And that person is not Ian.
“Oh yeah?” He puts an arm around the back of the couch, angling himself more toward me. “What did you want to talk about?”
I fiddle with the hem of my beige skirt. “Ian, it’s been really great getting to be with you. When we parted like we did in high school, I never imagined we’d ever be close again.”
He nods slowly, and I can sense he knows what I’m about to say. His face doesn’t draw back or look hurt. Instead, he waits patiently for me to finish my thoughts.
“I feel fortunate to call you my friend,” I continue. “But all those years we were apart made us new people. And where we once worked really well together, I think our differences have driven a wedge between us. Not our friendship, but between us as any sort of couple.”
Ian stares at me for a long moment then exhales. “I can see that. I think I’ve seen that for a while now. But I’m grateful we gave it a shot.”
I wait for Ian to say more, but silence looms between us, made worse by the emptiness of our surroundings. “You’re not mad?” I finally ask.
Ian’s forehead scrunches. “No. Not at all,” he says in a level tone. “A little sad, maybe. But I know you’re right. We aren’t the same as we used to be. And honestly, if you’re not my person, I’m glad we’re figuring that out now.”
I nod, but a strange thought hits me. Ian’s response is as docile as a sedated worm. I don’t know what I expected going into this conversation, but I think I was hoping there would be slightly more pushback. A hint that he cared more for our relationship. That some piece of him wanted us to work out.
Wow, can I be any more selfish?I’m hoping that the person I’m breaking up with feels more for me than I do for him.
But maybe that’s just me projecting Jordan onto Ian. Maybe what I really want is forJordanto fight for me. To step forward and tell me how he feels—if he genuinely does have feelings for me, that is. Somewhere deep in the vulnerable alleys of my heart, I’ve allowed myself to believe it.
But if neither Ian or Jordan are capable of loving me and fighting for me, I want someone who will, someone who will step up for our relationship even when difficult things come our way. I want someone who will go to bat against their pride to make sure that I’m theirs, because I will do that for them.
“Okay,” I say into the silence. “Friends then?”
He nods. “Friends.”
My heart instantly feels lighter. This was the right choice. We both stand up, and when we do, we hug, and it feels unexpected but natural, almost as if embracing so casually is a testament to the new status between us. Nothing more than friends. When I glance up and see the easy look in his eyes, I can tell Ian agrees.
He walks me to the door, and I tell him to keep in touch. Ian and I may not be soulmates, but I want him to know I am here for him as a friend if he ever needs one.
I get to the hallway outside his apartment door and wave goodbye, but before I can turn to leave, Ian puts a hand on my arm to stop me.
His eyes are soft and sincere. “Thank you.”
“For what?” I ask sheepishly. I mean, I’m no expert on breakups, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the norm to say “thank you” for crushing another person’s pride.
“For closure,” he says.
I give him a small smile, and his hand drops from my arm.
“For seven years, you’ve been on my mind. I regretted what I did to you in high school. How we left things. And I alwayswondered, what if?” His features flood with relief. “Now I feel like I can move forward knowing we gave it a shot, and it didn’t work. So thank you. Thank you for giving me a second chance when you saw me on our blind date. I needed that.”
We embrace once more. “I’m glad you got closure, Ian. And I’m glad we can be friends now.”
When I walk down to my car and drive back to work, I forgo turning on my music because one word from Ian’s goodbye is playing over and over in my mind.Closure.
My body grips onto that word until I feel every heartbeat pumping its importance through me. I need closure. I need closure with Jordan. I don’t need Z3 or Ian or a string of dates to help me move forward. What I need is to talk things out with Jordan.
I may have told Jordan how I felt about him the night of graduation, but we never actually talked about it. He never responded to my confession. Then, when I was in college, and he called me every Tuesday for weeks, I wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. I was too embarrassed and hurt, and I swore I would never mention my feelings to him again.
But if I am truly going to move forward with my life, I need to know how Jordan feels. No more waiting and hoping. No moredoes he or doesn’t he. And if, in the end, he doesn’t want me, then at least I’ll know for sure.
Just the thought of knowing Jordan’s true feelings once and for all pours bright, hot freedom through me. Like Ian, I know that closure, for better or for worse, is exactly what I need.
Chapter 25
JORDAN
