His head lifted and I could practically see the hope spark in his eyes, which made what I had to say next suck even more. But I had to say it because he deserved my honesty.
"I care about you, Brian. I consider you a good friend, but I don't love you. Not the way a woman should love you when she accepts your marriage proposal."
He recoiled from me. There was no other way to describe it. "Good friend? You sleep at my house, in my bed, or I'm in yours, every time you're in town for more than a day. We talk on a daily basis. Youtoldme you love me."
I frowned. "I've never said that. I wouldn't say that to you if I didn't feel it." Shit. Wrong choice of words yet again. "What I mean is that I love you the way I love my friends and if I've ever told you that, then that was my meaning." I knew I hadn't said the words but that wasn't an argument I needed to start right now. "But you deserve a woman who loves you with her whole heart and soul. Who thinks of you and is willing to put you first. And I'm not the woman who will do that for you."
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This conversation was not going the way I wanted it to go. I couldn't find the right words. The words that would explain how I felt without hurting him more. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time was a talent of mine, one I had done nothing to cultivate but still excelled at all the same.
Brian shook his head as though he couldn't believe I didn't feel the way he did. "I can't believe this."
I reached out to touch his arm, but he stepped back as though he feared I had the plague. "I really am sorry that I hurt you this way. If I'd realized how you were feeling, I would have talked to you before now. I don't want to cause you pain."
He scoffed. "Then why did you lead me to believe you were serious about me?"
In my mind, I hadn't. Despite his insistence, I hadn't told him I loved him. I hadn't mentioned marriage, or plans for our relationship in the future. I didn't even have a toothbrush at his house!
However, I'd spent enough years dealing with my parents that I knew it was impossible to manage his expectations after he'd already made up his mind. All I could do now was be honest and sincere, apologize for hurting him, and hope that he would understand.
"I'm sorry if I did because that was never my intention." That was all I could say.
There was nothing else to discuss after that. Needless to say, the car ride to my apartment was awkward because he'd picked me up. He drove in silence, both hands clenching the wheel as if it were his lifeline. He didn't speed or drive recklessly, but I still couldn't relax.
When he pulled up to my building, I turned toward him. "I want you to have a good life, Brian. I sincerely hope you find the woman you deserve as a wife, because you are a good man with a good heart."
His jaw ticked as he faced me. " What I definitely don't deserve is the kind of woman who gets off on breaking someone's heart."
Though it remained unspoken I heard thelike youhe implied with that statement. But I didn't reply because I knew the futility of trying to change his perspective when he was hurt and humiliated.
"Good-bye, Brian."
And that was the last time I'd seen or spoken to him.
"Oh, my God. Ben Murphy is here. He must be looking to get laid."
I blinked as the woman next to me spoke and realized I'd been sitting at the bar, lost in thought, for a long while. Most of the ice in my drink had melted. I shoved it back and lifted a hand toward the bartender. She saw my signal and set about making me another vodka and club soda. She even remembered to add three lime wedges as I'd asked for the first time I'd ordered. Excellent attention to detail. She was definitely getting a good tip from me tonight.
"Yeah, right," the other woman said.
If they hadn't been sitting so close to me, I never would have overheard the conversation, but in that corner of the bar, their words were clear even though they were soft.
"I heard he hooked up with Patricia Casper last week," the blonde argued as she tossed her long hair and nearly hit me in the face with it. Ugh. Rude much, Blondie?
"What? I hadn't heard that. Who told you?"
Blondie leaned toward her friend. "Patricia herself."
Her friend rolled her eyes. "Seriously? She was probably lying. When was the last time Ben had a one-night stand with a local girl?"
Blondie shrugged. "Pretty sure most of them wouldn't say a word because they want him to come back for more. A lot of the girls around here would cut a bitch to marry Ben Murphy."
"Sex isn't marriage, Gina," the friend said.
So that was Blondie's name. I made a mental note of it because I always tried to keep track of the catty bitches I ran across. Mostly so I could avoid them in the future.
My drink arrived and I slid a twenty across the bar to the bartender. "Keep the change." She smiled at me and moved on as Ben Murphy approached the bar on the other end, sitting in a stool directly across from the two gossips next to me.
At least he wouldn't be able to hear what they were saying about him as they eyed him like a slab of rare prime rib.
