Page 16 of It Couldn't Be You
“I remember you and me swapping poems and stories,” he said tenderly, like he was talking about something precious. “That’s when you became my favorite writer.”
“You’re still my favorite writer, too,” I said softly, hiding behind my mug.
“Don’t stop here if this isn’t it for you,” he urged me, leaning in close again, making me feel off-balance. “Don’t do something because it’s what sounds right, or you don’t know what else to do. Your imagination is too big for that excuse.”
But it all felt more difficult than I could explain to him. I felt tied to Jordan’s next steps. I felt tied to my fears. I felt tied to my choices. I felt tied in a thousand different directions, in a thousand different ways. I wanted to ask how I could cut myself free from all these knots. I opened my mouth, but then Katie walked in and asked me what time I had to leave for Jordan’s big Christmas party. I told her soon. Gabriel scooted away from his spot beside me, walking back to the coffee machine.
“I have something for you in my room, actually,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
I left my coffee to turn cold on the kitchen island with those weighty conversations I didn’t want to carry with me to my boyfriend’s party.
“So,” she said her voice rising with mischief as I followed her to her bedroom. “Jordan stopped by a bit ago while you were getting coffee to sneak over a little surprise for you.”
She walked over to her closet and slid open the doors. She had a small closet with a rod of clothes hanging, but she pushed her clothes aside to showcase the red, sparkling dress hanging in the middle. It had a note paperclipped to it.
For Emma, this is just the beginning of Christmas memories with you. Love you, Jordan.
The dress was velvety soft with long sleeves. I smiled to myself at the idea of Jordan leafing through dresses at some department store. But then I realized one of his sisters or his mother, probably took the time to shop with him, considering my taste and discussing it with him. They probably thought how important I was to him, for him to plan this for me.
I imagined him setting his alarm on a Saturday morning to drop this dress off so I could have it on for the big Christmas party later this morning. This was so important to him. I was so important to him.He’s important to me, too, I thought. I just couldn’t explain the pit in my stomach.
“This is so thoughtful,” I said absentmindedly.
“He had a cute little plan. He was texting me about sneaking it over last night,” Katie said with a grin. “Got to love Jordan and his romantic gestures.”
He was one for the romantic gestures—the bouquet of roses on our first date, the diamond necklace in a little bag on my doorstep the morning of our first anniversary, surprise tickets to see my favorite band perform live, a blindfold leading me to a surprise picnic in the park on my birthday. Memories that played like a rom-com montage across my mind.
I nodded, still rubbing the dress between my fingertips.
“Do you like it?” Katie asked.
“Of course,” I said. “I would like whatever dress was hanging here.”
I felt like there was some button that was supposed to click on when your boyfriend made a gesture like this that made you swoon and blush, but mine was defective.
I suddenly felt choked up. “Can I borrow your shower?” I asked Katie, swallowing the rock in my throat.
Katie nodded, her eyes considering me the way they did last night when I said “no” during Truth or Dare. I felt on the edge of tears the entire time I got ready. I showered, fixed my hair, put on my makeup, and slipped on the dress with my eyes stinging all the while. I looked in the mirror at my loose curls and my red lips to match my red dress. A dress straight out of a Christmas movie. I felt a couple of tears creep from my eyes like a premonition.
“I shouldn’t feel this way,” I whispered to myself, alone in Katie’s room. I should be swooning over this dress, the sweetest little note, and him planning it all out with my best friend.Swoon, I ordered myself.
“I’m just confused. I’ll see him, and all these doubts will vanish,” I encouraged myself as I slid on the nude high heels I was borrowing from Katie.
This had to be because of my old lingering feelings for Gabriel. Last night was just a nostalgia bender, and I needed to shake it off and move on. In January, Gabriel would go home, and life could resume as normal. I clicked into the living room in my heels, and Gabriel was kicked back on the couch with a newspaper in his hand. He peeked over it and saw me in my dress.
“You sparkle,” he said affectionately.
And I hated the way it made me blush, the way my heart spun in my chest, making me dizzy as I walked to the door.
The Christmas party was a big brunch. Everyone brought homemade casseroles with tater tots or a big pan of gooey cinnamon rolls, so I was driving there with only a few sips of coffee in my stomach. A thought crossed my mind as the car bumped along the country roads that led to his uncle’s big farmhouse. When was the last time I blushed over Jordan?
When was the last time I wasn’t trying to correct my feelings? Ordering myself to swoon. When was the last time I wasn’t thinking somehow our hearts, our desires, were going to finally sync up? Or the last time I felt seen by Jordan the way I felt seen by Gabriel in the kitchen this morning?
“Do I ever feel seen by Jordan?” I said aloud as I pulled up to the house. I pulled a shawl around my shoulders, thinking this was a terrible time to finally be examining these feelings.
The sky was gray this late morning, with a low grumble of winter thunder in the distance. I opened my phone to a message from Jordan, saying I couldn’t wait for him to see me in the dress. The words tugged on my heart. I did love Jordan. That’s why I didn’t want to be flippant or careless with his heart.
He was the kind of man who set his alarm to leave presents for the woman he loved, and he deserved a woman who didn’t have to fake a feeling over his romance.He deserves a woman who wasn’t blushing over another man while in a dress he bought for her, I thought, ashamed.
