She doesn’t answer but just gives a stern, “Beau.”
I try to think about how I want to respond, but I open my mouth, and everything comes pouring out.
“My head tells me I need to stay the fuck away from her. It continuously reminds me that this woman ripped me to shreds. Then, I get around her, and…” My voice trails off.
Mom says, “And you suddenly get all the warm and fuzzy feelings?”
“No. She still drives me insane. But every time I’m around her, I’m also reminded how much I miss her. I think about the good times we used to have.”
“And you don’t think you guys could be friends again?” Mom asks.
“I feel like it’s one of those fool me once, shame on you, but fool me twice, shame on me things. What if she fucks me over again?”
“Do you think she would?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t think I’m ready to find out.”
She leans back in her chair and takes a bite of a donut.
“Mom, when did you become Team Jo?”
“I’m not Team Jo.”
“No? That’s what you’re acting like.” An attitude seeps into my tone.
“While I wasn’t exactly thrilled about Jo being back in town, I also know that for a long time, her being back is what you wanted. And it sounds like she’s really trying to make amends.”
“What makes you say that?”
Her eyes narrow on me. “When have you ever known Jo to apologize? And more than once for that matter?”
She has a point, but I don’t know that I’m ready to admit that.
She keeps going, “Look, it’s your decision, but it sounds like maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to just hear her out.”
I fall silent for a minute. “I’m scared that the moment I let her back in, I’m going to fall in love with her again.”
She nods but doesn’t say anything for a while. When she finally does speak, she says, “Have you ever thought about the idea that maybe she could feel the same way?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Mom, she had years to fall in love with me. I don’t see it happening now.” I love my mom, but I’m not wanting to continue talking about this. “Look, I’ll think about what you said, but–”
She cuts me off again. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop meddling…right after I say one final thing.”
I sigh. “What?”
“You just came in here the other day and told me I had to stop living in the past. I think maybe you should take your own advice.”
She then changes the subject, but I don’t stay much longer. I’m ready to get home and enjoy my relaxing day. I’m done talking about Jo.
On my way home, though, she plagues my thoughts. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she really is sorry. But neither of thosethings negates the damage she did. I don’t think anything can undo it.
As I get back to my house, I see something on the porch. When I get closer, I see it’s a shoe box.
A box with a brand new pair of the shoes that were ruined last night.
