Page 60 of Ablaze

Sure, I can tell myself that I won’t let anything change between us, even if she doesn’t feel the same way, but just the idea of finally putting my heart on the line, only for her to reject it . . .? I don’t know that I would recover from that type of disappointment.

How would we chalk up my confession to just an awkward moment in the history of our friendship? How would we sweep that under the rug?

I sigh, no longer in the mood to argue with Grams. No longer in the mood to deny anything anymore. “It’s complicated, Grams. Telling her could change everything.”

Grams smiles, as if satisfied with my answer. “And that’s what I’m hoping for.”

* * *

“You boys really cleaned up that cake! Looks like it was a fun poker night,” Jessie chimes, placing her purse on the kitchen counter. Her eyes find the second cake I have covered on the counter behind me before she steps toward it. “Oh, good! There’s another one. I was hopin’ to get a slice.”

I place my hand on the cover, getting her attention. “Actually, this one is for Mala.”

Jessie’s face sours. “Oh. And you didn’t think to make me one?”

I sigh internally. I swear, if I’d told her the cake was for anyone else, she wouldn’t have cared. “I thought you said you were avoiding sweets for a while?”

Jessie snorts, strolling over to my fridge. Her long red hair swings from side to side along with her hips. “Whatever. I don’t give a hill of beans either way. Give your precious cake to your precious Mala.”

She scans the fridge, finding an open bottle of white wine. Walking over to the cupboard, she gets out a stemmed glass and fills it halfway. She takes a healthy sip, closing her eyes like it’s the most rewarding thing she’s had all day before looking at me. Her brows pinch when she realizes I’m still standing in the same spot, watching her. “What’s with the long face, sugar? Somethin’ the matter?”

Yeah, something has always been the matter . . . I was just too stupid to see it until now.

I clear my throat. “I think we should talk.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, observing my stance. “What’s goin’ on? Wait, is this about you not wantin’ to go out Saturday night with my friends from the casino? It’s fine; I already told them you were busy, so–”

“It’s not about that.”

She steps closer. “Then what is it, Dean? You’re makin’ me as nervous as a fly in a gluepot.”

I run a hand over my scruff, taking a moment to gather my thoughts. “I want to break up.”

“What” Jessie blinks, barking out a laugh as her wine sloshes inside the glass. “Why?! Things have been the best they’ve ever been between us!”

The best they’ve ever been? She must be watching a different movie or reading a different book.

Sure, we no longer fight about the same things we used to, but we still argue almost every single day about something or another. I’d hardly call either of us happy.

“They haven't been, Jess. We haven’t been happy together in a long time. We’ve grown in different directions, and I’ve just . . . I’ve realized things I never had the courage to come to terms with before.”

She reels back, crossing her arms and squinting at me like she’s preparing to argue. “What things? What have you realized? What did you not have the courage to come to terms with?” Her mouth turns downward. “I’ve never been good at riddles, Dean, and right now, you seem to be speakin’ in ‘em.”

I take a deep inhale. “Things I should have realized a long time ago.”

It’s as much as I’m willing to say. Maybe Jessie deserves to know more, but the first time I admit my feelings out loud, the only woman I want hearing them is the woman they’re for.

“I’m wasting your time, Jess; and you know it as much as I do. You deserve the things you want–love, marriage, kids–and I’ve told you from the beginning that I won’t be able to give you those–”

“So don’t!” She shakes her head. “I’ve done fine without them things all this time, and I’ll do fine goin’ forward, too. I . . . I just want you, Dean. I don’t need those other things, anyway!”

My chest burns, hating myself for breaking her heart, but knowing I have to.

“Please, Jess,” I beg. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I care about you, I really do. But I know we’ll both be happier apart.”

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “Don’t you dare try to decide what I’ll be happier with or without, Dean Meyer. You can decide that for yourself, but not for me. And, from the looks of it, you already have.”

I don’t respond.

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