“Damn it, Kate. Tell me you know.”
“Do you know he’s never reached out to me? Not even as an adult,” I reply softly, tears brimming in my eyes. “When I was a kid, I imagined my mom was the one keeping him from me. Believed he wanted to see me, but she wouldn’t let him. I counted down the days until I turned eighteen, thinking he would come back into my life because she could no longer keep him from me.” I sigh, my shoulders falling. “But he didn’t contact me and likely never will. I don’t even know if he’s still alive. He’s disappeared from my life as if he never existed.”
“It’s his loss, Kate. If he can’t see how amazing you are, he doesn’t deserve to be in your life. Anyone who doesn’t want you in their life isn’t worth your time.”
My breath quickened. “But you left me, too,” I whisper, grateful he can’t see the hurt in my eyes. The pain he caused years ago, dying to finally release itself and make him explain his actions.
“Fuck, Kate. I never meant… I never wanted to hurt you.” His voice is strained, holding back conflicting emotions
“I know, but you did. One day, I’d like to know why.”
He sighs deeply, shifting on the ATV seat. “I’m not sure where to begin?—”
“Not today. Don’t tell me today. I want to enjoy the rest of the day and forget my problems.”
He gulps loudly. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” I reply assertively, pushing my feelings back into the box where they’ve been held for fifteen years. “Now, are you going to show me a good time as you promised, or should I take over?”
He shakes his head and chuckles, squeezing my hands wrapped around his waist before taking off.
We spend the rest of our time traversing the trails in the woods, across empty farm fields. There are moments of silence where our breathing synchronizes, and our chests beat againsteach other. Other moments are filled with reminiscing about our childhood, where we traipsed through these same fields. We avoid talking about the hard stuff. My mom. My dad. His mom. Brian. And what happened between us. Choosing to bury our heads in the sand for one more day.
nineteen
It’s beena week since Jake and I went ATV riding, and he swears what he has planned for tonight is low-key. Although low-key and Jake aren’t commonly used in the same sentence, I’m trying to trust his process. And trusthim, even though it makes me nervous.
Not much has changed with Brian. He sent me six dozen red carnations after his trip to Florida, with a note saying how much he missed me. I want to believe him, but he makes it so fucking hard when he dodges my calls and texts. The regular delivery of carnations doesn’t help, considering I’ve shared multiple times how much I dislike this specific flower. In the past, I convinced myself it was sweet that he would send his fraternity flower instead of one I preferred. Now it makes me wonder whether he ever really listens to me or cares about what I want. I’m starting to question if I’ve been bending to his needs for our entire relationship. And his recent behavior does nothing to quiet my growing concern.
Exasperated, I sigh, conflicted about what to do next and who I can truly rely on long-term. I shake my head and exhaledeeply. Trying to solve all my problems tonight is a fool’s errand. The drama will still be here tomorrow and the day after.
In my childhood bedroom, I stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the outfit I put together. As usual, Jake gave me very little to go on, besides telling me to dress casual, clarifying that he means jeans, not slacks and a cardigan. He knows these vague directions drive me crazy, and he seems to relish making me squirm.
I settle on a pair of dark skinny jeans, my favorite off-the-shoulder sweatshirt with a tank underneath, and a pair of sneakers. Gen Zers can lecture me about the alleged death of the skinny jean, but they’ll have to pry this pair out of my cold, dead hands. These jeans elongate my five-foot-nine-inch frame, making my legs look longer and leaner. It’s one of the few outfits that make me feel relaxedandbeautiful at the same time.
Two light knocks on my bedroom door startle me. “Are you decent in there?” Jake asks.
“Yes.”
A sigh of relief courses through my body when I see him in dark jeans, an obscure band tee, and a worn-out baseball cap with a deep curve in the bill. A version of his go-to outfit anytime we’re out in public.
He smiles softly as he looks me up and down. “You look… You look really nice tonight, Kate.” He turns his head and clears his throat. “Are you ready to have some fun?”
“Yep. Any chance you’ll tell me where we’re going?”
“Not a chance in hell,” he answers, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head. “You know better.”
I shrug. “A girl’s gotta try.” I shove my credit card, cash, and ID in the back pocket of my jeans and shimmy my lip gloss into my front pocket, silently cursing clothing manufacturers who have apparently never worn a pair of women’s jeans and tried to use the front pockets.
I follow Jake out of the house, eager to see where the night goes and escape my worries.
“Are you going to be annoyed with the lip gloss in your front pocket all night, or should I hold it like usual?” Jake turns his head in my direction, offering an open hand.
Squinting, I furrow my brow, trying to replay what I said to him in my room a few minutes ago. I swear I didn’t mention anything about my lip gloss. Don’t even remember making any sound when I forced it into my pocket. That would mean… It can’t mean.
“Thanks,” I reply, handing it over to him while he holds open the passenger door for me to climb into his truck. He effortlessly slides it into his front pocket as he winks at me and closes my door. My mouth drops open, bewildered by how he can remember this tiny detail from decades ago, and yet my fiancé can’t recall how much I hate carnations. I keep my eyes focused on him as he walks around the truck, desperate to control myself before he gets in.
“Ready?” He starts the engine, glancing in my direction.
