Page 72 of The Bright Side of Brooding
Too true. His letters, and though I shouldn’t have seen or read it, his journal. Plus, we did have good conversation. We’d talked about all kinds of things at this point—childhoods, goals, travel, interests. I hadn’t tallied it all up, but he probably knew more about me than anyone else ever had.
And that, more than the feelings scrawled across his pages, was what scared me most.
The three women sitting in my living room looked stunned by my last comment. Not surprisingly, Emily spoke first. “I’d say if you like him, you just… keep dating him.”
Simple enough on the surface, sure. “Right.”
Katie reached out and set a hand on my arm. “I can understand your thinking. I felt that way about Noah. Sometimes, it even made me feel bad, like what could I have to offer this guy? But Noah, like Nick, is not perfect. And once I let myself see that, it got easier.”
I nodded.
Then Bec chimed in. “And if you want to know what’s happening between the two of you, ask. No one can read minds. He’s probably wondering the same thing. And if you care about him, being a little vulnerable to get some clarity on your relationship isn’t a bad idea.”
My smile was thin, but I spread it wide to cover the discomfort her comment stirred in me.Vulnerable. What a horrendous word. And exactly the reason I’d flipped and run away last night. Nick always had a way of making me feel exposed, and somehow, seeinghisintimate thoughts in that book had made me feel raw and naked.
“Good idea. Thanks, ladies.” I held up my glass and dramatically took a few chugs, at which they laughed.
“So, Katie, tell us when you guys pack out and what your PCS is going to look like,” Emily said, mercifully shifting the attention from me.
I listened as Katie gave us the details on her move, and while Bec agonized over job prospects in Kansas, where she and Thatcher would move this summer, but only for a year. We migrated to the table after a while, gorged ourselves on fajitas, and eventually, they left. Like I promised, and only because I’d promised myself I would, I texted Nick to tell him they were gone, just shy of eleven. I half expected he’d be asleep, while at the same time knew I wouldn’t be that lucky.
Five minutes after I sent my message, a quiet knock sounded at my door.
