Page 65 of Friend Zoned

“You’re already fucking it up, Aiden.” I sit up, letting out a loud groan in the process. “Jeannie!” I yell from the room. When I’m met with silence, I walk to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and shower.

When I step back into the hallway, the house is still eerily quiet. Then, I remember to check my phone, which I find in my jacket pocket. There are dozens of emails, text messages, and voicemails, but none are from her. I finally hear the front door open as I’m putting on a pair of sweatpants. I find her in the kitchen putting things into the fridge. I walk up behind her and put both hands on her shoulders. She stiffens but turns around and looks into my eyes. She doesn’t look upset. In fact, she kisses me.

“So, I’m going to make us brunch.” She walks away and pulls out a carton of eggs. “I got you some coffee.” She points to a large Starbucks cup on the tiny kitchen counter. I grab it and take a long sip before approaching her again.

“Are you mad at me?” I turn her around to face me.

“A little bit,” she says.

I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on top of her head. Of course, she’s mad. I’m away half the time, and when we finally have plans for a night out, I fall asleep for eleven hours.

“I’ll make it up to you. I’m sorry.”

“Hmm,” she says. “Why do you think I’m mad?”

“Because I fucked up our first Valentine’s Day together. I promised a night of dancing, and I—”

She puts a fingertip to my lips. “I don’t care about going out, Aid. I’m not mad about that. I’m upset because you could have been honest with me and told me you were tired. I would have planned a different night. I would have made you dinner, and we could have climbed into bed, and I would have massaged your back until you fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but you said you wanted to go out, and I wanted to give that to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Babe, going out was your idea. And lose me? Where am I going?” She gives me a playful grin. “I live here.”

“You know what I mean. I want to give you everything that you need and want in this relationship.”

“You do!” She takes my hand and drags me to the couch. Once I sit, I pull her onto my lap. “Listen, you know what’s worse than being lonely while you’re single? Being lonely in a relationship. I was married and felt alone, and he didn’t travel for work. Yeah, you’re gone a lot, but I never feel alone when you’re not here. We talk, we text, we have dinner together over FaceTime. You give me exactly what I need, and I want to be able to do the same for you. If what you need is to sleep for eleven hours, I’m going to make sure you get that.” She puts her forehead on mine. “Okay?”

“I love you.” The words leave my mouth before I can think them through, but I don’t regret them, and I won’t take them back. In thirty-eight years, I’ve never uttered those words to a woman who isn’t my mother, sister, or niece. Not until Jeannie.

She goes completely rigid in my arms, so I say it again. “I love you.” I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her tight. “You are the most beautiful soul and the best thing that ever happened to me. If you’re not ready to say you love me back—”

That fingertip returns to my lips, and I stop rambling. It’s true. If she’s not ready to say the words, I’ll wait.

“Then what? What happens if I’m not ready to say the words?” she whispers. My heart sinks, but it makes sense. She’s still healing from a bad marriage. I’m only the second man she’s ever been with. It’s not unrealistic that she would want to take things slowly.

“I’ll wait,” I tell her. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“That has no room here.” She cups my face. “My past is just that. It’s past. I thought I had my life figured out, then my marriage failed, and I had to start over. The whole thing hurt me, but it never devastated me. While going through the divorce, I wondered if I was only fooling myself because I felt fine. I was angry, but I didn’t have the types of feelings you’d expect of someone going through a divorce from a cheating spouse. I thought once it was over and I had nothing left to distract me, I’d start to grieve the loss of my marriage and the friendships, but that never happened. Then I met you, and I understood why. I was never meant for Quintin. I’m meant for you. Maybe things happening when they did is just the universe’s way of making sure we were both available when we met. So, Aiden Walsh, big bad football coach, this is my longwinded way of saying that I love you too.”

She swipes away a lone tear and presses her lips to mine. I wrap my arms around her and stand.

“February fifteenth started off with a bang,” I tell her. I spin her around, and she laughs. She wraps her legs around me, and I smother her laughs with my mouth.

“Forget about the fourteenth. February fifteenth is our day,” she says.

I take us back to her bedroom and drop her on the bed then go out of the room to get the gift bag I came here with. “We’re always celebrating these holidays late, but I promise it won’t always be this way. Close your eyes.”

She eyes the bag and sits up on the bed. She rubs her hands together in anticipation and closes her eyes. I open the first gift and put the necklace around her neck. She’s in a V-neck sweater, so the diamond pendant rests visibly just below her collarbone. “Hold out your hand,” I tell her.

She does, and I put on the matching bracelet. Next, I put on the diamond stud earrings. “Open your eyes.” She does and flies off the bed. She stands in front of the dresser mirror and admires the new jewelry.

“I love it,” she says. “Oh my God.” She runs back to me and jumps in my arms. “This is going to make my gifts look so stupid.”

“You love me. That’s priceless,” I remind her. “One more thing.” I pull one last wrapped parcel from the gift bag and hand it to her. She rips the paper like a kid on Christmas, but she looks confused when she sees the Kitchen and Baths Magazine.

“You said you hate your kitchen. Get a new one. Get a new bathroom too if you want.” I point back to the magazine. “A contractor will be in touch with you on Monday.”

She drops the magazine on the bed and looks away. “That’s too much. I can’t accept that.”

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