. If I look into his eyes, I won’t be able to go through with this.
“We’re not a good match. Not long-term, anyway. I’m attracted to you, I won’t deny that, but I think our chemistry’s been distracting us from the bigger picture.”
“The bigger picture.” His voice is flat.
“We’re not right for each other.”
I cough to cover the sob that nearly escapes. Every part of me wants to grab him and hang on for dear life. Instead, I force myself to keep going.
“This isn’t going anywhere, and the longer we pretend it is, the harder it’s going to be when it eventually ends. I think it’s . . . better for both of us if we do it now.”
I can barely get the words out. I stare down at the sidewalk, battling back the tears stinging my eyes.
“I don’t believe you.”
He knows your expressions. You need to sell it.
I force myself to meet his eyes. What I see in them breaks every piece of my heart: layers of hurt, love, and denial so intense that the tears I’ve been keeping at bay spill over before I can stop them.
“You don’t want to believe me, but you know it’s the truth. Our differences are going to come between us eventually. And I think . . . what you said before about wanting to get you out of my system . . .” I close my eyes as I brush away tears. God, please forgive me. “You were right.”
His lips are pressed together so hard, they’re practically white. He’s pissed as hell. “I was right.”
“Yes.”
No. I’m a filthy liar who doesn’t deserve you.
“You want to walk away from this.”
There’s a kind of disbelieving wonder in his tone. I can’t bring myself to respond. It’s one more lie than I’m capable of.
He expels a loud breath. “Fine. You win, Kate.”
“I win?”
His jaw is clenched so hard, it looks painful. “You want to push me away, I can’t stop you. I can’t force you to be with me. And I’m done trying.”
He stares at me, eyes cold and hard. The look on his face is one I’ve never seen before. Hatred.
“You know something, maybe you’re right. Maybe we aren’t a good match. I don’t live my life wondering what’s lurking behind every corner, waiting for the sky to fall. When something special comes along, something good, I grab onto it with both hands. You’re fine to let it pass you by.”
He turns away, staring into the street as cars speed past, and I use the moment of respite to rein in my emotions.
When he speaks next, his voice is impersonal as a stranger’s. “It’s cold out. I’ll drop you at home.”
“You don’t have to. You can go ahead of me.”
He glares at me. “Walk.”
I don’t dare argue with him. Besides, the quicker I get home, the quicker I can fall apart.
We cover the last couple of blocks wordlessly, Ben following several feet behind me like an executioner. When we arrive at my building, he pulls open the door and I force him to look at me.
“I’m so sorry. I never meant—”
He holds up a hand, silencing me. “Just so you know, I still don’t believe you. You’re as bad a liar as you’ve ever been. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I do know one thing—I can’t carry you over the finish line. You need to meet me in the middle, Kate. I thought we could get there together, but I see now it’s something you need to come to on your own.” His eyes soften a touch. “But we sure got close for a minute there, didn’t we?”
I watch him walk away, not moving from the doorway until he disappears around the corner.
He never turns around.
Chapter 28
On Friday I do something I never do. I call in sick.
Even if I wanted to, I can hardly go into the office looking like the puffy-eyed zombie I currently resemble. Truth be told, I wonder how I’ll ever go to work again. The idea of glimpsing Ben through the window—or worse, casually running into him, forced into awkward hellos and stilted conversation—seems like such cruel and unusual punishment that I wonder if I should spend the day updating my résumé instead of crying in bed. As a compromise I decide to embrace my forced vacation and stay in pajamas all day. I will not positively contribute to society, nor will I put makeup on. That’ll show the patriarchy.
I mope and watch soaps. I order Seamless and carb it up. Stephen calls to check on me but talking to him just reminds me of work and Ben so I rush off the phone. I stumble upon My Best Friend’s Wedding on TV and bawl. I listen to “On My Own” three times in a row before deciding that’s too tragic, even for me.
I do everything in my power to avoid thinking of Ben, but he’s taken up permanent residence in my he
ad and refuses to be evicted. When I curl up on my couch, I’m bombarded by memories of our nightly cuddling. My kitchen seems huge and empty without his considerable bulk to navigate around. I can’t watch my favorite news shows without hearing his voice poke holes in their narrative. He’s even ruined Tim McGraw for me, which is about as heinous a crime as I can imagine.
Over the course of the weekend, the kernel of doubt I felt when I threw myself on the sword metastasizes to boulder-size uncertainty. Could I have tried harder? Was I too quick to give up on us? Now that I think about it, Ben was the one bright spot in the otherwise colorless existence I’ve built for myself. What if I just threw away the best thing in my life?
I shake myself. Stop this. Stop second-guessing. I pushed him away for the right reasons. I’m saving him from himself. He wouldn’t be happy with me long-term, even if he thinks he would. It won’t take him any time at all to find someone else. He’ll meet some lovely, boring girl next door who’ll worship the ground he walks on and thank God every day he looked at her twice with those heart-stopping green eyes.
The thought nearly makes me regurgitate my Seamless.
I want someone who challenges me.
You make my life better, not harder.
I’d rather argue with you than get along with anyone else.
Throughout the next week, my boulder of doubt becomes an asteroid. I wake up each morning hoping the pain will have faded, but the vise around my heart only seems to tighten. Stephen tries to get me to open up, but I feel even more protective of the relationship now that memories are all I have left. I haven’t run into Ben, though it’s by design—I’ve stayed holed up in my office as much as possible, blinds closed. I know my limits. If I run into him and he seems fine, it’ll send me into a tailspin I’m not sure I’ll recover from.
By the end of the week, I’m barely functioning. I’m exhausted from fighting back tears and so groggy from tossing and turning, I can barely carry on a conversation. The pit in my stomach has made it impossible to eat and I’m about as energetic as a rag doll.
“Knock-knock.”
I glance up to see Tessa striding through my door, a manila envelope in her hands.
Meet You in the Middle Page 27
