My error.Again. I’d kinda lost count of them at this point.
“Let’s align them back. Brian—” I began. But honest to God, I couldn’t keep going while he was standing there naked and clearly gettingveryhappy to see me. What about this situation could possibly be arousing? “Would you put some clothes on? Please?”
“Why?” He ran a hand up his chest to tweak his own nipple. “You’ve seen it all before.Lotsof times.”He smiled slyly and stepped closer.“In fact, you’ve done more than look.”
Which didnotmean that I wanted to see it now, but whatever. I took another step away, until I was brushing up alongside the ice scraper that was still sticking out of the wall at an odd angle. I realized I’d basically let the man chase me halfway around my own dining table.
Jesus.
I stood up a little straighter and set my shoulders back. I was bigger than Brian—by a lot—and while I generally made a point not to use my size to intimidate people, I wasn’t going to be forced into a game of ring-around-the-rosy with my naked, soon-to-be-ex boyfriend either.
I clenched my hands into fists and took a deep breath. “Brian, this thing isn’t working out.”
“I know! Dinner isruined. And we know whose fault that is. But it’s okay. I’ve already forgiven you for the veal. I’ll make us some pasta later.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “After-sex pasta is my favorite.”
Wow.No.
“Not the dinner, I mean the…us. You and me. It’s not…good.It’s nothealthy.” Big words eluded me. “And I don’t think either of us are really happy.”
“What?” Brian whispered, the smile falling from his face. “Of course I’m happy! I’mecstatic. You’re everything I want in a lover, Jamie. You’re easygoing, and hard-working, and… just… just… reallygood.”
It sounded exactly like my description of him.
Except Iwasn’tgood. Seemed like once I’d boarded the realization train—thank you so much, Everett—I couldn’t disembark, and I saw in a flash that Iwasn’tgood to Brian and never really had been.
You couldn’t be good to parsley.
I’d been tolerant. I’d been patient. I’d let him steamroll me on things I didn’t care about—which were most things, if I was being honest. I’d eaten a lot of veal in the past few weeks because it was easier than arguing, and we’d seen the movies he wanted to see because we had wildly different tastes, but I hadn’t cared enough to convert him. None of that had been motivated by real affection, though. More like a need for distraction. A need to not see the glaring absence of an entree in the middle of my plate.
“Brian, you are a great guy,” I began slowly, sadly.
“Oh myGod! No.No, Jameson Burke, you arenotdoing this on our one-month date-iversary! Can’t it wait until tomorrow? Or the next day? Why do you have to ruintonight?” he wailed, throwing out his hands like he could somehow ward off my words, and my heart hurt a little because leave it to me to find the one guy in the greater O’Leary area who was even more deluded than me. His big eyes widened farther. “Should I have gone for the chicken?”
“No,” I said gently. “This was… a nice thought. And I mean, yes, I really wish you hadn’t, you know,broken into deliver it. But you deserve better than… this. We’re just not meant to be.”
“Ofcoursewe are,” Brian said, sounding slightly horrified. “Relationships are work, always! They don’t justhappen.Youhaveto make an effort.Maybe we could try couples therapy, or—”
“Oh, no,” I said firmly. “No. That’s never going to happen.”
“Right. God forbid you should have to talk about something, Jameson.”
“Hey, I talk!” I said. “I talk!”
Brian shook his head, threw his hands in the air dramatically, and stalked down the hall to my bedroom.
I trailed behind him, trying not to look at his ass shaking.
“Years from now, when we look back on this day, you’re going to feel like shit,” he said over his shoulder.
“Probably,” I agreed, leaning against the door frame. I felt like shit already. “I’m sorry. I really wish…”I could be normal and like a guy who likes me. That I’d had this realization before we got back together.I shook my head uselessly.
Brian ignored me. He grabbed his jeans from his neatly folded stack of clothing at the end of my bed and dragged them on commando, then stood up again. “You. Are. Emotionally. Stunted.” He punctuated each word with a jab of his finger into my chest. “You live in a fucking mausoleum.”Jab.“And you don’t know how to be happy or to enjoy a fuckingmomentwithout thinking about what happened ten years ago or what’s happening ten minutes from now. Before you come crawling back to me, you’d better be ready for therapy, understand? You have someseriouswork to do. You’ll be lucky if I take your callat all,” he finished. Then he turned with a flounce to grab his shirt.
I wanted to tell him that I seriously doubted hell was going to freeze over anytime soon, but the last thing I wanted was to prolong this conversation.
“I’ll help you out to your car with the—” I frowned. “Wait, whereisyour car? It wasn’t in the driveway.”
“It’s at home.” Brian sniffed. “In Camden. I took a taxi. Otherwise, it would have spoiled the surprise.”
