“My brothers really ticked me off at the boys' night.”
My brow furrows. “When you went bowling? That was weeks ago.”
“Yeah, but it’s still bothering me.”
I resist the urge to join him on the bed. What Trish said, close to that same time, hasn’t stopped haunting me either.
“What did they say?”Please don’t let it be what Trish said.
“They don’t even have a straight story. They all just think that…that you and I aren’t going to last. That I’m just going to end up hurting you. Or vice versa,” he adds halfheartedly.
My body reacts before I can fully process the words. A flash of heat across my face, a blast of cold up my neck, a wave of nausea in my gut. I thought I was getting stronger, more confident. I thought that—independent of Beau’s affections—I’d come to a place of stability.
But as I replay his words, I feel wrecked. If Trish’s comment was the pull of a thread, this is tying that thread to a rocket ship as it blasts off. The entire sweater is unraveling at warp speed, and I’m left feeling vulnerable and bare.
“What doyouthink?” I ask, realizing it’s not so much that his brothers said what they did; it’s the question that follows.Why is he telling me this?
Because he agrees with them. Because it’s making him face reason. This is all too good to be true. He’s realizing he doesn’t want me for the long haul, even if he wishes he did, me being so ‘stable and family oriented.’But what he really wants is someone like Trish, so he can go off and repeat the cycle again and again.
He exhales a deep breath. “WhatIthink,” he says, “is that I like you. And that they’re wrong.”
I feel it coming. So much that I almost say it myself to coax it out of him.
Yet Beau beats me to it. “But…”
“But?”Ouch, ouch, ouch.I’m already hurting everywhere, and I don’t even know where it’s going. It can’t be anywhere good. I know that much.
“But I want to make sure.”
I don’t even know what that means, but then I have to wonder if perhaps he’s been listening to someone other than his brothers. Someone he used to be married to. Someone who already whispered bitter somethings into my ear at the soccer game.
I shake my head and turn my gaze out the window. It’s dark, save for the streetlights and traffic. “Trish said you’d do this,” I say. “She says you only want me because I’m stable. Did she tell you that too?”
I sense Beau shift on the bed before he answers. “No, but who cares what she thinks?”
“Maybe you do. Especially if your brothers feel the same way.” Tears sting my eyes. My chin starts to quiver.
Suddenly, Beau’s sliding onto the couch and gliding a hand up my arm. “They’re wrong,” he coaxes, but a deep, dark ache in my heart says they’re not.
“But you want to make sure,” I remind him.
He sighs and pulls a sad grin. “I’m just trying to dissect things. We fell into this pretty quick, you know? The last thing I’d ever want to do is hurt you.”
I nod, sensing that it’s time. He’s working his way out of the relationship, trying to ease his way so it’s not too painful or cruel. “Yeah. Why don’t you take some time then, okay?”
Beau’s face scrunches. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I think you should go to your own hotel room now. We’ll drive home tomorrow with the kids, be polite and all, and…take some time apart so you can figure out if they’re right or wrong.”
“Kirsten, I don’t need—”
“Clearly youdo,” I challenge, shooting to my feet and striding quickly to the door. “I’m not your type. If you’re going to go off to find another Trish, I don’t want to stick around for it.”
He follows me to the door but pauses in the doorway and checks over both shoulders. “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”
“Please just don’t, Beau, okay?” It comes out louder than I mean it to. And angrier, too. I’m so hurt I want to kick and cry like a child. “Stop trying to do this in some…gradual, low-key way. If you don’t want to date me anymore, just say so.”
“Ido,” he persists.
