Page 56 of The Dom

“You tell me something first. What is it you want from her? With her?”

“I want to do the right thing,” I said immediately. “I want this to work with Ashlee.”

“That’s good,” he said. A troubled expression settled on his face, and he looked reluctant to share.

“Spill it, Finley. I came to you because I knew you wouldn’t pull any punches.”

“I don’t know Ashlee very well,” he began. “But I know you. When it comes to business, you’ve got a competitive edge that nobody can match. You revel in things that are difficult. You’re the same way with sports and working out.”

I sensed a ‘but’ coming.

“When it comes to relationships, though, it’s different. When things get hard, you move on. You run. You don’t like it when things get too messy. In your previous relationships, it worked because you’d already decided that you both didn’t want anything complicated, but you and Ashlee decided you wanted more, and with more comes complexity.”

Everything he said was true, but it didn’t make it hurt any less to realize that my friend could see that part of me. Was I truly that transparent?

“You run by ending things, by cutting people off. You have to stop, or you’re going to lose her.”

Again, no surprises, but still not easy to hear.

“Here’s the thing…not running won’t be enough,” he continued. “If you truly want this relationship, you have to fight for it. Fight for her.”

I nodded. Now we were getting somewhere. This was what I needed to know. A list of how to fix things.

“You’re probably not going to like this,” he said, “but sometimes, fighting will look a lot like surrendering. Let down your walls. Stop protecting yourself. Trust her with the truth.”

After a minute, he excused himself, saying he needed to get something to drink, but I knew it was his way of leaving me alone to process everything he’d told me.

It wouldn’t have made a difference if he’d stayed, though. I still had absolutely no clue what to do.

Thirty-Six

Ashlee

Instead of going out for Sunday afternoon brunch, I went back home. It was funny how I had a place of my own but going back to the place where I’d grown up was always a different sort of going home.

When Mom texted me to ask if I’d mind coming out because she had a cold, I hadn’t told her yet about what was going on with Nate and me, but I’d been glad of her suggestion. I needed the comfort of familiar surroundings.

I’d meant every word I’d said to Nate, and it might’ve come across as if I’d been calm and cool, but inside, I’d been torn up. It hadn’t gotten better either. I knew what I wanted, but I had no experience with something like this. I knew how to go on dates. I didn’t know how to build something real.

Then again, it wasn’t as if Nate’s previous relationships had been anything like what I wanted either. I was willing to learn, to try. Was it too much of me to expect the same from Nate? Or was I just wrong to expect him to know what it meant to try at something real?

The one thing I did know for sure was that I couldn’t do this on my own. I needed Nate to work with me instead of against me. If he couldn’t – or wouldn’t – do that, I had to be prepared to let him go. No matter how much it’d hurt.

The moment I’d walked into the house, Mom had asked what was wrong, and that’s how I ended up sitting across from her, spilling out the whole mess before we’d even set the table. I wasn’t crying, but it was a near thing, and it didn’t fool my mom for a second.

She squeezed my hand as I finished and shook her head. “That was a tough call to make, sweetie, but I agree that it needed to be made. If you let these sorts of things slide because you don’t want to lose him, you’ll regret it in the long run.”

I was tempted to ask if that was what had happened between her and Mona, but I didn’t want to bring up something painful, not when it wouldn’t make a difference. Mona was gone, and whatever was going on with Nate and me wouldn’t change based on where Mom had gotten her insight.

“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “You can ask.”

My head jerked up, and I wondered what, exactly, she’d seen on my face. “Mom?”

“The answer’s yes, I do know from experience. There were things that Mona and I should have talked about when we first got together, but I told myself it’d be better to wait.”

I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to hear all of this right now, but I didn’t know if I’d get another chance. I’d never wanted Mom to have to call up those painful memories, but she’d volunteered them, and I still wanted answers after all these years.

Before I could ask anything, however, someone knocked on the door. Mom started to stand, but I motioned for her to sit again.

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