Saying all this to the one person I feel safest with in the world is nice, but I know it can’t stay like this. Soon, she’s going to lecture me, tell me I have to think rationally, and talk things out with Braxton.
But then I consider something. She probably knows something I don’t. Kirsten probably knows just what’s going through Braxton’s head about all this. Perhaps Braxton told Beau that he didn’t want anything to do with me after last night. And maybe Beau said he didn’t blame him, which would likely infuriate Kirsten. If such a chain of events took place, she wouldn’t be forthcoming about it.
“Things are good with Beau and you, right?” I say after a long pause.
She nods. “He’s picking me up in a few hours.”
I scrunch my eyes shut. “For your Valentine’s date.” I picture the green dress and wonder if Kirsten noticed it when she opened my garage.
“Right,” she says.
I think back on something and dare myself to ask. “You and Beau recently said you loved each other for the first time. Who said it first?”
“I did,” she says.
“And he just…said it right back?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t always work like that. It’s okay if you wait and say it when you’re ready. From what you told me, Braxton understands.”
I recall our whispered conversation while we washed dishes at the sink. Kirsten’s reaction made me feel like maybe it wasn’t such a big deal after all.
But a lot has happened since then.
“My advice to you is don’t say it until you’re ready. But once you are—once you have that first realization that you’ve fallen in love with him, seize the moment. Tell him right then and there, no matter where you are or what’s happening around you.”
I nod wordlessly. It’s an assumptive thing to say. As if Kirsten believes that day and time will actually come.
“If it ever happens,” I say, hoping I can follow through with what I’m about to say. “I’ll do it.”
“Good.” Kirsten lifts my copy of Cupid Darts from the side table and thumbs through it. After a while, she asks me something. “Did you ever read the inscription on this?”
My shoulders lift, then fall. “No. I was waiting.”
Kirsten gently closes the book and rests it on the coffee table. “You should read it.”
“I don’t know if I want to now. I feel like that whole book is ruined for me. I was so positive I was on the right track.”
“I think youareon the right track,” Kirsten says. “You just…hit a speed bump, is all.”
Why isn’t she telling me what’s going on with Braxton? I know she knows. How didhespend his night last night? Was he as upset as I was? Is he as messed up today as I am?
“Are you going to turn your phone back on now?” she asks. It’s like an unspoken game of hardball. If I want to know what’s going on with Braxton, I have to be willing to hear from him directly.
The thing is, if I turn on my phone to find I haven’t missed even one text or call from him, I’ll feel worse than ever. At leastwhile it’s off, I can imagine that he’s trying very hard to get through. Asking if I’ll forgive him. If we’re still on for our Valentine’s date.
Only as the day has gone on, it’s gotten harder to imagine him making any such attempt.
“What’s Braxton thinking?” I finally ask.
Kirsten holds my gaze. “The boys went out for drinks after we left. Braxton ranted the whole time. He’s upset that you’re willing to throw out a good relationship over something that happened before you even knew each other.”
“That’s only a small part of it,” I say, irritation coating my words. “Yousaw how he acted about it last night. He was a total jerk. Laughing like it was no big deal.”
Kirsten stands to her feet and smooths a strand of hair behind one ear. “I heard that, yeah, but I also heard you blaming Braxton for stuff he shouldn’t have to take the blame for.”
“Well, he practically ruined my life back then,” I say. “I just wanted him to say he was sorry.”
“He did say he was sorry,” Kirsten says. She’s getting her coat on now.
