Page 64 of Crazy Good
He breathes out a long sigh. “I’m proving to you that some things don’t have to make sense. They’re just right. You think we’re wrong for each other, but we’re not. I can’t lie to myself anymore and you shouldn’t either. And I also need you to realize you don’t want to be myfriend.”
“I do want to be your friend,” I reply.I also want to jump your bones and make sweet blissful love to you at the same time. So much for not falling feet first into the Maverick pool.
“And that’s what I need to fix. Wait until you see what I have up my sleeve. I’m going to be the man that deserves you. Deserves more than friendship with you. I fucked up, Win. I’m sorry I wasted so much time. I’m going to make up for it now. I have to go. Kathy and I are going to play Bunco with her friends. Oh, and Windsor?” I’m afraid to respond. What else can he one-eighty me with?
“Yes?” I hold my breath. Silence.
“I think you look sweet with braces and glasses.”
“Ugh.”
“You have to be in the same room to rain dark, acid blood on me. You headed this way? I miss you.” He laughs. I lean my forehead down on my desk.
I groan. “Bye Maverick. Look out for Carla. She’ll rob you blind.” Well, she won’t rob Maverick blind, not in one day at least.
“I’ll see you soon.” He clicks off the line. I’m left sitting at my desk with a gaping hole of guilt. I have to be up front with Nash as soon as possible, before whatever crazy thing Maverick does next affects all of us—like a big, happy dysfunctional family. The confusing thing is right next to that guilt is a huge well of sheer happiness. He’s making an effort. More importantly, he’s pulled himself out of the swirling grief hole. I’ll do whatever it takes to facilitate his healing process because I know how important lifelines are. The thing about lifelines though, is if you jumble them up enough, they fail.
I sort files into perfect stacks in order of importance on my desk and fill out online forms, stamping my electronic signature like a notary on speed. I distract myself with work while I gain the courage I need to dial up Nash.
When we first started dating back in my early twenties he would always tell me how fun and adventurous I was. We fell into a routine very quickly and I know the exact moment our relationship took a nosedive, and not just because I know when he started cheating on me. It’s because I remember when I, myself started feeling bored. I sat on the couch in my frumpy pajamas wondering if it was too early to go to bed on a Saturday night. Nash went out that night without me. And I didn’t care.
The irony about the situation now is that I’m acutely aware of how much my leaping-no-holds-barred relationship with Maverick changed me…and that’s what’s drawn Nash to me again. Who should I give the credit to? Maverick for changing me? Or Nash for pointing out my flaws to begin with?
My plant, which never stood a chance in fiery hell, is wilting in the corner. I look at the brown leaves morosely and decide it’s time to throw it away. With that depressing thought, I finally dial his number.
When he answers in that chipper, businesslike tone, I falter. “Hey Nash, it’s me.”
“Hey, Winnie. What’s up?” I hear him winking at me. It’s all in his tone.
I decide honesty is the best policy. “I can only be your friend. I think even from the beginning I knew I wouldn’t be able to be with you again. Or at least, how we were together before. And it’s not because I think you haven’t changed, because you have and that’s sort of it…because if you were the person you are now back then—well then everything would be rosy and we’d be married right now. We’re not though. I said I would try, I said I would be open to the possibility of more, but I can’t lead you on anymore. We’ve both changed. Even as right it feels to be with you and as comfortable as it would be, I don’t want that anymore, Nash. I never did, really. Sometimes shit things happen for a reason and they don’t make sense until later,” I ramble. Maverick said almost the same thing to me.
Nash’s end of the phone is dead silent except for his steady, even breaths. “It’s him. Isn’t it?”
“He is the sole reason you’re attracted to me again, Nash. Someone else instilled that indescribable quality that draws you to me. Isn’t that the least bit disturbing or disheartening? I’m not even sure I can be with him either. Or if he even truly wants to be with me. I have no idea, but I’m telling you what I do know. You’re a good guy now, Nash…but,” I trail, choking on the generic words I can’t force myself to say.
He finishes, “But I’m not the one for you. It’s okay to be honest. I half expected this sooner. At least you don’t hate me anymore. I can sleep at night knowing I tried to get you back. And if you do end up with a guy, it should be the one who broke my nose as punishment for wronging you. I’m here for you if you need someone, Win. Always,” Nash promises. I don’t doubt him for a second. I still wince.
I sigh. “We’ve repaired us enough to be friends? Like real ones that call each other when they have mom problems or tax questions?” I joke. But deep down I’m serious. Repairing this kink in my life means a lot to me. For it all to be for naught would be horrible.
He chuckles. I picture his smile in my mind. It’s sweet. It gives me a straight-up platonic vibe. “Of course. Though I’m sure Kathy will be upset she doesn’t get to plan another wedding,” he says, teasing me right back. My mom loves him. But, I’d fathom a guess her current Bunco partner is feeling the love, too.
“Planning gives her hives anyways. Thanks for being understanding.”
“It pains me to say this, but thank him for me.”
I blanch. “Thank him for what?”
“For bringing out the best in you. In record time, no less. I guess I never could quite do it.” His voice cracks. Instead of saying anything else, he hangs up. If he’d asked I would have told him I couldn’t be with him, because I never loved him. Not the way I was supposed to. He didn’t love me either. Our relationship died when it was supposed to. It went down in a flaming rush of gory destruction, because something else was coming together. Good things fall apart so better things can come together. And you know what? Even if I’m never with Maverick again, he’s changed me. I didn’t even drag my feet or submit kicking and screaming. It just happened. I think that’s the best kind of change there is.
*****
He just asked me for your clothing sizes and what time Gretchen gets off work,Morganna’s text message reads. I roll my eyes and look to the sky. A few seconds pass.
Ping.Another text from her.I told him.
Of course she told him. Maverick only talks to me about our friendship. He talks to my friends about everything else. I haven’t told him about my decision to sever the pseudo relationship with Nash, but something leads me to believe he probably knows. He knows everything. I haven’t Googled, but I think it’s a SEAL thing.
I send Morg a message.If you’re just going to tell me everything anyway, just tell him to ask me.
