Love You...Never

by Francesca Penn

  I know her mind is hovering around my eight-year single streak. Surely, she’s done the math at this point. I smile to myself; it would blow her mind if I told her why I remained single. I’m the antithesis of a commitment-phobe. I’m hyper-committed to her which was unfortunate until recently.

  Okay, I’m aware of one of the elephants in the room. Why haven’t I kissed her? I’m in love with her, but I don’t know what she feels about me. What does that matter? Kissing has been romanticized in the romance world. It’s the ultimate symbol of we’re together. Don’t roll your eyes; I didn’t make the rules. They have commercials, songs, and poems about special kisses. Made for television movies end with a kiss once the characters work out all their bullshit and decide to be together.

  I just want to make sure that when I kiss her, she knows I want to be with her forever. Yes, I’m aware I could get her pregnant. But, crazily, not even that is a symbol of love. Have you ever heard of a baby momma? Don’t worry; I also think it’s backwards that sex is somehow less intimate than a kiss. But it is; I just want to kiss my future Mrs. I’ve held out too long to have anything less. It didn’t even feel right kissing Amy.

  “I’m not a commitment-phobe,” I argue. “I just like to choose carefully.”

  Caris perks her lips with non-belief and places both boxes in the cart. She pushes the cart forward giving me a hand signal to follow. I wonder if she knows how domestic it is to grocery shop together. My t-shirt drapes off her shoulder as she moves. I’d washed her clothes last night before our shower, but she didn’t want to wear the same thing twice lest she ran into someone she saw yesterday. It’s the same message to me: my shirt says she stayed at my place last night just as loudly as a repeat outfit would. To each its own, I guess.

  I’m fine with this way though. It claims her as mine in a way she doesn’t recognize. I happily follow her around as she places items she wants to cook for dinner in the cart. Yes, dinner. She woke up and never left. Not that she could, her car is not at my house. We’re picking it up after the grocery run. In case you’re wondering, we’ve done a lot more than have sex. We watched television, caught up on each other’s families, and talked about work.

  Honestly, she doesn’t need me this week. Everything is done on my end. The fashion show and onward is on her. I have her website in order, her social media is on fire, and the traffic online and in-store has almost doubled. She was doing good alone, but now her business is fantastic. The Eros line is projected to sell out the first day of the release. Not to mention, Remy The Media Magnet, was spotted by the paparazzi leaving Thrills and Frills with his very happy fiancée both carrying more bags than they could count. You cannot buy that kind of publicity.

  I freeze when she cuts through the Valentine’s Day aisle. I fucking hate this section. It’s already bad enough that they have huge bears, hearts, flowers, and themed candy peppered throughout the store; Having a section filled with every ounce of pink and red bullshit one could stand, is overkill. Don’t get me started on the unnecessarily huge cards. This aisle can suck my balls.

  I’m not crazy; I know the reason I hate the season has been attached to my cock and wormed her way back into my heart, but this aisle is still a reminder of the most mortifying moment of my life. I want no part of it. We’re better, but we’re not completely healed. We still have to discuss it and move on with the future. Hell, we’re hardly discussing the now. I’ve been to the store in the last twelve years. I ignore this section and move on with my shopping. I’ve been in Caris’ face for almost a month, and we’ve navigated that to the best of our ability. Yet, somehow seeing Caris in the Valentine’s Day aisle has me suddenly unsure of myself.

  What does a panic attack feel like? Does it involve sweating, a rapid heartrate, and shortness of breath? If so, I need to back away slowly. Caris turns and shoots me a questioning look. I can’t speak. I just shake my head negatively. My vision blurs a little, and I close my eyes. No, I’m not a grown man who’s felled by some paper hearts and candy. This scene is a reminder that the person I love the most – body and soul – may not love me at all. Ever.

  That’s the issue. If I find out I’m just sex to her, it will be the crushing blow that would kill my already fragmented heart. I don’t think it can survive rejection twice. I pivot slowly and find the frozen food department. I open one of the doors and stick my head inside to let the air soothe my soul. This is not going to work. I can’t live in the unknown, even if it is for Caris. My life has order, and this is chaos.

  All the bullshit evaporates. I can no longer accept the terms of our relationship. I toss the plan to wait until after Valentine’s Day; I need to know where I stand right now.

  Chapter 22

  Caris

  “We need to talk.”

  Emiliano’s words roar in my ears. Never has a good conversation ever started with those words. ‘We need to talk’ starts wars and ends relationships. If it doesn’t, whatever the person has to say is dire news for someone. Best case? It is the precursor to a very awkward and uncomfortable conversation. Either way, when I parked my car in Emiliano’s driveway and rang the doorbell. ‘We need to talk’ were not the words I’d expected to hear.

  I glance at my car and ponder if I should just run. If he’s about to tell me to kick rocks, I don’t want to turn into a weepy mess. That can’t be it, right? He dropped me off at my house for me to get my car. If he wanted to get rid of me, wouldn’t that have been the time to do it? Our day has been going great. Perfect even. Then I walked down the damn Valentine’s Day aisle.

  I know he’s given up on love. I know he hated the holiday. I didn’t know that it would somehow give him so much anxiety that he would refuse to walk down the aisle. He not only refused, it looked like it was a phobia; like he would have to face his worst fear. I feel bad for both of us. Him for being so negatively affected by love gone wrong, and me for not being able to really have him after all. Sex is one thing, but intimacy is another. I want both, but he’s only capable of giving one.

  I must soldier on, though. “Uh. Okay.”

  Emiliano allows me entry, but the warm guy he was becoming is gone again. The chilly, closed off version of himself remains. I guess I won’t be cooking for him today. I suppress a sigh and hope for the best.

  He sits in his recliner, and my stomach drops. Doesn’t that set the tone? He doesn’t choose the sofa or loveseat that would allow me to sit next to him. He opts for seating for one for the first time this weekend.

  I settle across from him on the loveseat. “What’s up?” I can’t stand to be in suspense any longer.

  Emiliano’s serious eyes studies me for a moment before he speaks. “Look, I know we called a truce, and it’s been a delightful reprieve, but a truce doesn’t solve the core issue.”

  I stiffen, but I don’t interrupt. Am I the core issue? This is it. This is when he tells me the project and his time in my life is over. He got what he came for; thanks for playing. I grip my keys tighter but don’t speak. I’ll let him get his thoughts out. If he tries to offer me a consolation prize again, I will strangle him, though.

  Emiliano takes a deep breath and scrubs his hand over his face. “And for the life of me, I have no idea why you hated me so much in high school.”

  Oh, Lord. My irritation spikes almost immediately. He can’t be that person. How could he do something so terrible and not remember? If anything, how can he sit there and act like he doesn’t remember when he’s able to remember random things like my strawberry allergy and birthday?

  I would hope that after all the sex we had, he would at least give me the courtesy of being straight with me.

  “Are you serious right now, Emiliano? You have no recollection of any possible reason why I would’ve been mad at you in high school?”

  He shakes his head slowly. “No, I’d gone over it a lot when I was younger. I have no fucking clue. That’s why I’m asking. What happened?”

  “Valentine’s Day is what happened,” I huff.
/>   “What about it?”

  “You know!”

  Emiliano frowns, irritation returning to his face. The same face that I’d grown used to being directed at me. “I believe we’ve established that I don’t know.” There it is, that intelligence-questioning tone. “Were you jealous I smiled at Amy or something?”

  “Amy? Our disagreement had nothing to do with your precious Amy.” My ire rises when he smirks. If there is some kind of inside joke, I’d love to know about it.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Not funny, just a tinge amusing you would say her name like that. Are you sure jealousy wasn’t a factor?”

  A little bit, but that was after his note. “Amy is the least of my issue with you.”

  “Then, what is it?” he almost yells.

  “Your note.”

  Emiliano’s frown deepens. “What about it?”

  “It was mean, that’s what!”

  “Wow. If you thought my note was mean, what do you consider nice?”

  “The exact opposite of the shit you gave me.”

  I can’t be sure, but I believe hurt flashes in his eyes before he jumps up to his feet. “This conversation is over.”

  “What? Just like that? You want to know what pissed me off then dismiss me when you don’t like the answer. How could you believe it was a nice note?”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago; nothing is going to be resolved.” His voice suddenly sounds tired. “I’ve been spinning my wheels for twelve years. I don’t have the energy anymore.”

  “REALLY? Instead of taking ownership for something you did, you go the Eeyore route?”

  When he looks at me again, the Emiliano I’d encountered a month ago is staring back at me. No trace of warmth to be found in his entire being.

  “I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t need to hide a teenage boy’s decision. I didn’t do anything to you. I’d spent a lot of time on that note. If you didn’t appreciate it, I can’t make you.”

  “I didn’t do anything to you. There wasn’t anything to appreciate. You were being an asshole.”

  I watch as he flinches and moves towards his room. “Lock the bottom lock on your way out,” is the last thing he says to me.

  Emiliano

  My mood is dark. Pitch black to be exact. My emotions oscillate between fury and hurt. As a man, my recovery is faster than my teenaged self because we’ve been here before – crushed by Caris. I rack my brain for any hint of assholery on my part; I just can’t find it. I don’t need to be at Thrills and Frills, and I’ve exercised that right all week. I’d given Loli Monday and Tuesday off because I didn’t want to lash out at a pregnant woman. She didn’t deserve a glimpse of the thundercloud I called a personality.

  I sigh when I hear my phone chime again as I park in my spot.

  Amy: Ready to talk?

  Emiliano: Nope

  Amy: Come on, Milano.

  Emiliano: NO!!!

  Amy: You’ll probably feel better.

  Emiliano: I’ll feel better when you leave me the fuck alone.

  Amy: *Angry Emoji* Fine! I’ll let you simmer longer. Just know, you’ve earned yourself a karate chop to the balls, though.

  I smirk a little because she is small enough to deliver.

  Emiliano: I meant, leave me the fuck alone, please.

  Amy: Slightly better, jackass.

  Amy follows her last text with another one containing nothing but a row of middle finger emojis. I snort the closest thing to a laugh I can muster. It’s only been three days. Amy acts like I’ve been holed up in my house for a month. I make my way into the building and board the elevator that will take me close to my office. My goal is to focus on work and nothing else.

  I enter Loli’s office space; she stands to greet me (something she never does) with heartbreak shining in her eyes. It's obvious she’s been talking to Amy. Amy doesn’t know the details beyond the text I’d sent her Sunday telling her Caris can kick rocks. I don’t mean it, but that is where I am right now. How could she hate my note so much? How could she take my telling her I’d love her forever (I don’t remember my exact words, but that was the gist.) as asshole behavior? Unfortunately, the only person who has the answers is the last person I want to talk to right now.

  “Good morning, Lo-. What in the hell is all of that in my office?” My voice raises to an octave that makes her flinch.

  My office is filled with Valentine’s Day bullshit. Balloons, candy, flowers, and a card are some of the items in my office. That’s just what I can see from the door.

  “Sorry, sir.” Sir? “You have a surprise visitor. She was already here before I arrived. I was about to call security…”

  “Who?” I growl. I swear if it’s Caris, my rage will be nuclear. She knows first-hand I don’t like this shit, and I will see it as one of her ploys to fuck with me.

  “J-jessie.”

  My head starts to throb; Jessie follows directly behind Caris for the biggest pain in my ass. At least part of me loves Caris. All of me despises Jessie. What part of one-night-stand or casual sex did she not get?

  I take a deep breath then exhale slowly. “Loli, get all of that crap out of my office then take the rest of the day off. I do not want you in the crosshairs of my mood.”

  “Emi, baby! I thought you’d never arrive!” Jessie peeks out of my office and smiles at me like we’re in love. She is equal parts crazy and beautiful. My eye twitches.

  “Loli. The week. Take the week.” I look at Jessie again. “What in the hell is wrong with you, Jessie?”

  “I want to give us another try!” She announces it as if her news will excite me.

  I rub my temples and wait until Loli and all the bullshit Jessie brought is out of the office. Jessie approaches and attempts to hug me. I move out of her reach.

  “Are you fucking serious? There is no us. We met at a bar and had a one-night-stand MONTHS AGO! What in the hell are you smoking?”

  She batts her big gray eyes at me as she pushes a strand of her chocolate hair behind her ear.

  “But…”

  “No buts, Jessie. I told you then that sex was all I am capable of giving. That hasn’t changed. You can’t just show up to my office with a bunch of crap and expect that to change my mind. We’ve had this conversation before.”

  Jessie looks over my shoulder for a moment with the same teary eyes she had two months ago. “I’m sorry. I know it only happened once, but if you’d just give me a chance…”

  “No.”

  “But you’ve never kissed me. Maybe if we kissed…”

  I’ve had enough. I can’t nurse a broken heart and deal with crazy at the same time. “This isn’t some Disney movie nonsense where kisses are magical. It’s not going to make me love you.” To an outsider, I would seem harsh, but Jessie is slow on the uptake. I’ve been turning her down for months, and she just comes back stronger. I’ve told her the same thing before, so I punctuate each word this time. “Good sex doesn’t equal love. I. DON’T. KISS. WOMEN. I. DON’T. LOVE! I didn’t kiss you because I chose not to kiss you. Leave me alone. If you come back again, I’m calling the cops and pressing charges for harassment. Do you understand?”

  I hear a gasp just as Jessie performs her usual dramatic exit – running out while crying. I used to feel bad but seeing the same show five times kind of kills the affect.

  I turn to find Caris staring at me with her hand over her mouth. Of course, she would visit my office the day I’m shooting down a crazy woman.

  I don’t speak; despite her timing, I’m still pissed at her. It doesn’t matter that she looks delicious in a form-fitting green dress. My heart hurts.

  “I’m the new Jessie,” she spits.

  Ah. Because jumping to conclusions is the proper thing to do.

  “What are you doing here, Caris?”

  “Well, I came to speak to you since you didn’t show up.”

  I wave my cellphone at her. “That’s what these are for, remember?”
/>
  Caris’ face pinches with irritation. “Dang. That was fast. I’m already getting the royal treatment.”

  I look heavenward for patience. I can’t take her constantly painting me as a bad guy when all I ever wanted to do was love her. I hate being villainized while I’m willing to give her everything. I just want to break apart in peace. Seeing Caris hurts too much especially when she’s looking at me like I used her and threw her away. I need to be alone.

  “Is the reason you’re here related to your rebrand?”

  “No…”

  “Then we have nothing to talk about.” I enter my office. Caris is still staring daggers at me when I close my door in her face.

  Chapter 23

  Caris

  I’m miserable. Internally, at least. Externally, I have a stupid smile plastered on my face as I pose for another release party photo. My flawless make-up, hair, and outfit conceal my inner turmoil. If emojis could bounce off humans in real life, I’d be sending out eye rolls, frowns, angry faces, and crying faces. I will this night to be over, so I can continue my mope-fest. I miss Emiliano, but I shouldn’t.

  After he kicked me out Sunday, I went home to think about our disagreement. I was angry at him for not being honest with me, but as the night stretched out without any trace of him, I began to question if it mattered who started it. Hadn’t we gotten along fine as adults when we decided to play nice?

  I was willing to set the past aside if that meant we could have a future or at least get to the point where it didn’t feel like my life was somehow empty without him. We’d had an amazing weekend up until his freak out. I’d had a chance to just be and not obsess about having him like and respect me. He’d given me a glimpse of paradise and snatched it from me.

  Wednesday, I was ready to give it all up. I’d hyped myself up to go to his office. I planned to bare my soul. I was going to tell him that two days without him was enough time to know I’d rather bury the hatchet and go on the way we were than be separated over bullshit. I know he has issues with love and Valentine’s Day, but I was willing to overlook it. I don’t want to be his enemy.