Page 63 of Missile Tow
I joined him, standing behind him and encircling his waist with my arms. “John coming home changes nothing,” I reassured. “And trust me, he’d never just show up here or at the mercantile.”
He didn’t respond to my declaration. Van was too wise to simply accept that something as monumental as John moving back would be a cakewalk. And then I remembered there was another man involved in this unbelievably coincidental foursome.
“What about Evan?” I inquired. “Do you think he might contact you, too?”
Van hesitated before answering, so I knew the question had crossed his mind as well. “No,” he stated. “He won’t bother.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He turned to face me, his eyes filling with emotion. “I wasn’t good enough for Evan then, and this won’t change that fact.”
My heart ached after he spoke. I wondered if he’d feel differently if Evan reached out and admitted he was wrong toleave him and that he was good enough. I was concerned I was simply a road trip rebound that he could do a U-turn from and race home to his true love?
I touched his cheek, just below a pooling eye. “Then why this?” I inquired, speaking with love and concern.
He placed a hand on my chest. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, not to mention an insecure child, I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about John when he gets here,” he confessed. “You’ll see him again, and all the memories of your life together will make you want him back instead of trying with me.”
“That will not happen,” I argued. “Zero chance.”
“But I’m not from here. I don’t fit in like John does,” he pointed out. “Even Sadie said people think I’m too city and out of touch with small-town values.”
His argument was laced with the words of Sadie Hatfield. “That is one woman’s point of view, Van. One sad, lonely woman who had a plan that didn’t work out for her.”
“But everyone always saw you two together. Why wouldn’t they want the same thing?” he asked. “Maybe things would be easier if I left.”
“For whom?”
“For you,” he gasped, trying to move around me.
I blocked his path and gently pinned him back against the kitchen counter. “That’s not true,” I disagreed. “Trust me, if you leave, I’ll be worse off. Not better.”
Our hands joined between our half-naked bodies. I believed I’d said the words he needed to hear, but I wanted to strengthen my assurances. Van spoke about his insecurities in a way that was quite similar to how John had been in our relationship.
I, on the other hand, stuffed my insecurities down where they could fester and fuck with my psyche. Back then, no matter how hard I tried to be open and reveal my lack of confidence, I justcouldn’t do it. Most likely because I hated the idea of appearing weak.
“You should know I’m afraid you’ll leave this town,” I began. “You should also know I don’t think I deserve you.”
Van stared at me quizzically, shaking his head, about to try to hush me, but I placed my finger to his lips so I could continue.
“I also believe you are better than I am. Smarter. Enlightened. Intelligent. College-educated. Cultured. Friendlier. And definitely too good looking to choose a sap like me. You aresoooomuch better than I am, Van. So much better. And you deserve to be with the absolute best version of someone deserving of you.”
“Are you done? Because that’s a lot,” he stated. “But you need to understand the best person for me would be you. I know, I know. We only met ten days ago,” he added. “So how could any of these feelings be possible?”
“Ask the messenger who sent you my way,” I teased, lifting my hands and gesturing around the cabin. “Maybe someone, something, somewhere, truly wanted us to meet. Do you ever think we both deserve this chance at love again?”
He smiled, apparently accepting the argument that we deserved what we were experiencing. Our love, and any relationship we expected to build together, would be hard fought. That much was evident. I also knew anything worth having would be hard work, no matter what I felt about us being deserving.
“Maybe John just wants to live here again,” Van said. “He grew up here. His wanting to be around family and friends makes sense,” he added, apparently trying to come to terms with his return, perhaps convincing himself John was no threat.
But I wasn’t so sure. John’s texts didn’t exactly say he wanted another chance with me, but he did ask for my forgiveness. Wouldn’t getting my forgiveness mean we’d start over? I wasconfused. Perhaps as much as Van appeared to be. But I knew in my heart John wasn’t my future.
My desire to gloss over that fact and take a wait-and-see attitude was selfish. I’d vowed that if I were given another shot at a committed relationship, then truth and openness would be a requirement. The decision was obvious.
“I’m not sure, but I think John’s messages mean he wants me back.”
I let the revelation sit right there. I avoided adding any other defense and what my actions might be if John returned, or made declarations of love for Van. What I revealed was the truth, but it had nothing to do with what I wanted when John returned. I had no reason to defend myself.
My limited experience with relationships, having just the one, still allowed me to establish ideas of how most folks would handle a situation like this. I assumed people would protest or carry on about how the other person should feel, but I wasn’t going to try to convince Van who I was.
