I went into this weekend feeling optimistic and hopeful. Not even about being her potential real boyfriend, but in growing the friendship we had started after we agreed to this arrangement.
Now, I don't know what to think, or feel, after last night's confrontation. I thought she might bring it up when we stopped to get gas, but she only asked if I wanted anything while she ran inside to go to the restroom.
It's just hard because my heart is tied into this now. Idon't want to lose her, but I also can't stand idly by while she gets trampled on by her big brother.
“Do you want me to stop and get anything to eat before we get to your house?” Maybe opening up some dialogue will help.
She doesn't say anything for a moment, and I worry she's fallen asleep. Her head is leaning against the window, and her eyes are closed. She’s been in that position for most of the four hour journey. I wish I knew what she was thinking.
“No, thank you. I'm pretty sure I have food at the house.”
“Oh, okay. I just wanted to be helpful.”
“You have been Tristan. More than you know.” Then she doesn’t say another word.
I don't know how I'm supposed to read into that. Even though I'm the type of guy that can roll with the circumstances in most occasions, I can't do that when it comes to relationships.
Right now, I don't know if I pushed her too far when I told her she needed to confront her brother while we were at the beach house. And now, I don't know that she ever will as defiant as she can be. She always tries to do the right thing, unless it's blackmailing me into going on this vacation with her. I smile remembering how that went down. Even though I was pretty mad at the time. It was clever.
We pull into her driveway and I put her car in park before turning it off. Opening the door, I hurry around to her side and open hers.
It's a lot colder here than it was down by the beach, and I'm already missing the temperature difference.
As soon as she's out of the car, I pop open the trunk and grab her suitcase and comforters.
“You don't have to carry them in for me.” She doesn't sound annoyed. But she doesn't sound like she wants me to come inside either.
However, my mother would be horrified if I let her carry her own bags inside.
She takes out my duffel and sets it beside my car. I have a feeling today isn't going to end the way I expected it to do.
Not just on her part, but on mine as well. I need her to figure out what she really wants, and she needs to figure that out as well. Not because I want her too, though. She needs to want to do it.
Because, despite how much she doesn't want to work at the winery, I saw a little spark of interest at being a part of her family legacy. Which is fine by me. I can't tell her what to do with her life, and I want her to do whatever makes her happy. But I also know if she's not all in, she's going to end up resenting her family.
Following her to her door, I wait for her to unlock it and push it open.
“You can set those right there.” She points to a spot just inside the door. “Most of that stuff is dirty clothes, and I need to wash the comforter to make sure there isn't any sand in it, because my mom is right. That stuff gets everywhere and never goes away.”
I do as she asks and set her stuff down in the frontentryway. Luckily, there's only one comforter she'll have to wash because the other one I packed away in her bag after we bought it.
I hate this weird feeling between us, and not knowing where I stand. The only reason I slept on the floor last night was to give her space, because she seemed like she needed it, and I didn't want to smother her. But maybe that was the wrong thing to do, because this morning, she's acting as if she doesn't want anything to do with me.
“Look,” I say at the same time as she's set as she opens her mouth to speak. “You go first.” I concede what I was going to say so she can say what’s on her mind.
She clears her throat and shoves her hands into the pockets of her leggings. “Thank you for coming with me this weekend. It was a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, I've never been one for beaches, But I had a good time.”
“So, what you're saying is you'll be my fake boyfriend on anything I have to go to?” Her use of the word fake makes my stomach drop.
“Well, I mean, I kind of thought I was your actual boyfriend. But yes, I will go anywhere you ask me to.”
“You know what I mean.” She waves away my comment. “Anyway, I have a lot to do to prepare for the next week, so I'm gonna go do that.”
“Oh, okay.” What else can I say. It’s a clear dismissal.
I reach in for a hug and give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Look, I know things were weird last night, and a lot of stuff happened, but I'm going to give you your space so youcan figure out what it is you want and what you want to do. Because even though I told you to live day by day and in the moment. And to take a shot on something new. I don’t know if I can be in this back-and-forth space. You need to figure out what it is you want, and if I’m a part of that.”
