Page 78 of After Everything
Jess took in the scene with one sweep of her eyes. "That bad, huh?"
"I don't know." I collapsed onto the couch, still in my sweaty running clothes. "Maybe. I don't know."
She sat down next to me, coffee in hand, waiting.
And suddenly, I couldn't hold it in anymore.
"He apologized," I said. "Like, really apologized. Not the lawyer-speak version. Not the 'I'm sorry you're upset' bullshit. He took responsibility for everything. Every single thing."
Jess was quiet, letting me talk.
"He said he understood what he did. What it cost me. That he's been in therapy for three years." I took a sip of coffee, barely tasting it. "And Jess, I could see it. The change. He's not the same person."
"Okay," she said carefully. "And how do you feel about that?"
"I don't know." My voice cracked slightly. "I told him I didn't hate him anymore. And I meant it. But I also told him that doesn't mean I forgive him or trust him or want him back in my life."
"Did you mean that too?"
I opened my mouth to say yes. Of course I meant it. I'd built this entire life without him. I was happy. I didn't need him.
But the words stuck in my throat.
"I don't know," I whispered instead.
Jess set down her coffee. "Emma?—"
"Don't." I held up a hand. "Don't do the concerned best friend thing. I can't handle it right now."
"Too bad." She shifted to face me fully. "Because I'm doing it anyway. What specifically don't you know?"
I stared at my coffee cup. "I don't know if I meant it when I said I didn't want him back in my life."
The words hung in the air between us.
"Okay," Jess said slowly. "That's, huh, honest."
"I should mean it." I looked up at her. "Right? After everything he did? I should want nothing to do with him. I should be fine with keeping things professional and distant and safe."
"Should," Jess repeated. "That's a dangerous word."
"But I built this whole life without him. I'm happy. I have my career, my apartment, my friends. I don't need him." I was talking faster now, like I could convince myself if I just said it enough times. "Three years, Jess. It's been three years. I should be over this."
"Emma." She reached over and took my hand. "Feelings don't work on a timeline."
"They should," I said stubbornly.
"But they don't." She squeezed my hand. "So let me ask you something, and I want you to actually think about the answer instead of just saying what you think you're supposed to say."
I nodded, even though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the question.
"When you were sitting across from him today," Jess said carefully, "what were you feeling? Not what you told him. Not what you think you should have felt. What did you actually feel?"
I closed my eyes. Remembered the coffee shop. David across the table, looking tired and sincere and nothing like the man who'd destroyed my life three years ago.
"I felt..." I paused, searching for the rightwords. "Sad. For what we lost. For what we could have been if he hadn't..." I trailed off.
"What else?"
