Angie watched me for a second. “I think you need to talk to her.”
I squirmed.
“I mean it. You know, I always say that a relationship needs three things—”
“Trust, communication, and respect?”
She smiled. “That’s right. How many of those do you have?”
“Two out of three. I think the trust and respect are there, it’s just the communication part that’s not happening.”
“I know you don’t want to lose her, but you might anyway if you keep your mouth shut. If she doesn’t know how you feel, how can she be okay? And if you don’t know how she feels, how can you be okay? You should be honest, communicate. Then it’ll be easier to make decisions on what comes next.”
“And if she tells me she doesn’t feel the same and bolts?”
Angie’s big brown eyes softened. “Well, then you’ll know you weren’t in the same place.”
I scrubbed a hand over my mouth. “I dunno, Ang. That’s not how dating works. It’s all about this game, this power struggle. And Penny doesn’t just play the game. She practically invented it. I’m an anomaly for her, and I know she cares, but I don’t know if she knows how to play it straight.”
“You don’t have to play the game, you know? You don’t have to participate. Just tell her what you want and how you feel and see if she feels the same way.”
“Maybe I will. I’ve just got to be careful.”
“I know,” she said gently. “But you’re not going to break her.”
I only wished I could have believed that were true.
It’s cool.
We’re cool.
Everything’s cool.
It was my mantra for the rest of the afternoon at work, like a goddamn record skipping in an anxiety loop in my brain. It wasn’t like I hadn’t known he was going to be busy. I had. He’d told me. I knew. I swear.
It wasn’t me. He just had work to do, that was all. Which meant nothing was wrong and everything was cool and fine and perfect.
My guts twisted up at the lie.
The last two days had been nothing like the two days before the wedding. Those days had been busy with wedding stuff and happy lovey-dovey feelings about Bodie. And then, shit had to go and get all serious.
My mood had vacillated a thousand times in forty-eight hours, going from perfectly content to doomsday in a five-minute span. We’d texted and talked a few times, but he was working, and I was trying to respect that. It was just that my psycho brain wouldn’t comply.
I tried to visualize the wedding. I thought about the sweetness of Bodie’s arms around me, his lips against mine. Pictured him holding my face in my kitchen, telling me it was okay.
Of course, then I thought about what he was doing. I mean, Angie was over there, but I wasn’t allowed to be. I told myself that I’d be a distraction, but then I thought maybe he could use a break. He’d been working so hard, and I missed him. I considered swinging by with donuts or ice cream or some offering. I imagined him being so happy to see me, imagined him ditching work for a bit for kissing and laughing and talking, just so we could be in each other’s arms for a minute, so I could hold onto the feeling of him, to reassure myself that things were fine.
I could just stop by for a minute or two or whatever — I had an hour before my next job — and I smiled to myself, grabbing my bag and blowing out of the shop without a word to anyone, daydreaming about him being so happy to see me that he’d kiss me and ask me to stay.
I wanted to see him. I could make it happen. I would make it happen.
Even though he doesn’t want you to come over.
I nearly skidded to a stop on the sidewalk at the thought.
Fucking Peggy.
With a smile that would make the Grinch cringe, she told me that he didn’t want me there, that he didn’t want to see me. He wanted me to wait until tomorrow because he didn’t care to see me, or maybe he wanted to dump me. Either that or he was seeing someone else. Or just didn’t really like me all that much. He wanted my body, wanted my flesh, not my heart, not my soul.
I took a deep breath as cold panic set in. In the span of five minutes, I’d disregarded what he needed, what he’d asked of me, for my own wants and needs. I’d pushed up against that line, and the shock of the realization hit me with a jolt.
This was everything I’d been trying to avoid, everything I didn’t want.
I’d broken the three-date rule for what had become my favorite dick in the whole world, and this was the price I’d pay. I’d turn into a hot, steaming mess and ruin everything, self-destruct, sabotage my happiness, burn it all down.