Page 63 of Make You Love Me
Her eyes narrow at me before rising and retrieving the wallet. Returning to her seat, she hands it to me and watches me closely. I locate the worn list among the bills and receipts inside and unfold it.
“What do you remember?” she asks, looking over my hand at the list.
“The last one.” I stare at the paper, specifically the space where I erased the last entry, not believing I gave up on that dream.
“Great. Why does that seem like a bad thing?”
“It’s surprising that I erased it.”
“What was it? Maybe we can add it back in and keep working on the list.”
My head shakes slowly. “I don’t know if it’s possible anymore.”
She places a hand on my leg, shooting an electric current through my already charged system.
“We’ll have to get creative, of course, until you’re back to normal, but I’m willing to try if you are,” she says, and the implications of her words are not lost on me.
“You don’t even know what it is,” I say lamely.
“No, but if you’re not ready, I’m hoping you’ll tell me when we get to it. We can accomplish everything else and leave that one for the grand finale.”
She begins laying out plans for us to spend more time together, checking off each activity. I watch her talk throughthe list and explain her ideas without hearing a word. It’s her smile, and the way her eyes, now dry and bright, sparkle with excitement. I hate how that surprises me. Not because I learned just yesterday that we’re not actually together. It’s because the only time she’s ever shown joy or excitement about being with me is when she’s dragging me to bed.
After everything I learned and with the remaining pieces of my past still missing, can I handle being around her more, knowing I can never have her forever? She said it herself. She’s planning on leaving me for the last time at the end of her obligation. She thinks the future I deserve doesn’t include her. That she’s not good enough for me after her betrayal, because of the way she’s treated me over the years, and because of her inability to have children. Do I believe that, too?
“What do you think?” she asks, bringing my thoughts back to her.
“About what?”
She grins, seemingly undeterred by my distraction. “Can we start over?”
“What?” Shock robs my ability to hold back that gut reaction. “Start over how?”
“Pretend the last five years never happened. It would be nice to start again from the beginning.”
“Beginning of what? We jumped straight over the get-to-know-you part of any relationship, friends or otherwise.”
Her back straightens at the sharpness in my tone. We had a one-night stand that evolved into many nights scattered across years. Even when we were exclusive, our relationship consisted of very little outside of sex. Thinking more clearly on it, I barely know her.
“That’s the problem I’d like to correct.”
“Why? Aren’t you planning to walk away when your obligation is over?”
“You’re not an obligation, Jordan.”
“A regret, then? A conquest? A fuck buddy? We sure as hell have never been friends or true partners. Set aside your unfounded belief that you’re not good enough for me. What am I to you?”
Her eyes lock on mine in shock, her answer dissolving on her tongue.
“That’s what I thought. No wonder I erased the last thing on my stupid list. It’s unattainable.”
“What is?” she manages, and I glare at her.
“Making you love me.”
“Jordan,” she says on an exhale as her fingers press to her lips. “I—”
“Don’t. Whatever you’re about to say, I doubt I’ll believe you.” I drag my hands down my face, trying to calm the fickle emotions, popping up like summer storms inside me. “But despite that and everything that’s happened, I don’t want to be angry at you anymore. If starting over will take some of the hurt away, I want to try.”
