Page 87 of Known By You
“What did she do?” Luc asked.
I sighed long and slow, slumping back into the couch. “She saw it all over my face. She’s incredibly intelligent and of course, she saw right through me. I didn’t make excuses and I didn’t explain. She didn’t fight me or shame me. She just let me go.”
Even that had hurt in a way—both in how I would’ve loved for her to fight for more information or some kind of explanation, and because her very choice not to push me for my reasoning meant she understood me.
She might not love me back, but she cared for me and hadn’t liked seeing me hurting. She got it in the moment, and whenever we talked, I hoped she’d still understand.
“First, this has nothing to do with manhood. Not rushing into sex is wise and any person’s prerogative, and I’m going to give you a pass on that statement earlier because you’ve just had all your feelings dredged up with your family’s visit.” Luc’s face was stern and almost unlike himself, but one thing he wouldn’t tolerate was his friends in pain of their own making.
“You’re right. I don’t believe it was ‘beta’ or whatever. It’s just who I am, and I’m not ashamed of that. I like myself most of the time, and I think she does, too. It’s just one more little thing contributing to the mess in my head.”
Both men nodded, understanding my point.
“You need to talk to her,” Stone said.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I know. But I don’t really want to tell her I love her. I don’t want to complicate things any more. And I’m afraid it’s just going to spill out the second I look her in the eye. Plus, sheisleaving, and I don’t want to ruin the time we might have with those feelings clouding everything, which is also assuming she’ll even be willing to spend time with me after this.”
Stone’s glare was pointed and Luchuffed.
“Your feelings are not a problem.”
My lips pressed together.
“It’s okay to feel however you feel. If she’s no longer interested in spending time with you?—”
“It’s her loss.” We all said it together like we’d choreographed it in an official support group.
I chuckled even though my throat burned with emotion. “I know. It’s just not that simple. She’s not going to be mean or dismissive. But she might say it’s better for both of us, and she might be right.”
They waited, quiet, letting this truth settle in the space around us. Kit’s ears perked up and he stood, then bolted from the couch and down the hallway.
“That’s what she’s gonna do, if she’s smart,” I said, smiling after the weirdo little beast. He was more of the gangly teen instead of a tiny kitten these days, and he’d gotten both more snuggly and more edgy.
“No, she’s not. If she doesn’t want to date you, that’s okay. You’ll handle it. But assuming she’s going to say something without asking her isn’t respecting her or even yourself.” Luc gave me a good ol’ fashioned stare down for a minute before he stood and held his arms wide.
I rose and accepted his offering, hugging him tightly before he released me and shoved me toward the couch.
With a chuckle, I pulled the blanket over me and grabbed the remote. “Any more pieces of wisdom, or can we get back to this cinematic jewel?”
We watched the movie, and I tried to soak in the antics of the cast and the delight of Ryan Reynolds finally calling Sandra Bullock’s character on her crap and insisting she marry him so he could date her. But after a while, I sent Liz a text, knowing I needed to see her before we went back towork on Monday or I’d be a wreck and not get anything done.
She responded instantly, saying she was glad to hear from me and she’d love to get together. She had plans with her family tomorrow, which genuinely made me happy even if it sent a sliver of dread through me that I’d have another whole day before I got to see her again and could feel out how she was feeling. We agreed to meet at Diner before work on Monday morning, and I promised myself I’d be ready.
Whatever that meant.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Elizabeth
The pandemonium that had been Sunday family dinner at Jane and Darcy Saint’s house—yes, my father had taken his wife’s name in an amazing and rather significant gesture—was finally dying down.
I’d met Jane’s children and their partners and kids before, but seeing them all together again, especially after the email I’d gotten indicating my time here was truly coming to a close sooner than I anticipated, was truly bittersweet.
“Great to see you guys again,” I said, hugging Calla, then her husband Wyatt, who was Jane’s oldest son.
“It was great to have you with us,” Sadie said, right as her giant husband, Warrick, Jane’s youngest, engulfed me in a hug. He was a tactile person and a giant teddy bear. I kind of loved that he was my stepbrother now.
“Malcom,” Wilder said, the only one I knew in aprofessional capacity since he’d been in the EMU and was now technically my temporary boss at Saint Security.
