Page 108 of Suddenly Dating
“I don’t mean to be cruel, baby,” he said, and cupped her chin. “I mean to be honest. It’s hard to say this to you, because I do care about you, very much. But I have to be honest about my feelings. You were right—we have always wanted different things—”
“Don’t give me that crap,” she snapped, and pushed his hand away. “Why did you let me fawn over you for two weeks if you don’tloveme?”
“I told you we were over,” he said, surprised. Did she really think he was lying about it?
She shoved his leg. “Is this because of your precious little Bambi?”
Harry’s pulse jumped a notch. “No,” he said coolly. “It has nothing to do with her. You and I are not a good match, Lissa. And I think you know it, too. In fact, even now, I’m not sure what it is you want. You couldn’t wait to take your break. You couldn’t wait to walk out of my life.”
If looks could kill, Harry would be lying in a pool of blood right now. The bartender chose that inopportune moment to deliver the martinis. Melissa slowly stood up, took her drink in hand, and threw it at Harry. “Bastard,” she said acidly. “You just want me to grovel.”
“I don’t want that,” he said as he calmly wiped martini from his face.
“Fuck you,”she said, and stormed out of the bar, slamming into a poor man who happened to have crossed her path.
The bartender silently handed Harry a towel.
Harry cleaned himself up as best he could, paid for the drinks, and left his untouched. He headed uptown to his parents’ apartment.
His mother was in the kitchen when he let himself in. “Harry?” she asked, poking her head out the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Mom. I’m going to crash here, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course!” She came out of the kitchen and moved to kiss him, but wrinkled her nose. “Have you been drinking?”
“No,” he said. “I had a run-in with a drink, though. I’m going to grab a shower, okay?”
Harry went through the motions of showering and dressing, but he felt like he was moving through a fog. He felt bad for Melissa, but it was a distant sort of sadness one feels for a friend. There was someone else on his mind. But if Lola couldn’t express her feelings for him, then he would move on from there, too. He loved her—without a doubt, he loved her. But he didn’t need a woman just to have one. What he wanted, more than anything, was for Lola to finally put herself first. That was the only way she would ever be able to be part of a healthy relationship. And if she couldn’t do that, he wasn’t going to stay. He wanted a partner, not a helpmate.
He desperately wanted to believe that she’d been on the verge of saying it this morning. But that family of hers kept the tether tight.
When he got out of the shower, he called Lola, but there was no answer. He didn’t leave a message other than to ask her to call him, and tell her that he’d be staying overnight in the city.
Harry walked into the living room. His dad had come home, and as always, was happy to see his son. “How long are we going to have your company?”
“Just tonight,” Harry said. “I’m headed back to East Beach tomorrow.”
“Harry, come back to the city,” his mother said with a playful pout. “We miss you terribly.”
“I’m not that far away,” Harry reminded her.
“You might as well be in Uganda as far as I am concerned. It’s a horrible traffic jam out of the city.”
Dosia stepped into the living room. “You eat dinner, Mr.Harry?”
“Of course,” he said, and hugged her. “I wouldn’t miss your cooking.”
“No cooking. Take out,” she said, and winked at him.
“So have you got any jobs lined up?” his dad asked.
“Not yet,” Harry said. “But I’ve got a promising lead. If I get this bid, I really have a shot.”
“Let’s not speak of this bridge business tonight,” his mother said wearily. “I just cringe at how much of your life you’ve wasted pursuing this notion. To think you had such a wonderful job. I wonder if Michaelson’s will even take you back.”
There was something strikingly familiar about his mother. It took him a moment, but Harry suddenly realized—she was as nasty to him as Birta had been to Lola.
“Did you see the Mets game?” his dad asked, cheerfully changing the subject as he’d trained himself to do all these years. When Mom started harping, Dad changed the subject.
