Page 87 of Make You Love Me
In what feels like one strangling exhale, I summarize our trip, Henry’s invitation, and Jordan’s stance on the matter.
“Wow. There’s a lot to unpack there,” Sydney says, surveilling William’s exploration of the unfamiliar room while she processes. “I can’t believe you’re going. Not only because you’re not big on dating, but what about your feelings for Jordan?”
“He gave me no choice. He wants proof that I’m not going to push him away again…if we decide to be together.”
“Can you give him that assurance?”
I’ve been avoiding doing that with any man since Sydney and I met, most of all Jordan. Still, hearing her skepticism stings more than it should. But she’s right. Can I give Jordan the security he needs?
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Everything about him and this situation is confusing. While I’m trying to wrap my head around how I feel, he’s giving me whiplash with his ever-changing mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“One minute, he’s seducing me or saying the sweetest things that make me think he loves me. The next, he’s insisting we stay in the friend’s zone. If he has feelings for me, why in the he—heck,” I correct for the young ears in the room, “am I going out with another man at his insistence?”
“It sounds like he’s battling with his own heart and emotions the same way you are. William,” she calls to him with a threat of a scold in her tone. He’s reaching for the porcelain statue of a woman in a yoga pose Sydney gave me for my birthday. “Leave that be.”
He stares at her, his arm stretching slightly closer with a mischievous smirk as if to test her sincerity, and I have to hide my amusement at my spirit child. I turn away before he takes my smile as encouragement. He soon moves on to something else, and Sydney praises his good decision.
“Sorry. Not exactly toddler-proof around here.”
“No biggie. He spends a lot of time at Jackson’s, so he’s used to being told what he can and cannot touch.”
“Goodness. How does that poor child keep his hands to himself with all the priceless and beautiful things in that mansion?” Laughing, I think of my own difficulties doing exactly that when I visited the historic Vane estate for the first time last year.
“It’s an exercise in impulse control for him and patience for me.” We laugh, and William’s head turns to see what all the excitement is about. Unimpressed, he goes back to his inspection.
“We’re going to New York tomorrow for Josie’s show,” I announce.
“That’s exciting.”
“I guess. I don’t know how much more of this rollercoaster I can take. She’s staying up there longer than originally planned, but I need to get back to work and my life.”
“Doesn’t that life include Jordan now?” Sydney asks, studying me.
“I’m not sure. I thought we were heading in that direction until he insisted on this.” With a motion toward my prettydatedress, irritation takes root like an invasive vine. I hate everything it represents. Wearing it, I’m not myself, or more accurately, the person I’ve trained myself to be. That girl could enjoy Henry and not care about anyone’s expectations or feelings. Her heart didn’t get a say, and she lived by her own rules. She was free.
Since Jordan waltzed back into town, that way of life—that freedom I once relished—feels more like a noose with the other end attached to a ship adrift at sea.
“Will you tell Henry about Jordan?”
I consider the question. Is there anything to say at this point? My heart, the one vote I usually ignore, says there’s plenty to talk about, and for once, my head agrees. “Yes,” I decide. “It’s another reason I’m anxious about going. I don’t want to disappoint him. He’s so sweet.”
Sydney shakes her head. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
“For one, you’re going out on adate.” She emphasizes the word like it’s something significant I’ve never experienced before.
Offended by her wonder, I think back, and nothing comes to mind to contradict her. Shit. Am Ithatwoman? The one men take to bed but nowhere else? Is that what I’ve done to my life? Is Jordan the first man to want more and see me as worthy enough to have in his future?
What does Henry want? I haven’t exactly painted myself in a wholesome light in the classes he attended. Quite the opposite, in fact, and it’s been entertaining. Until now.
I sit up with a new revelation swirling inside me.
“Holy shhh—nitzel,” I say, cutting off Sydney mid-sentence and shooting to my feet. William runs over to me, excited to start another tickle game, and holds his hands out to me. Picking him up, I kiss his soft cheek. “I don’t want to be everyone’s good time.”
Sydney rises, my excitement contagious. “What does that mean?”
