“And what do you think about that?”
“Honestly? I think it’s bullshit.”
Jake cracked a wry smile. “How come?”
“Because it implies that I’m not doing enough on my own and that they have no faith in me to take care of myself. I don’t need a partner to be considered successful. I don’t need a partner for anything. I want someone I can share my life with someday, but I don’t need them so that I can function better. That’s just toxic.”
“Have you ever said this to them?”
“My folks?” I scoffed. “Oh yes, many times. It goes in one ear and out the other. They’ll always say things like, ‘it’s our job to worry about you, Gabriella,’ or ‘we just don’t want you to be old and alone one day.’ ‘Who will take care of you when you’re at the end of your life?’.”
“How optimistic.”
“And annoying,” I said flatly. “At this point I just avoid going to their house. It’s not something I can sustain, but I needed a break from the endless poking and fussing.”
We reached the food truck. Jake frowned up at the menu board and read it aloud. “Pulled pork mac and cheese? That sounds God awful.”
“You’ve never had it?”
He shook his head. “Who in their right mind would order something like that? It’s two totally separate meals served as one? No thank you.”
“We’re sharing one.”
He laughed. “Uh, I’m good thanks. That sounds like cardiac arrest in a bowl.”
“Yep, it sure is, and it’s worth every bite. Trust me.” I hurried up to the window, where a young man worked with his father taking orders and preparing food. They were sweating bullets back there despite two fans running. I ordered two sodas and a pulled pork mac and cheese, and five minutes later, Jake and I found a shady patch of grass to sit and eat. I opened the box, handed him his plastic fork, and held the meal out to him.
He eyed it skeptically.
“I wouldn’t serve you bad food,” I said.
“Not to get even after everything I put you through?”
I giggled. “On that note, it would be fun revenge, but I promise, this is not that. It’s so good.” I stuck my fork in and grabbed a good bite before popping it in my mouth. “Heavenly.”
Jake followed suit and tried a bite. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Wow.”
“See? I told you! Delicious.”
He went in for more, and we ate with the box sitting between us in the grass. Squirrels and the occasional brave pigeon wandered close to our spot, eyes fixed on the food, but they never got close enough to get a taste.
When we were done, I leaned back on my hands and enjoyed the cool evening breeze blowing through the trees. “Thank you for tonight. I feel like we can finally put everything behind us and move on. The closure feels good.”
“I agree,” Jake said. “Thanks for hearing me out when you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. This helped me as much as it did you. I’ve had a lot of unresolved feelings since the last time I saw you. I kind of hoped time would put all that to bed, but the joke was on me, I guess.”
Without having to look over, I knew he was watching me. I could feel the weight of his gaze, heavy and intent, and I realized how much I’d missed being in his presence. Jake Cassidy was a complicated, conflicted, bruised, growing man. He hadn’t given me all the details of his childhood, but he’d alluded to how bad they were, and it sounded like his old man was to blame for a lot of his trauma. However, as a grown man himself, he couldn’t lean on that blame forever. Eventually, he’d have to put one foot in front of the other and take accountability for his own life and the person he wanted to become.
He had to acknowledge that he had power over himself and that his father no longer did.
From where I was sitting, it seemed like he was starting that journey with the help of counseling.
That made me immensely happy for him and also proud. I’d never expected Jake to take steps like this. I sort of figured there’d always be this bitter, heavy chip on his shoulder. But he was proving me wrong. Hell, he was probably proving himself wrong, too.
Whatever happened, I wanted to know the man he would be when he came out the other side. Something told me he’d be worth the wait.
“I have an idea,” I said.