Page 54 of Made for You
Like a problem with a proof.
Like you were made for someone, and they were made for you.
It wasn’t that these two amazing people weren’t already whole. I hated the thought that anyone would believe they needed another person, a husband or wife, to becomplete. I didn’t buy that ideology, and maybe it was something that’d kept me at odds with past boyfriends. I’d never needed them. Between my history with family being unreliable and my desire to depend only on myself, it didn’t take a psychologist to tell me what’d been at play.
But lately, I wondered whetherneedingsomeone was the same thing as not being whole. I’d begun to interrogate the concept, to tease out the notion that a person is not complete if they decide to need another.
Was I incomplete because I’d needed Gram years ago? Was she incomplete for needing me now? I’d never believe that.
So why wouldn’t it all apply to a partnership, a romance? Why wouldn’t it be just as heroic to recognize one’s own independence and ability to survive and wholeness, but then tochooseto need someone? To submit oneself to the possibility of love, of vulnerability, and to embrace it? Why couldn’t I recognize that, for example, Bruce was more than I could ever dream, and something inside me practically screamed he was made for me, to be mine?
He was his own person, and I didn’t take that lightly. But he felt like… well, more and more he felt like mine. Like a choice I was destined to make, that I desperately wanted to make.
It was these thoughts that carried me through girls’ night at Craic. They clutched at me as I eyed Bruce from across the room yet again, my stomach performing Olympic-level gymnastics at being so close and yet so far from him.
And it was the idea that maybe very soon, it wouldn’t be a choice for me anymore even though it still seemed insanely soon to think such a thing that kept me tossing and turning that night. When I roused for breakfast late on Saturday morning, Rosie was packing up her purse and a small basket.
“I didn’t know you had plans today. I would’ve gotten up earlier.” With my new job and her active social life, I’d only seen her for a few minutes here or there this week.
She snatched a baguette from the counter and stuffed it into the bag, then patted my cheek where I stood pouring coffee into a bright magenta and yellow mug.
“Don’t worry. I do have some news I want to chat with you about, but I’m off for the day. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, so if I don’t see you, make sure to take advantage of Bruce.”
The coffee I’d started to sip blazed down my throat, and I nearly choked. “Gram, seriously, you can’t say stuff like that.”
She shrugged. “I don’t mean it in a nasty way. I mean take advantage of the fact that the man has itbadfor you. Which really means you aren’t likely to take anything he wouldn’t very readily give.” She waggled her brows, then twirled before she could see my stunned expression.
Or maybe she’d done it expressly to ignore my response. Either way, I watched her go, curious about whatever she had going on, a little jealous of the way she was wearing seven different shades of orange and somehow looking great in it, and secretly hoping she was right about Bruce.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
Bruce
Ihadn’t expected Nikki to answer the door so quickly, but when she did, the rapid beat of my heart gunned it through the floorboard.
“You’re gorgeous.”
She laughed, her smile radiant. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like, ‘Nice to see you’?”
With a hand on the doorframe, I leaned in. “That’d be a pretty severe understatement.”
A pretty blush swept into her cheeks. “You are…” She shook her head.
“Very glad to see you.” I reached for her, slipping a hand to her waist and bending to press a kiss to her soft cheek.
Before I could pull away, her hand found my jaw to stay my retreat and she ever-so-slowly placed a kiss at the corner of my mouth. Heat flashed through me, this little game of greeting and affection so much less than what I wanted from her. And yet, I appreciated her willingness to play.
“Would you like to come in for a minute?” she asked, minty breath ghosting my lips from just a few inches away.
“Is Rosie here?” I asked, not sure whether I wanted her to say yes or no to that question. Yes, because I loved Rosie, and also no, because I wanted to be alone with Nikki. Badly.
“Yes, I’m here, Bruce! Come in here and see me.”
The voice came seconds after my question and made clear that Rosie had been privy to the entire interaction between us, though if she were sitting in her chair in the living room, she wouldn’t have seen it, thankfully.
Nikki stepped out of the way and waved me in. I gave her a wink, hoping it’d reassure her that I didn’t mind this but was pleased to see she only had an affectionate smile on her face. She wasn’t embarrassed by Rosie’s nosiness. Rather, she embraced it and even seemed to enjoy it on some level, if the amused grin on her face was anything to go by.
A few steps down the hallway and we entered the colorful living room of the house, Rosie’s bright red easy chair extended so her feet were up, a cocktail next to her on a side table and remote in her hand. She looked a little less composed than I was used to. Rosie wasn’t a formal woman at all, but she always seemed coordinated and together. Tonight, she looked dressed down, and frankly, a little tired. For a woman with boundless energy whom I’d only seen show signs of flagging for a few weeks after her stroke, it gave me a moment of pause.
