JD raises his hand before he speaks again. “He makes a good point, even for a dick. This actually sounds a lot like the mental roadblock Tenley had to get over before she could admit she wanted a future together.”
I narrow my eyes at JD, because I can’t picture Tenley lacking the confidence to start a family. “Didn’t she get pregnant right away, though?”
“She did, but it wasn’t her ability to conceive that was in question. Ten’s stuff was all related to what happens after the babies are born, ironically enough,” JD explains with a shrug.
“Technically, Lo’s insecurities were mostly my fault in the first place,” Blake volunteers. “After all the times she shut me down in high school, I spent the next decade—well, we all know what I was doing,”he admits, looking surprisingly sheepish. “Anyway, by the time I finally got her to give me a shot, I screwed it all up by doing things out of order and basically tapping into her biggest fear, which was becoming her mother. No offense, Lando.”
Landry snorts. “Let’s not get started with the ya-mama jokes.”
Blake laughs quietly. “Mommy issues aside, I should have known better. And I deserved every minute of torture Loren put me through before I was finally able to earn her trust.”
“Tell the truth. You like it when she makes you suffer.” JD elbows his brother.
Blake hums. “Damn right, I do.”
It reminds me of the night I met Claire, and then again when her face filled my mind the moment I wished for something like Blake and Loren have. I’ve already acknowledged that bickering with her is the most fun I’ve ever had. But I think I’d rather join Oscar and Frankie and follow her around like a lovesick puppy than chase after what I used to think I was supposed to have with someone else.
“Okay, so how do I fix it?” I blurt out. “I can’t just tell her I’m in love with her without freaking her out. Every time I so much as hint around about my true feelings, she panics and reinforces our boundaries.”
“You never know. She might surprise you and say all she needed was for you to tell her the truth and make her feel safe enough to do the same,” Landry replies, and the others agree.
“Maybe that’s it,” I whisper to myself, recalling the ways I’ve hurt her by walking away or withholding the truth. “I haven’t been honest enough with her. I keep leaving just enough room for her to doubt me.”
“Yeah, well, until you convince her to change her last name again, don’t forget to leave enough space for the Holy Spirit,” JD leans over my shoulder to add, and I shove him away, unable to hold back my laughter. “For real, though. You could always try showing her what she’s missing.”
“What she’s missing?” I repeat.
JD shrugs. “Make her see you’d be a better husband than the lastguy. Show her all the ways you’d support her, how you’d make her life easier by lightening some of her burdens. Surprise her by doing the yard work or washing the dishes … preferably without a shirt. Listen to her vent about work and take her side, even if she’s in the wrong.”
“Stop by unexpectedly with her favorite candy, especially if she’s having a bad day,” Blake adds. “And remind her that she’s sexy when you know she’s feeling her worst.”
“Take care of something for her. It doesn’t have to be anything big, just say, ‘I’ll handle it.’ And then make sure it gets done,” Landry offers.
JD snaps his fingers. “Oh, communicate with her,” he says, as if it’s the most genius thought he’s ever had, and the others grunt in appreciation.
“But overdo it. Text her for no good reason at all. Pretend you’re confirming plans, even if you remember. They go crazy for that shit,” Blake affirms.
“He’s right,” Landry says on a sigh. “The more I talk about my feelings, the more I get to play Big Bad Wolf.”
I roll my eyes. “Claire doesn’t like talking about her feelings.”
“Wrong,” JD says, imitating a gameshow buzzer. “She’s only holding out because she needs it to be a two-way conversation.”
And to think I’ve been going around assuming I was ready for marriage all this time. I let out a long exhale and scratch the back of my head.
“I guess I’ve been doing some of those things, but obviously not well enough for her to take me seriously,” I admit.
“Probably because you’re afraid to let yourself fall for her completely, since you know it’ll make it that much harder to resist her,” Landry volunteers insightfully.
“And we have a winner,” I say in my own gameshow host impression.
Blake hums. “How often have you been going to confession?”
I swallow hard. I’d gotten myself back to reconciliation a couple of times since that first night with Claire, but I hadn’t been embracing the sacrament the way I used to.
“Not often enough,” I mumble.
“Dirty truck?” Blake asks, nudging his brother.
