“What’s your point?”
“I’m just wondering how long you can stick with it, that’s all.”
What was the matter with him? “Until the end of the school year, at least.”
“That’s your commitment.”
“That’s my contract. Maybe when Beverly retires…But that’s the best I can do right now.”
“I thought you didn’t want to settle.”
“I’m not settling. This gives me time to figure out what I really want. Circumstances change. Feelings change.”
“Exactly.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What—exactly—are you getting at?”
He moved his beer bottle a precise half turn to the right. “Two months ago, you were in love with some other guy.”
My thigh jiggled under the table. “And I broke up with him. You were there.”
Joe nodded toward my phone. “He’s still messaging you.”
So hehadseen the lock screen.
“Are we really doing this while your ex-wife is serving us drinks?” I asked.
Joe’s jaw set. “What does he want?”
I spread my hands in frustration. “I don’t know. To be friends? To be forgiven? Closure? It doesn’t matter. I’m with you now.”
“Until the end of the school year, you said.” Joe crossed his arms. “Until something better comes along.”
Obviously, I’d touched a sore spot.
“I’m not looking for better.” My heart beat in my throat, threatening to choke me. “I love you.”
For a moment, his face was dazed, open, vulnerable, before his expression closed, shutting me out. “No, you don’t.”
I gaped. Definitely not the response I was hoping for. But the words were out there. I wouldn’t take them back. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel,” I said, my face hot. “I’ve been with somebody who did that, and I’m done. I’m sorry I don’t have my whole life figured out yet. Maybe I don’t have a final destination, maybe I don’t know exactly how to get there, but at least I’m moving on. And you’re not.”
“We’re not talking about me.”
“Maybe we should. I want to stay here. I want to be with you. But whatever I say, whatever I do, that’s not enough.” My eyes were burning. “Because as long as you can make this about me, about me leaving, you don’t have to take responsibility. You don’t have to take the risk. The problem is, you won’t admit what you want. What do you want, Joe?”
Tell me you want me, I begged silently. Tell me you love me.
“I don’t want to be somebody’s backup plan. Mr.GoodEnough. The guy who will do for now because you miss somebody else.”
“You are not a substitute for Chris,” I snapped.
“Not your boyfriend. Your dad.”
Two words, aimed right at my heart. He might as well have stabbed me. Because he was taking something I’d trusted him with, a grief we shared, and using it as a weapon.
My hurt bubbled, boiled, spilled out in words. “You know what? You’re right. I do miss my dad. Because he gave me something, okay? He saw me. He valued me. He loved me unconditionally. Whenever I screwed up, every time I wasn’t enough or I was too much, too extra, everybody on the island would say, ‘That’s just Annie.’ Like an excuse. But Dad always said, ‘That’smyAnne.’ Like he was proud of me, proud of what I did.”
My voice was rising. People were turning to look. Let them.
