Page 59 of Make You Love Me
That fantasy was attached to me like a cancer until the truth set me free. I don’t remember my proposals or the aftershocks that surely followed. Some part of my twisted brain must be protecting me from reliving that agony. But no matter what’s happened since then, I’d be an idiot to continue believing she could ever wholly be mine. If handing over my heart, giving her the best sex of her life, and asking for the opportunity to love her forever (twice) doesn’t make her choose me, then nothing will.
And I’m over it.
Chapter 16
Nora
Somehow, after leaving Jordan in the bedroom, I drag my exhausted body to the living room and fall face first onto the couch. I can’t bring myself to lie on the corner mattress—to be surrounded by his scent and the memories of how happy we were there.
I’ve never felt that content before. This morning, I would have been happy to snuggle in his arms for the rest of the day and forget about the responsibilities waiting for us both.
It didn’t use to be that way between us. Even when we officially dated last year, I couldn’t turn off the fears and doubts. He never heldallof me. Only the parts I knew I could control.
Our relationship started because of sex—both of us craving a release. That night, I would have accepted it from anyone who could turn me on. But he surprised me and ruined my chance of enjoying sex with anyone else. No one makes me writhe like he does, and after a while, I stopped trying to replace him. He became my beautiful release, and in the beginning, he seemed to enjoy being my chosen fix.
That utopia ended the first time he brought up commitment and feelings and God-forbid marriage. I panicked, tossed him out like he meant nothing to me. But he stayed in touch. After that, he gave me enough to keep the withdrawals at bay, and before long, the cycle repeated itself.
Holy shit. I’d acted like my mother.
And isn’t it fitting and annoyingly ironic that I should finally come to my senses when he comes to his? When I acknowledge what I’ve been fighting all these years, he decides he can’t stomach fighting for me any longer. I’d laugh at the absurdity if every ounce of me didn’t ache from missing him already.
My phone lights the dark room with an incoming call, but I ignore it. It’s either Sydney checking on me or Josie doing the same about Jordan. Poor Josie. She’s oblivious to the one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn the day has taken. She deserves to be warned, but I’m not sure it’s my place to tell her. Although Jordan doesn’t need the added stress of explaining it all to her, either. Not that he’s interested in talking to her any more than he is to me, I’d imagine.
I grab the phone and check the Caller ID. It’s Josie. Since she’d be concerned if no one responded, causing more questions, I wait for the phone to stop ringing and send her a text. I don’t want Jordan to overhear me recount the mess our arrangement has become. And I don’t want to hear the hurt and frustration in my voice because of it.
Me:Jordan’s sleeping. This is quieter.
Josie:It’s early. Everything OK?
Me:He’s fine. I think. But you should know, he remembers.
A long pause. She’s freaking out on the other end.
Josie:Guess that means he also knows what we’ve done.
Me:Yes.
Josie:Is he upset?
Me:More like pissed.
Josie:Fair. I knew he would be, but I did what I thought was best. How are you holding up?
Me:Not good.
Josie:I’m sorry I roped you into this. Truly.
Me:You didn’t force me to do it.
Josie:No. Just guilt tripped you.
I don’t have a response that wouldn’t make her feel worse, so I type nothing.
Josie:I doubt he wants to be with either of us right now. But are you still able to help until I get back?
Me:Correct. Yes, I can stay.
Josie:Thank you. I’ll come home ASAP.
