They argued, of course. All married couples with any life left in their marriage argued. I remembered very distinctly being upset by one of their arguments once and telling them that married people should argue with each other. They sat me down right then and explained that loving each other didn’t mean they were always going to agree on everything, and not agreeing on something didn’t mean they didn’t love each other.
In fact, it was those arguments that still sprung up between them every now and then that proved they were still in love. Their marriage was still going and still thriving. They told me that if a married couple never argued, chances were they’d given up and there was nothing left even worth talking about.
At the end of the day, even when they sounded like they were at each other’s throats and admitted to being driven up a wall by the other one, they were still what the other wanted. They still wanted to kiss good night and lie down together. They still saw funny things on TV and wanted to share it. They still wanted to rant and rave to someone and first thought of the other.
From that moment, that was what I aspired to. The type of love that meant I could spend an entire day arguing with my husband, then tell him about the hilarious thing that just happened on our favorite TV show, still feel frustrated at him, kiss him good night, and wake up the next morning with the unshaken belief that we were meant to be together.
It was that assertion that made it so easy to dismiss the failed date with Josh. I knew quickly he wasn’t going to be someone I could form a lasting relationship with. He’d seemed like a perfectly nice guy at the time, and I was sure then that he would make some girl very happy. But he wasn’t for me. We weren’t going to be the kind of match that lasted. Knowing that right off the bat meant it would just be a waste of time to keep trying.
Of course, now that I’d seen a glimpse of the other side of Josh, I was even more grateful I’d decided to step away when I did. That was the kind of behavior that would come out of him at some point or another, and if he could get that aggressive and angry over getting turned down for a date, I didn’t want to experience what he was like when something genuinely serious happened.
There was something to be said for taking time to get to know someone and discovering feelings as they developed. But that had to come with some feeling of hope. There had to be at least a glimmer of something in those slow-burn days. I felt like that was what I had with Deacon. The months of having an unspoken crush gave me the chance to get to know him as a friend, and then we’d eased into something more, gradually getting to know each other better and taking step by step until I was fully invested.
I could see a future with him now. The kind of future I very much wanted. I hadn’t limited myself to choosing just a career path or just a home life like I’d experienced a lot of my female friends do as we grew up. I wanted both, and I was determined I could have them both. I’d follow my passion and be a successful, well-known tattoo artist someday. But that wasn’t going to stop me from being a wife and someday a mother as well.
Having a family was everything to me. And for the first time, I thought I might have found someone I could see myself having that family with. That was what made all the questions and worries more terrifying.
They were still haunting me when Monday came, and I went into the diner for work. It wasn’t nearly as busy as Monday lunch shifts usually were, which made me truly relieved to not have a lot to do. I’d been working for a couple of hours when I looked up and saw Carter coming through the door. I could see there were people behind him, and my heart leaped into my throat as I waited for Deacon to follow him in.
The feeling got even worse when the lumber crew paused at the hostess podium, and I realized Deacon wasn’t with them. Trying not to show it that I even noticed, I crossed the diner to them and said hello to the guys and hugged Lauren. I brought them to a table and waited for one of them to offer why Deacon wasn’t there with them. But none of them did.
As I brought them their drinks and then their food, I noticed all of them giving me side glances. They hadn’t told me why Deacon wasn’t there or asked about him, and I could only imagine by the way they were acting that he was angry with me for pulling away the way I did. It almost seemed like they were stuck in the middle, trying to decide where they stood in the situation.