Page 40 of Not Your Basic Love Story

“Well, we’ve gotta go. Mom, Dad, always a pleasure,” I said, hugging my dad tight and then giving a short, clipped squeeze to my mom.

Dev, always the gentleman, shook my dad’s hand and accepted a hug from my mom even though she’d been so rude over the past hour.

I took Dev’s hand and pulled him away.

Without a word, we climbed into his car, both releasing a slow exhale. We opened our mouths to speak at the same time.

“Sorry, go ahead,” I offered, still trying to figure out how to apologize on behalf of my mother.

“I was going to ask if you could map us back to the ferry terminal.” He smiled, but there was no twinkle in his eyes. He looked worn out, like a single meal with my parents had been the equivalent of a ten-hour study session for a final.

I couldn’t blame him. I nodded, pulling up the map on my phone. As I directed him, I wished he’d reach over and put his hand on my leg or take my hand or something, but he didn’t. Perhaps he needed his hand free to shift. I tried telling myself that, but the sinking feeling in my gut told me otherwise. If he hadn’t had second thoughts about us and the possibility of a future together before, he definitely did now.

My plan had backfired miserably.

Now I was sure he’d never want me to meet his family.

How much longer did our romance have left? An unknown expiry date materialized at the back of my mind, and my heart withdrew from him, slinking back behind the walls I thought I’d torn down. After what it had been through, it had learned when to protect itself.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“So, did you guys talk about it?” Miranda asked, filling my wine glass before topping up her own. We were in my apartment the night after returning home from my trip with our sweatpants on, hair up in messy buns, no makeup, with a Mindy Project rerun on in the background.

I sighed and ate another all-dressed chip. “No. The ride back was pretty quiet. I should have said something, I guess. Or at least apologized for how my mom behaved. I don’t know why I thought introducing him to them would have improved our relationship.”

Miranda settled back onto the couch. “Better to find out sooner than later.”

“It felt so right, you know? Thinking back to how things were with Graham, even when they were good, they weren’t this good. With Dev, everything feels so natural. He gets me.”

“I know what you mean, it’s like you two click, and it’s effortless.”

“Exactly. Like what you and Derek have. I want that.”

“Well, I could talk to him about becoming sister wives.” She smiled and nudged me while reaching for the chips.

“I’m not drunk enough for that conversation.” I laughed and sipped my wine.

“From everything you’ve told me, it sounds like you’re the one doing all the work to propel the relationship forward. Like, back in Mexico, you were the one who initiated sex. Here you did, too. He’s always at your place because you invite him. You suggested meeting each other’s families. Maybe it’s time to sit back and see if he tries to move the relationship forward.”

That made sense. Had I been too pushy? I did, after all, imply that I wanted him to move in with me after only dating for a few months. Then I remembered something my mom had brought up, something that had been scratching away in the back of my mind despite my best efforts to quell my fears.

“Do you think he’s too young for me?”

She was hesitant, weighing her words. “He’s young. Fresh out of college. Not a lot of dating experience, as you said. What were we doing when we were his age?”

“Oh god, I don’t remember much of that time in my life.” Honestly, we were lucky to have survived our youth with all the partying and binge drinking we did. I distinctly remember getting alcohol poisoning in a field in the middle of nowhere at one point.

“Exactly.”

“But Dev isn’t like that. He’s so much more mature than we were,” I argued.

“But does that mean he’s ready to settle down? You’re almost thirty. All your friends are either married with kids or close to it. You’re looking for a commitment. Maybe he’s not.”

“I invited you here to make me feel better, not worse.” I looked into my glass, a weight heavy in my chest.

“You’re my best friend. Telling you what you want to hear is like, what regular friends are for. Best friends give it to you straight.”

“Well then, what should I do? Break up with him? I really, really like him, Miranda. I mean, we said we loved each other, didn't we? I can’t break up with him after that!”

---