Chapter Twenty-Eight
I wasn’t sure how I managed to make it through the rest of the evening with Mason. I returned to the table after my discussion with Linc, choking back tears and suffering from a throat so tight I couldn’t swallow, and told him I was sorry but I needed to go home.
He obviously didn’t understand the direness of the situation, because he took the time to ask for our food to be boxed up. When we returned to my loft, he’d asked if he could come inside to eat, and I’d said, “Of course.” Because that’s what you say.
I sort of floated through the rest of the evening on autopilot as he ate the crab fritters and talked about D.C. It was one of those nights that seemed like a dream you couldn’t quite break free of. Fuzzy at the edges, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t make myself do what I really wanted to do.
I think I nodded at the right places.
Pretty sure I even ate a crab fritter, despite the giant lump lodged in my throat that refused to loosen or go away. Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and told him that I’d had a long day and that we’d need to catch up more tomorrow.
But as I stared at his “Lunch?” text, I didn’t feel any better.
When Abigail called and asked if I could meet, gratitude filled me. It gave me an excuse to put off Mason. Surely after another day or two I wouldn’t feel like I was going to burst into tears at any moment, right?
After arranging to meet Abigail at the nasty coffee shop, I pulled my hair into a bun and, after a good five minutes of going back and forth, decided to exchange my yoga pants for jeans. I wouldn’t fall into old patterns. No going back to where I was before Linc reentered my life.
If I didn’t have my program and the knowledge that good guys were out there, I might’ve given up men altogether. On cue, one of my quotes popped into my head, this one from Winston Churchill. Success is going from failure to failure without losing enthusiasm.
I kind of wanted to punch it in the face.
I stopped in front of the mirror over my dresser. Sleep stayed out of my reach last night, and my puffy eyes showed it. I did a quick swipe of eyeliner and mascara, slicked on lip gloss, and then squared off in front of my reflection.
Other snippets from my steps ran through my head, rapid-fire style, like they were all hopped up on the caffeine I hadn’t had yet.
Take charge of your own life.
Decide what you want to be.
Find hope.
Get what you really want.
Believe.
Open your heart.
I tried to hold those thoughts in, but suddenly Linc’s face flashed through my mind.
Shit, shit, shit. Everything he’d confessed rose up again, and I plugged my ears and hummed to keep it out. I couldn’t do it. If I let myself think about him, I’d slip again, and I’d already slipped way too far.
“I want a relationship that’ll go the distance.” The advice I’d given over the years would point to giving Mason another chance. Maybe he didn’t have a great sense of humor like Linc, but he had the other qualities that I needed in a partner. He was ready for me to move in with him. He had real Mr. Right potential.
I reached for my earring, like I needed rescuing from the conversation I was having with myself. Only Ivy wasn’t in view. And I couldn’t call Linc anymore.
The darkness whispered to me, telling me to let go and let it pull me under. But the thought of Abigail waiting for me brought me back and held my head just above the surface.
Now was no time to make a decision about Mason.
But eventually, I was going to have to figure out what to do.
…
“He invited me to go with him to his coworker’s birthday party,” Abigail said the second I stepped up to her table. She never did start with the typical hello, and she always assumed I knew who she was talking about. At least this time, I did.
To ensure we were 100 percent clear, though, I laid it out. “Reid invited you to his coworker’s birthday party?”
Abigail nodded and pushed her glasses up her nose.
I sat on the chair across from her, frowning when it was harder than I expected. “First off, that’s a great sign. He wants you to meet his friends.” It was especially important after the last guy treated her like his dirty little secret.
She nodded again and then bit at her thumbnail. “But, like, I just got comfortable talking to him. Add other people to the mix, and what if I say something stupid? What if I spill drinks all over myself? Or over his friends? What if they tell him he should dump me? Oh, and he would have to dump me. He asked me to be his girlfriend last Saturday.”
“Abigail! You have a boyfriend that you’re crazy about. Let’s just take a moment to celebrate.”
A smile spread across her face, chasing away the worry that’d been there a moment ago, and it buoyed my mood, too. I took a sip of the latte I’d ordered—I’d hoped adding milk would make it better, but seriously, who would pay for this sludge?
Besides me, of course. But I had my reasons. Maybe every person here was avoiding their usual coffee shops. Guess I should pass out my card and tell them I could help, even if I couldn’t follow my own advice.
My spirits sank and I told them to knock it off—we had a job to focus on.
Abigail took a sip from her coffee cup and wrinkled her nose. “Why aren’t we meeting at the Daily Grind?”
“Just thought I’d change it up. Might have to change it up again.” Like maybe by moving to D.C. Yes, I’d miss my family and Ivy, and my clients here, but women in D.C. needed help, too. I’d leave Atlanta with a list of where to meet singles—
A fresh wave of pain slammed into me. Why had I thought making a list with Linc was a good idea? Now everything on it—and even the list itself—reminded me of him.
Another point for moving to D.C.?
But then I heard Linc’s voice in my head. He’ll ask you to give up what you love because he thinks his job is more important than what you do, and he won’t even realize that you’re not truly happy being nothing more than his accessory.
Mason hadn’t thought twice about what moving would do to the program I’d worked so hard to build here.
That just means he has faith I can do the same in D.C., I told myself, but something about it didn’t ring true.
I gave Abigail a few tips for surviving party scenes and meeting friends of your boyfriend. “You’ll do great. I know you’ve been hurt before, but Reid is clearly crazy about you. Now that you’ve taken charge of your own life and learned the difference between a jerk and a guy who’s in it for more than a hook up, let those walls down, open your heart, and don’t be afraid to fully love.
“Don’t mention love or anything like that quite yet,” I quickly added, because a declaration of that too early was also a don’t. “But enjoy this fun beginning part. I honestly think you’re ready. If you need me, don’t hesitate to call, and I definitely want to hear how that party goes, but my work here is done. Now just trust yourself and your heart.”
Abigail thanked me, hugged me good-bye, and then she practically skipped out of the store, her head up in the clouds where it should be. Because she’d found a guy who cared about her, who showed signs of being her Mr. Right.
That hypocritical guilt came for me as I walked home, tapping me on the shoulder and asking how I could tell other people to trust their heart when I wouldn’t even let mine speak.
But mine wasn’t trustworthy anymore. It was broken.
As if to prove it, sorrow radiated from my heart and flooded my body. Crippling doubt came on its heels, along with the heartbreak punishment for straying from my rules in the first place. Stepping out of line had left me vulnerable again, and I had no one to blame but myself.
The darkness whispered to me once more, and I knew I should fight it, but I was so damn tired of pretending to be okay.
So I let go and let it tug me under.