Page 82 of One Last Shot

I think about how my relationship with Sierra has changed over the past year and a half, how we went from two people with a friend in common to two people who were actually friends. I miss Jackson every day, but I’m also glad that she and Nate getting back together allowed Sierra and me to become closer. If only Sierra hadn’t then moved away, too, leaving me in Park City with just one close friend, Lauren, and a bunch of work friends who are more like acquaintances I see all the time.

“Here’s the only thing that matters,” Sierra says. “Do you love him?”

“I mean ...” I hedge.

“Petra,” she says, her voice serious. “Do. You. Love. Him?”

“Yeah.” My voice sounds small and quiet and distant, even to my own ears. “I always have.”

“But do you feel differently about him now? Not the infatuation of the unobtainable best friend that you felt during your teenage years ...”

“That’s not what that was.”

“Wasn’t it?” she asks. “Regardless of how he felt about you then, wasn’t he your unobtainable best friend? The older guy you had a crush on?”

“He wasn’t unobtainable, I mean.”

“Based on how things turned out back then, I beg to differ.”

“Ouch.”

“But,” she says, “it doesn’t matter because your story doesn’t end there.”

Her words make me realize that Aleksandr still hasn’t told me what happened that night, why he pushed me away so abruptly.Why haven’t I asked him about that?He has definitely said that he had feelings for me then, so why did he end things like he did? Suddenly that information feels so crucial to understanding my own feelings, to knowing whether we can ever have something meaningful and lasting.

“So,” she continues, “do you feel differently about him now than you did back then? Or is this just you finally getting what you wanted?”

I consider what she’s asking as I fold another shirt. “It’s hard to separate how I felt back then and how I feel now. It feels like I’ve always loved him, but yes, what I feel now is different than what I felt back then.”

“How so?” Her question feels like a test where I need to prove to her and to myself that I’ve grown up.

“Back then, my feelings for him were based on two things, need and want. Like he was the one person who was always there for me when Ineededhim, and I loved him unequivocally in return. I was also stupidly attracted to him, and Iwantedhim to feel the same way about me.”

“How is that different now?”

“Now, I guess ...” I pause to think this through before speaking. “Now I don’tneedhim in my life. In fact, in most ways, my life is easier without him in it. Yet I still want him. Not just sexually, but I actually want his company. I enjoy spending time with him.”

“I feel like love is a lot stronger when you want someone without needing them,” Sierra says.

“Please explain.” I like this phrase Aleksandr used the other night, and I think I’m going to employ it often.

“Well,” she says slowly before pausing. “When you love someone because you need them, it’s hard to tell what that love is based on—is it really love or is it codependency? But when you love someone that you don’t need in your life, when you’re already whole and you love someone because they make you happier, better, more fulfilled—that’s a much stronger kind of love.”

I sit on my ottoman next to my almost-full suitcase. Was the love I felt for him back then based on codependency? A lot of times it felt like we were all each other had. Sure, he had his father and a ton of friends, but Niko was already away at college. I had my emotionally distant dad and basically no friends. Aleksandr wasn’t just my person, he was myonlyperson. Was the love I felt for him related to needing him in my life and being thankful he was there?

“I feel like I want to know him better, to understand him more, to know what makes him who he is now.”

“You don’t feel like you know who he is now?” Sierra asks this question like she’s considering her words carefully.

“I do know who he is now, in all the important ways. I know that he’s a great surrogate father to Stella, a loyal brother who’d do anything for his family, a dedicated teammate. He’s a good man. Do I love who he is now? Yes. But do I know enough about his past to know how he’ll act in the future? To understand what makes him tick? What makes him act and react how he does? No.”

“It’s okay to love him and still feel like you need to know him better before you can commit, you know?” Her words are the assurance I need about the conflicted feelings I’m having.

“I know. But I don’t know where to go from here.”

“Yes, you do,” Sierra says. “You need more time to get to know him, to learn about all those years you were separated, to understand him. You need time to build up that trust you lost when he walked out on you before.”

“Yeah, but ...” Time feels like the one commodity we don’t have.

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