Page 28 of Kiss Me, Maybe

“Do you still talk to them?” she asks.

“Here and there.” I shrug. “They think I’m making it all up for attention because of an elaborate lie I told them the summer after high school.”

“So they’re still assholes, then.”

“It’s my fault for lying in the first place,” I say. “And it was based on a half-truth. I went on a date with this guy who had a crush on me and tried to reciprocate his feelings. It never felt right, though. As soon as he tried to kiss me, I knew I’d made a mistake. It wasn’t what I wanted, and when I tried to tell him that, he yelled at me for leading him on. I was so embarrassed. My parents were right on the other side of the door and heard the whole thing. When my dad asked me what happened, I burst into tears on the spot.” I try and wave off the memory with a light laugh, but Krystal’s horrified expression lodges it in the back of my throat.

“Angela.” She stares at me for a moment, a flurry of emotion I can’t read in her eyes. “High school was hell for you, wasn’t it?”

“Understatement of the year.” I say it casually, but the memory still stings. “It was years ago. He was a complete jerk about it, but he was kind of right. We shouldn’t have gone out. I went about it the wrong way—”

“Stop.” She places a hand over mine, her voice determined. “Don’t you dare try to put the blame on yourself. If he acted that way, he’s the one in the wrong. You didn’t deserve any of that. And I want to strangle your cousins with my bare hands.”

“Thanks, Krystal.” She squeezes my hand tighter, and I let out a deep breath that deflates the tension in my shoulders. It’s like her touch is anchoring me to the table, to this conversation, giving me the courage to keep going. “I only wish I was able to figure all this stuff out sooner. Sometimes I think if I knew myself better back then, I could’ve solved all my problems.”

“I get that. Believe me.” Her thumb has started to trace circles on my wrist. A shiver runs down my spine, and I try to gauge my body’s reaction to her touch. The sensation isn’t nearly as strong as her warm breath on the back of my neck, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some definite… stirring going on.

“I didn’t come out as bisexual until three years ago,” she continues. “I was already an adult and dating a man at the time. I almost didn’t see the point.”

There are so many tiny details in that one small statement, I almost don’t know which thread to pull first. In the end, I latch on to the most pressing one.

“Was it serious?”

“Serious enough to consider marriage,” she says, laughing derisively. “I thought I loved him. I just… couldn’t see myself married. Even though it was something I tried really hard to convince myself I wanted.”

Wow. This is probably the most Krystal has ever talked about herself. If we’re exchanging confessions, hers comes in the form of a bombshell.

She was almost married.

“What happened?” I ask, ignoring the jump in my pulse. If she moves her thumb a fraction of an inch down my wrist, she’ll feel it too.

“We were engaged for three months before I told him I was having cold feet,” she says. “He took back the ring and we tried to salvage our relationship for six more months before he ended it.”

I note the detail, that he was the one to end things, and wonder if she has any regrets. But it’s not as if I can just come out and ask her.

“I’m still not really sure what I was so scared of,” she continues, looking down at the table. “Why I couldn’t just go through with it. I only know that I’ve never felt more stifled in my life than when I put on that ring.”

“Was it the concept of marriage, or the thought of marriage with him in particular?”

“I’ve asked myself the same question so many times. There was nothing wrong with him. I truly did care about him and was open to sharing a future with him. I’m just not sure that’s the same thing as love.” She shakes her head. “He was a great guy. I should’ve loved him. I don’t know why I didn’t.”

It’s hard to imagine her in the life she’s describing. There’s nothing stifled about the Krystal I know, pouring drinks with a wicked grin, hair undone and as untamed as her soul. I can’t see her wasting so much time trying to salvage a relationship with someone she didn’t love.

I’m not sure what to do with this new information. We’re in such wildly different places—I’ve never been kissed, and she was almost someone’s wife. I’ve never been in her position, not even close, so I’m not sure what to say. I don’t fault her for being unsure. It’s a feeling I’m well accustomed to. The best thing to do in a situation like that is to step back. She did the right thing. I should tell her that.

Instead, what comes out of my mouth is, “Have you ever been in love before?”

For a moment, she looks stunned. She holds my gaze and then shakes her head, smiling ruefully. “No,” she says. “If that relationship taught me anything, it’s that love isn’t really for me.”

Wait, what?

My face must say it all. She lets out a laugh, but there’s no mistaking the edge in it.

“Don’t give me that look, Angela. Some people are meant for love, and others like me just… aren’t.” It’d be easier to believe her if she didn’t sound so defeated. “I’m fine. I promise you.”

“I don’t believe that.” I quickly backtrack, realizing what I said. “About the love thing, not about you not being okay.” Although, maybe she isn’t as okay as she wants me to believe.

“Listen, I know you mean well. Truly.” Krystal squeezes my hand before pulling away. “But I’ve been through thisconversation before in a thousand different ways, mostly from people content to talk at me rather than to me. The short version of this story is that I don’t want to put another person through what I put Isaac through.”Isaac.Her ex. “It wouldn’t be fair to them, and I don’t think it’d be fair to me either. Not when I already know what the outcome will be.”

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