The room is silent for a couple of minutes, except for our breathing. I don’t feel comfortable sharing more about my relationship with Brian, but it also feels incredibly awkward to just go back to installing the shower bar.
God, I hope he doesn’t ask any other questions. I don’t have it in me to discuss the concerns swirling in my mind about my relationship. I want to avoid the subject until I’ve had a chance to talk to Brian in person and can determine, once and for all, whether he’s truly the one for me.
Jake looks at the ceiling, inhaling sharply and letting out a long exhale.
Fuck. He’s about to say something serious. It’s another of his go-to tells. My fingernails dig into my palms, and I brace myself for what he’s about to say and how I might need to respond.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but what you said about Brian could be said about anyone in your life. It doesn’t answer why he’s the right man for you.” His eyes fix on my face. “I don’t want you to settle.”
He cannot be serious. He hasn’t been around forover a decadeand has never had a long-term relationship, but he wants to judge mine? A mix of confusion and anger boils inside me. It drives me crazy how easily he sees the truth after all of this time. How I can’t hide anything from him. How he might know me better than my own fiancé. What does that say about me?
“This from the guy who slept his way through the phone book,” I deflect, shooting daggers at him. Ihatehow well he reads me.
“That’s not what I’m saying. This isn’t about sex. You don’t know who else is out there.” He straightens his posture with eyes still laser-focused on me. “You chose the first guy who gave you any attention, and where is he now? Where has he been for the past few weeks? I sure as hell haven’t seen him. And you don’t talk to him very often, either.”
“That’s not fair. His career is important,” I reply defensively, wildly gesturing with my arms as if what Jake said was completely outlandish. I don’t even know why I’m defending Brian right now.
“Didn’t say it wasn’t. Doesn’t mean you’re not important. You should be the most important part of his life,” he says, balling his fists at his sides. “What do I know? I’m just fucking my way through—what did you call it?—the phone book.”
His words are a punch to my gut. I’m on the verge of exploding and might start dry heaving any second. I should be calm and measured. It’s how I was raised, but my anger wins out. “You don’t know him.Or me. It’s been fifteen years since you spoke to me. You waltz back in here like nothing has changed wheneverythingis different,” I yell, surprising myself with the firmness in my tone.
A wicked grin appears. “There she is. It’s about time you stood up for yourself.”
My eyes flare, and heat crawls up my neck. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Not a damn thing. There isn’t anything wrong with you either, Kate. Do you know that?”
His words send me reeling. My mind is spinning, not knowing what to think or how to respond. My chest feels like it’s been cracked open with all my insecurities on display. How is heable to do that after so long? It’s infuriating. I drop my head into my hands, letting out a soft sigh. I don’t know where we go from here. I don’t know what to say or how to respond to any of it. It’s so confusing.
He scoots closer until our knees are touching. “You know that, right? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to love you. You deserve the world. I hope that’s what you’ve found with Brian.” I lift my head and see a deep sincerity in his eyes. “I’m sorry you thought you weren’t worthy of love. You’ve always been more than worthy.”
Tears softly fall from my eyes, and he gently wipes them away. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I wanted to better understand how you felt about Brian since I’ve only seen a fraction of your relationship. I—” Both of his hands tug at his thick locks. He gazes at the bathroom ceiling for a few seconds and then lowers his head to stare directly into my eyes. “It destroys me that you felt unworthy of attention and love. And knowing I contributed to it by cutting you out of my life makes me hate myself. I want you to be happy. If Brian is what makes you happy, then I’ll be cheering the two of you on. I want to know you’re with someone who truly deserves you because you deserve the world.”
I nod, unable to say anything without confessing my uncertainty about marrying Brian. Sharing my insecurities with Chelsi was hard enough. Telling Jake might destroy me because I know exactly how he’d react. How much he’d push me to stand up for myself and demand to be treated better. Exactly what I know I need to do. What I’m planning to do when Brian comes into town for the party.
“Hopefully, I can meet Brian soon. Your mom acts like he walks on water. Perhaps an invite to the wedding for an old friend?” He stands, reaching for my hand and pulling me up alongside him until only a few inches separate us.
My body flushes. “Of course. Brian and I will want you there if your schedule allows.” I gulp quietly, looking up into his eyes.
“I’ll make sure it does. You’re important to me, Kate. I may not have shown you that in the past, but I’m going to prove it now.” He embraces me, squeezing tight. “You’ll always be important to me. I promise,” he whispers in my ear, his breath skittering down my neck, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my skin.
twenty-three
It’st-minus two days until my engagement party—the one my momswearsis handled and chastises me for asking any questions about it. I’ve chosen to believe she has somehow magically organized everything from the comfort of rehab. It will be a smashing success, or everyone is going to witness my mom have a major meltdown. Either way, it should be entertaining.
I’ll finally be in the same town as Brian. We’re in desperate need of a face-to-face discussion about the serious concerns I have about our relationship. I wish we could have this conversation before the engagement party, but his schedule has made it impossible to have more than a five-minute phone conversation. In my gut, I know this weekend will either be a new beginning for us or the end.
Just need to get through nonstop meetings for the next two days, then I can focus on getting my personal life back on track. I start to reply to an email when I’m startled by the doorbell ringing. I’m not expecting anyone to stop by, so I don’t bother moving from my spot until the doorbell rings incessantly.
I groan, getting up from the couch, not wanting to deal with another salesperson trying to convince me to spray the house forbugs or buy something in support of the latest school fundraiser. When did answering your door or phone become such a pain in the ass? Don’t get me started on the obscene amount of spam that winds up in my inbox. Trying to avoid unwanted sales outreach is like playing a never-ending game of whack-a-mole that you didn’t want to play in the first place.
I fling open the door, ready to shoot down the hopes of any salesperson standing on my front porch, when I see red. Red carnations. Multiple vases filled with fucking red carnations.
“Are you Kate Carpenter?” the deliveryman asks, carrying another vase of red carnations.
I nod, my mouth agape, unable to process what is happening.
“Whew. I was worried you weren’t going to be home, and I’d have to transport all of these back to the shop.”
