Jack
What could he want?
At my expression, Dany turns. Shawn waves her down.
“Daniella.” He’s out of breath and takes a second to compose himself. He pulls down the sleeves of his designer suit and straightens his tie. “Daniella, my word. Look at you. You look amazing.”
She tilts her head and smiles at him. Her soft smile, directed at him, hits me in the gut.
I have an overwhelming urge to take her away. Throw her over my shoulder and run. Not hear what he has to say.
Then it’s too late. He grabs her hands. She lets him.
“I’m so happy to see you. You look wonderful. You look amazing.” He looks like he’s about to pull Dany in for a hug.
“Hello, Shawn,” she says. Her voice is breathy.
I don’t like the way he’s looking at her. Like he’s starving and she’s an all-you-can-eat buffet. He squeezes her hands and they look into each other’s eyes.
Holy crap. They’ve forgotten I’m here.
I clear my throat.
Shawn’s nose narrows as he shoots a glare my way.
“Look, Daniella. May I speak with you privately for a moment?”
“No,” I say.
Dany frowns at me.
“Now?” she asks.
“Please. Only for a minute.”
She’s going to relent. I can tell.
“Okay. For a moment,” she says.
I don’t know why this makes me feel like hitting something. He was her fiancé. She needs to clear the air to move on. Let go of baggage. Tell pencil neck she doesn’t want to see him again.
She turns to me. “I’ll be right back.”
I close my mouth in a tight line. I tell myself that she may be walking away with him but she’s coming right back to me.
I watch as they have a short animated discussion a few doorways down. Shawn gestures widely. He looks unhappy and desperate. Dany shakes her head and steps back. Shawn grabs her hands. He gets down on his knees.
What the…?
Dany pulls him up. She’s shaking her head again.
Then she says something that settles him down.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
Finally, after a few minutes of heated conversation, Shawn gives Dany a kiss on her cheek.
My chest feels like it’s about to explode.
Shawn quickly walks away without looking back. Which is good, because at that kiss I really wanted to knock his head against the brick wall.
I give Dany a minute. She’s still leaning against the wall in the alcove. Finally, she heads back to me.
“Alright?” I ask.
She nods.
“Do you mind if we head back?” she says in a quiet voice. Her hands are trembling.
“No celebration? We were going to…” Then I can’t avoid it any longer. “What did he say?” I ask.
“He proposed. Again. He wants to marry me. In Hawaii. On the beach. In two weeks—”
I stop. There’s pounding in my ears. I don’t know if she’s still talking. She keeps walking. After five or six steps she realizes I’m not with her. She turns around.
“What?” she asks.
I shake my head.
She walks back to me, but she’s careful not to touch me. Dread fills me. She doesn’t get close enough to touch me. I reach out. She pulls back. The pounding in my ears gets louder.
“What did you say?” I ask. There’s a tight clenching in my chest.
“Nothing.” She won’t look me in the eye.
“You said nothing? It looked to me like you were saying a lot.” I realize my voice is getting louder.
“Well, you know…”
“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking. You told him no?” Please say you told him no.
She shakes her head. “No. Yes. No.”
“What is no, yes, no?” I don’t like the desperate feeling coursing through my veins. That countdown clock may have hit zero.
“I told him I need some time.”
“Are you kidding?” I burst out.
She looks stunned. “No. I need to think.”
“Why? He’s an ass. He dumped you after a mastectomy. Do you remember what he said to you? If not, I do. I can reiterate.”
Her face loses color. I’m immediately sorry I said it, but more than that I’m angry. And scared. Which makes me even more angry.
“You can’t possibly consider his offer,” I say. My throat is tight and hot. Please tell me you won’t consider his offer.
“Why?” she asks.
“What?”
“Why not? Tell me why not.” She’s pushing me. I can tell.
I shake my head. “Because he’s a jerk. Because you can’t be yourself with him. He doesn’t love you.”
She steps toward me. “And you do?”
I’m speechless at the question blazing in her eyes. Then what she asks sinks in.
This is it. She threw the challenge between us. I can pick it up. Tell her I do love her. That I knew I loved her the second I first saw her.
But I can’t. I don’t know how to say the words. Get them past the fear.
“Do you?” she asks again, in a small voice.
The words are screaming in my chest, but I stay silent.
What if I tell her I love her and then she dies? What if she says…you did this, your love is suffering? What if she leaves? What if…
She steps forward. “What if I told you that I want to have kids? That someday I want to get married and have a big, huge family. I want to be surrounded by love. That all that is on my list. What would you say?”
She reaches out a hand. The question hangs in the air. Will you do this with me?
But the minute she mentioned kids, family, love, everything in me shuts down. I can only see all the families that died, the kids and babies and moms that burned, all of them lost.
I look down at my clenched hands. It’s funny, when you tell someone the truth about yourself, they can use it against you. Did she know what mentioning family would do to me? Is that what opening up about my past comes down to?
“I don’t do families. It’s not on my list,” I say.
The chasm I sensed before widens. She drops her hand.
“Even if it’s with me?” she asks.
“I can’t,” I say.
“But why?”
The lump in my throat falls down into my chest. It burns an angry, hurting heat. Why is she pushing this?
“I see what this is,” I say. I feel like the devil is pushing me forward. Hurt, it says, hurt. “You know you’ll be better soon. All this will be in the past. You can forget about me. About the new you. You can go back to your nice cushy life. Like you always wanted. I was the rebound. I should’ve listened the first time you told me you didn’t want a rebound relationship. Stupid me for not taking you seriously. Congratulations, you get to finish your list. Number ten, have a beach wedding. Check.”
She doesn’t contradict me. She doesn’t say anything at all. She looks at me with a pale, sad face. The distance between us widens and I don’t think I can do anything to stop it.
Then, because I’m a sucker for punishment and there’s a cold misery spreading through me, I plead, “Don’t consider his offer. Don’t run from the life you’re making. Don’t.”
“Why? Tell me why,” she says.
She wants to hear me say I love her. She wants me to tell her that I’ll marry her on the beach, that I’ll give her a family. And I want to. I want to tell her. But I can’t.
“Dany…” I shake my head. There’s burning in the back of my eyes. “Can’t we keep on like we are? Having fun. No complications? What’s wrong with keeping things as they are?”
She sighs, a weary defeated sound. “I’m tired. I want to go rest,” she says.
I stay quiet. Hoping this isn’t the end.
She waits. Her expression growing more distant.
“Alright,” I say. “Okay.”
As we walk back to the truck, our steps heavy, she says in a small voice, “It’s funny, you saying you don’t do families.”
“Why?” I ask, even though I don’t want to know.
She shrugs. “Because you already have a family. One that loves you.”
Sissy. I lower my head. Stare at the ground. Shame, that’s what I feel. I haven’t done right by Sissy either. I keep pushing her away.
We walk back to the truck in painful silence.
From the way Dany sits, and the expression on her face, I know we’re done. It’s all over.
When we get back to the house, she goes upstairs and shuts her door. I don’t stop her.