Page 84 of Love You, Mean It

“No, you meant it. You might even be right. I have to imagine your father would feel the same way.”

And when he turned to me, the look in his eyes was one of such intense loathing that it made my skin sting.

Already a shoreline of mucky shame was appearing, inch by inch, as the flood of rage receded. I’d had to pull the Band-Aid off, sure, but I hadn’t had to reach into the wound beneath and tear it open with filthy, wickedly sharp claws.

“Theo…”

“Please just go.”

This time, he didn’t wait for me to make it inside before driving away.

Upstairs, I threw my coat over the sewing chair, stepped out of my shoes, and beelined for the cabinet with the whiskey, pouring a generous glass and taking a swig, relishing the sinus burn. As the alcohol hit the muscles of my shoulders, pressing painfully on thetension there, I made my way into the living room, settling onto the sofa with a loud protest of the ancient springs.

I looked around, forcing myself to really take it in. The coffee table was scuffed, and ugly to begin with, a hulking mass of dark wood–look MDF, the cheapness of the materials even more obvious in the overwrought scrollwork at the edges. My “dining table” was Formica and bent metal, which I’d told myself was retro-chic when I found it on Craigslist, but where the surface wasn’t stained, it had yellowed with age and neglect, and rust crept gangrenouslyup the legs. The kitchen wasn’t just dated—half the cabinets didn’t close right, and the linoleum was peeling at the corners. And the ratty, ancient inherited sofa wasn’t even comfortable, just one more reason not to spend any more time here than I had to. Looking around at the mostly bare walls and random assortment of junk I’d accumulated to fill out the minimum requirements of an adult life, the only thing that really felt likemewas the sewing table. And until very recently, it had been my makeshift coatrack. That is until Sam helped me see what should have been incredibly obvious ages ago: that the creative part of me didn’t have to be stuffed down in one of the several boxes I still hadn’t unpacked since I moved back from New York, it could be part of my life here, could make that life better, more successful, more my own. I mean fuck, napkins weresuch a no-brainer.

The whiskey was just making me more jittery. Leaving it on the coffee table, I hauled myself out of the maw of the couch and did the only thing I could think of that might help.

Bella picked up on the first ring.

“Everything okay?”

“It’s…I mean, I think…”

And then I burst into tears. As if I needed anymorehumiliation tonight.

After some general soothing, Bella started pulling the story out of me, slowly at first—to explain why I’d gone nuclear, I had to own up to what was going on with Sam, which took a while. Bella didn’t actuallysayshe was judging, but I knew her too well to tell myself otherwise. Soon it all started gushing out—how things had shifted between Theo and me even before that first kiss on my doorstep, the night we spent together on his couch, how badly wrong the tennis game had gone, the fiasco at the restaurant…and after.

“Oh, El,” Bella said, voice low and pained.

“I know,” I whispered. “I don’t know why I said it. I know I’m not like…Becky Sunshine, but it was just cruel, Bell.”

“I mean…yeah, it was. But you obviously lashed out that way because you care.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

She sighed heavily, and I swear I couldhearher pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Ellie, think about it. You wouldn’t have to push him away so damn hard otherwise. If what happened—twice—was really ‘just sex,’ you wouldn’t be so afraid of it.”

“Who says I’m afraid?”

“If we’re gonna hash this out this late at night, you’re not allowed to play dumb.”

My shoulders slumped into a full-body wince. Dammit, was she right? Which meant…wasTheoright? Was I the coward?

“Honestly, this is what I was worried about all along.”

“That I’d fly off the handle and ruin everything at the most crucial juncture?”

“That you’d get hurt.” My nostrils started stinging again, throat thickening alongside them, and I rubbed my nose vigorously to try to will the tears away as Bella went on. “I told you from the start, Theo’s a good guy. Yes, I know there are a lot of surface differences between you two, but honestly…he’s the kind of person I think would be really good for you.”

“Seriously? You’re shipping me with the yacht club crew?”

“We both know that’s not who Theo is. Anyway, it’s good to go outside your comfort zone. Especially for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve basically run through all the age-appropriate losers in town and I was hoping that maybe, someday, you’d realize that well had run dry. Just because you like dive bars and wear the same clothes you did in high school most days, that doesn’t mean that’s all you are, Ellie.”

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