Page 67 of Stuck-Up Big Shot
Sutton: Sure. No prob. Good night, Miles.
38
Sutton
Dear Ida,
I made a mistake. One that might have cost me something valuable.
You see, I’ve been dating this guy from my past who I’ve reunited with by chance. At first, he didn’t recognize me or remember who I was, because he hasn’t seen me in years, but that problem was resolved. After reconnecting, our attraction grew, and we started dating. And that’s been an amazing gift because he’s a wonderful man, not at all the stuck-up big shot I originally thought he was.
But here’s the problem. I opened my big fat mouth and the words, “I love you” came spilling out.
Falling in love with him was easy because I’ve always loved him. But it’s too soon and too early in this relationship to say it. And I think it freaked him out because he’s been distant ever since.
What should I do? Just hang tight and pretend it never happened? Or reiterate that it was a mistake in a moment of passion?
I don’t want to lose him. Please help.
Fool in Love
I wrote the letter and sent it via email yesterday, finding a response in my inbox right away this morning. I read it on the subway to the NYU bookstore, where I’m meeting Christiana to purchase our textbooks for the semester. The words inAsk Ida’sresponse made me realize what a fool I am. I plan to share it with Christiana and get her opinion. This will all be new to her since I’ve yet to mention that I began dating Miles.
Dear Fool in Love,
Love is never a mistake and giving it should never be a problem. If this wonderful guy doesn’t reciprocate your feelings or is too closed off to admit his own in return, then you need to cut bait and run.
Don’t stick around and try to love someone who isn’t willing to return that love in spades. You’re not the fool in this situation, he is.
Best of luck. I hope he realizes what he has before he loses it altogether.
All my best,
Ida
Honestly, I know all of this because it’s straight from the pages of a Psychology 101 course, and the “if you love something, set it free” old adage. There’s no going back once the words are out there. Miles needs to figure out what he wants from me in return.
I can’t push him if he’s not ready, and sadly, I don’t think he is ready to get close to me or anyone else. He’s still battling the demons of his sister’s death and, for whatever reason, thinks he has something to do with it. Which is crazy because unless he gave her the heroin that she OD’d on, then he has nothing to blame himself for.
Christiana waves at me from the entrance of the bookstore, waiting for me with two coffees in hand as I approach her through Washington Square Park.
“Hey, Chica,” she greets, leaning in to kiss me on the cheek before shoving an iced macchiato in my hand. “You look like shit. What’s the matter with you?”
Leave it to Christiana to give me the no-filter blunt greeting. I give her a look of mock outrage and take a sip through the cup’s straw.
“It’s a good thing you come bearing gifts, otherwise I’d slap you,” I tease, opening the door so she can walk into the building as I follow behind.
Her long raven hair bounces over her backside before she whips her head around to glance back at me.
“You want to sit down at a table for a bit before we get our books on?” She points with a finger toward the far right of the store where there are some empty tables.
After hanging my backpack over the back of the chair, I sit down to face her as she gets situated. I pull out my phone and place it on the table, opening up my email account so I can show her myAsk Idamessages.
“What’s this?” Christiana nods toward the phone and then tips her head, brows furrowing in question.
Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out slowly and begin to tell her the story.
“Remember I told you how I ran into Miles the night of the fire alarm?”
