by J. S. Cooper
"I'm not the sort of guy you should fall in love with." His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. I didn’t understand why he was telling me this now. We’d just had a great lunch. We’d been having a great week. Well, kind of. It wasn’t everything I’d hoped it would be. It still felt slightly awkward.
"I gathered that already, trust me."
"Oh, really?" He paused, his face stilling as he gazed into my eyes intently. "How did you gather that?"
"What do you care?" I shrugged and looked away from him. His blue eyes were making my heart race too erratically and I could feel my body growing warm.
"I was just curious." He stepped closer to me and I could feel his body heat bouncing off of me. And it made me just want to have the ground swallow up and die. Or touch him. I just wanted to reach out to touch him. I wanted him to grab me, pull me into his arms and tell me that he was just joking. I wanted him to tell me he loved me. I wanted him to tell me that he was just joking and that he hoped I was falling in love with him as well. I wanted him to tell me that from the first moment he’d met me, he’d known I was the one. I wanted the fairytale and I didn’t even know why I wanted that. Or why I thought he could give it to me. I didn’t know why I cared so much. Didn’t know why I’d let myself fall in love with a man who was everything I shouldn’t want in a man. What had he shown me or done for me that made me think he could be the keeper of my heart? I was a dumbass. A real dumbass. And it made me hate myself. Really, really hate myself.
"Curiosity killed the cat," I said, stopping myself from moving back and away from him. I didn't want to let him see how much he affected me. How much he made me want to retreat. How much he was hurting my feelings right now. I didn’t want him to see how badly I wanted to cry.
"I just want to make sure you don't fall too hard for me," he said, staring at my lips, and I swallowed. Please don’t cry, Jess, please don’t cry. That’s all I could think to myself. Please don’t cry.
"My concern is that you don't fall too hard for me," I said so quietly that it was almost a whisper. Why can’t you feel the same thing for me that I feel for you? How was it possible for me to feel so much so quickly, and for him to seemingly feel nothing? How was it possible for me to feel such a connection? I didn’t understand how he could stare into my eyes and into my soul and yet not feel the same pangs of love and adoration that I felt. How was it possible for him to be in my mind all the time? How was it possible for me to want to spend every second with him? How was it possible that he never wanted to spend that much time with me?
"Oh?" He frowned.
"Yeah, I don't want you to fall in love with me," I lied. "I don't want you to get hurt." I want you to be as hurt as I am right now. I want you to feel the pain in your soul that I feel in mine. I knew that was wrong of me. But I just wanted him to feel. I just wanted him to know that he was putting me through hell. And I didn’t even know that he knew what that felt like. I didn’t even know if he knew what it felt like to think of someone all the time. A part of me felt like I was possessed by thoughts of him. A part of me felt like he was a part of my body. A part of me felt like he was in my soul in my mind. And I hated it. I hated feeling like he was all I could think about. I hated thinking I would never get him out of my system. Because he was a part of my soul and body, and just being around him made me feel happy. Just being around him made me feel like everything was going to be right in the world. He made me think everything in life was going to be fine. No matter how sad or upset I was. No matter how badly my day had gone. Just seeing his smile made me feel like everything was great. I saw birds in the sky, I saw butterflies flying. I saw the sun shining on grey days. Everything was good. And when he wasn’t around, I felt deep, dark, soulless. And I cried. I cried so many tears that I thought I was going to die. And I knew it didn’t make sense. I knew it didn’t make sense that not being with him made me feel such withdrawal. And it pained me to think of a day when I wouldn’t be with him. We weren’t an official couple. And he had never told me he liked me a lot or loved me or that he wanted anything from me. We’d never mentioned being a couple. Here I was dreaming of a day when we would be together forever, and here he was telling me not to get too close to him. It was killing me inside. Literally killing me and I had no idea what to do. I had no idea how to feel and I was scared I never would be able to get over him. And I had no one to talk to about it. No one who would understand just how much I loved him. How could I love a man so much who had never given me anything? How could I love a man who didn’t want me as I wanted him? I just didn’t understand it.
"Hurt?" He licked his lips slowly and I could tell he was taken aback by my words.
"Yeah, when you realize you can't live without me." I paused. "I'd hate to break your heart when I walk away." Which was a lie. I did want to break his heart. I wanted him to realize I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. I wanted him to know I’d had to walk away because he had made me. I wanted him to regret everything. I wanted him to wish he’d never had this conversation with me. How could he bring up these words to me? How could he hurt me like this and look so nonchalant as he did it? How could he look at other women? How could he talk to other women? How could he flirt with other women? With me there? Was he trying to hurt me? Did he not care about my feelings? I just didn’t understand why I wasn’t enough. I didn’t understand what I had to do. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t feel the same way as me. I’d recently started praying again. I’d started praying that he’d wake up one day and realize he was being a fool. I prayed with everything in my power that he could just love me as much as I loved him. And some days, some days, when his eyes lit up when he saw me, I really thought he felt the same way. I really thought today was going to be the day. I really thought that somehow it had clicked in him. How could he not feel what we had between us was real? How could he not know? I stood there in front of him and I felt like I just wanted to fall onto the ground and cry. I wanted to grab his legs. I wanted to hold him so he couldn’t go away. I wanted to tell him, to beg him, to please love me. To ask him why he didn’t. I knew it was pitiful. I knew I was pitiful. I knew everything I was feeling inside made me a loser. And I hated that about myself. Because I knew what Alyssa had said was right: he didn’t care about me, not in that way. He never was going to care about me in that way. And all I had was more heartache coming. With every day that I had hope, all I was doing was letting more heartache in, letting more pain in.
"Walk away?" His fingers touched my chin and pushed my face up so that I was staring into his eyes again. "Why would you walk away?" His face looked uncertain, not as confident and arrogant as before, and my stomach flipped as I gazed into his eyes, my face hot and nerves whirling in my stomach.
"Why do you think?" I licked my lips nervously. Please tell me you love me. Please tell me you don’t want me to walk away. Please. Please. If there is a God. If there is a God, he will love me. He will tell me now. He will profess his love to me and everything will be okay. We will be okay. I will be okay. I will laugh about this. About everything. It will be a story to tell our kids. It will have been worth it. It would all have been worth it.
"Because you love me too much?" He almost grunted, and I started laughing. Not because I thought he was funny or because I thought it was funny, but because it was so close to the truth and I didn't want him to know. I didn't want him to know that this conversation was already too late. I didn't want him to know that I loved him. I didn't want him to know I already knew that whenever whatever we had was ended I was going to be heartbroken. He couldn't know. I was too proud for that. I started laughing so that I wouldn’t start crying. Because I knew if I started crying, it would be all over and he would think I was a psychopath. Or just crazy in the head. Which I was already starting to think was true.
"That's funny." I shook my head and smiled widely, pretending a nonchalance I didn't feel. "We don't need to come to an understanding because there is no worry about me falling for you and expec
ting too much." I reached over and touched his chest. "If anyone should be worried, it's you. Because when I walk away, you're going to realize that I was the best thing you ever had." He grabbed my hand and held it to his chest for a few seconds and then sighed lightly.
"Don't play with fire, Jess." He leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "One of us is going to get burned and it sure as hell isn't going to be me."
"It's not going to be me, either," I said emphatically as I pulled away from him and looked into his eyes. "I'm not going to fall in love with you."
"Good," he said as he stared at me and everything in his face told me that he didn't really feel that way. Everything in his face told me that he was hurt and that just confused me even more. It confused me because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how I was going to continue like this. If he was my Mr. Right, it shouldn’t be this hard. Should it?
* * *
“So Alyssa won’t be back for a few days,” I said as we sat on the couch in my living room. “You can stay over if you want.”
“Thanks,” he said, not looking up from his phone. I sat next to him, willing myself to not look down at his phone. I didn’t want to be nosey and I didn’t want to make myself upset, but he had been texting for the last hour with someone and barely looking at me, and it was driving me crazy.
“So are you going to stay over?” I asked feebly. “I thought maybe we could go to this cool brunch place in the morning. This place called ‘Mama’s on Washington’.”
“Eh, don’t think I can stay over.” He looked up at me and shrugged. “But thanks.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, feeling disappointed, and I glanced down at his phone screen. My heart dropped as I saw a photo on the screen of some beautiful woman and a bunch of texts back and forth between the two of them. I tried to look away from the screen, but I couldn’t stop myself from reading his last message to her. “Beautiful photo, thanks for sharing.” My heart sank. And I could feel the stirrings of jealousy in my soul. I looked away from the phone, wanting to make a comment to him but not knowing what to say. What could I say? Did I have a right to say anything? I looked back down at the screen and read some of the other messages. “Busy tonight, but maybe tomorrow?” Was the message before the photo? “Maybe this will make you change your mind,” was the message that accompanied the photo she’d sent him. I tried not to stare at her face and her body. She was young and beautiful. Really, really beautiful. I couldn’t stop myself from staring. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling inadequate. Maybe this was why he didn’t love me. I wasn’t pretty enough. I wasn’t enough. I was never going to be enough. No matter what I did. No matter what I said. It was obvious to me in that moment that nothing was going to change. Ever. He wasn’t going to wake up and tell himself he was in love with me. That was never going to happen. It wasn’t suddenly going to hit him, like it did in the movies. The movies weren’t reality. He just wasn’t that into me. He didn’t care. He didn’t care at all. He didn’t love me. He never would. He’d been sitting here with me, laughing and texting back and forth with some hot girl. Basically flaunting it in my face. Like he didn’t care at all. He didn’t care if I saw. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. Maybe he wanted to make it clear to me that I knew he didn’t care. He wanted to make sure I didn’t fall in love with him. He wanted to make sure I knew he could do better and he was and that I meant nothing to him. I sat back in the couch and closed my eyes, trying to breathe deeply and not cry. All I could see was the girl’s face in my mind. All I could think about was them kissing. Him touching her. Him wanting her. Him thinking about her. Him staring at her in wonder. Him telling her he loved her. Him thinking she was everything. Him just thinking she was everything I wasn’t. Because obviously she was everything I wasn’t. She was the one he wanted. She was the one he cared about. And why wouldn’t he? She was gorgeous. She looked sexy as hell. I bet she didn’t have any insecurities. I mean, any girl who could send a photo like that of herself didn’t have any insecurities. She was everything a man could want. Unlike me.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Evan touched me lightly on the shoulder and I looked over at him.
“Nothing, why?”
“You went quiet.” His eyes looked down at my face and he looked concerned.
“I’m fine.” I shrugged. “I didn’t have much to say. You were busy texting.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay over tonight. I have things to do.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Sorry, I’m a busy guy.” He looked annoyed. “I can’t be with you all the time.”
“I don’t expect you to be with me all the time. I barely see you.”
“I see you a lot. I probably see you more than I see most other people.”
“Cool,” I said and looked away from him.
“I told you not to get too invested in me, Jess.” He sighed. “I give you as much as I can.”
“I know and I’m not.” I jumped up off of the couch. “Do you want a drink? I’m going to the kitchen now.”
“No, I’m good.” He shook his head and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked out of the room.
I tried not to cry as I reached the kitchen. I tried not to break down. It was my own fault that I was hurt. It wasn’t like we’d had a great start. I’d never thought he was some great guy. I should have known that everything was going to be complicated. I mean, yes, it had been fun for a bit, but really what did that mean? I should have known nothing fun and exciting lasts for long. I mean, why would it? This is life and my life has never gone smoothly. And it’s not Evan’s fault I had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker. It wasn’t his fault he was all I could think about. It wasn’t his fault I now noticed all of the women that he hit on every time we were out. It was like bloody clockwork. Every time a girl walked by, his eyes would rush to them so he could check them out. Every single time. It didn’t matter what the girl looked like, but the prettier they were the longer his eyes would remain on them, and then he would look back at me like it was nothing, like he wasn’t ripping my heart. Like I wasn’t jealous of every single girl that he checked out. I pretended it didn’t make me feel inferior. I pretended jealousy didn’t strike through my heart every single time. It was my own fault. I deserved to be jealous and upset and insecure after what I’d done. I’d slept with my boyfriend’s dad. I mean, it wasn’t like I’d known at the time. It wasn’t like I’d known anything. But that didn’t excuse it. Because I had thought that Evan was Pierce’s friend and so even if I hadn’t known their exact relationship, I did know they knew each other. And even if they hadn’t known each other, it still would have been shady. I mean technically I cheated on my boyfriend, even though I’d never personally cared for Pierce in that way and hadn’t really considered him my boyfriend. I mean technically that didn’t count because I’d never alerted Pierce to that fact. And now here I was, scorned by Pierce and dating a man who drove me crazy and I couldn’t even say anything because I didn’t want him to think I was crazy. He hadn’t promised me anything. In fact our whole dynamic had been built upon a dangerous flirtation. Maybe he wasn’t even interested now that he had me and that danger was gone. Though it surprised me that he’d been willing to go through all of this just for some sex. I mean, I’d been his son’s girlfriend. In reality he was really the shady one. Though in reality he was the one I wanted. Badly. I think I know the exact moment I lost the upper hand in the relationship. I know the exact moment I realized that perhaps I wasn’t going to have a fairytale ending. It was really a simple thing. It shouldn’t have meant anything, but it did. It was when I saw him using a new handkerchief. I’d noticed that he’d been using the one he’d taken from me in our first meeting consistently. Every single time I saw him, he had that handkerchief. It symbolized something to me, made me think that perhaps I was someone special. And then, then one day I noticed him using a different handkerchief, one that had his initials monogrammed in navy blue in the corners. And when I saw that, my heart dropped. It
dropped into my stomach and I knew then that I was much more invested in this whole thing than he was. I knew then that he meant something really special to me. Who knew that a handkerchief could make me feel so much? It was so hard for me to understand why he had stopped using the handkerchief I’d given him. But now I realized that it hadn’t meant anything in the first place. Much like everything else. I had built it all up in my head. All in my head. And now I was driving myself crazy. Because I was crazy. I was an idiot. And now I was paying the price.
* * *
“Thanks for making dinner. It’s delicious.” Evan’s face looked relaxed as he ate the lasagna I’d made. I wondered if he’s just counting down the hours until he can leave and go and be with the other woman. I wanted to ask him why he’s here. What he wants from me. Why he’s playing me. But I don’t.
“Glad you like it.”
“It’s great. Maybe one of the best lasagna’s I’ve ever had.”
“That sounds like a lie.” I laughed, though the comment warmed me. I wish now that the saying about food being the way to a man’s heart was true.
“Would I lie?” He says as he stuffs another forkful into his mouth. “Actually don’t answer that.” I stare at for a few seconds wanting to ask him what he wants from me. And what he wants me to say? What does he want from us spending time together? But I don’t. I’m scared of the answer. I’m scared that it’ll confirm to me that I should walk away. And I’m scared because I don’t think that I can.
“What no answer?” he said and then I watched as he put his fork down on his plate and cleared his throat. I stared at him, with my eyes burning into his. My stomach started to do flip-flops and I could feel myself growing cold. Colder than I’d ever been before in my life. There’s a cold before the heat. There’s a heat before the burning. And then it all goes cold again. My body changes temperatures and I feel numb. He’s sitting across the table from me and all I can think about is the fact that he doesn’t love me like I love him. In fact, he doesn’t care at all. I know he doesn’t care. I know he will never care. I know that my heart is destined to remain broken forever and I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how I’ll ever get over this feeling. I don’t feel like there will ever be a brighter day. I feel as if I’m going to be forever broken and I don’t know how to get over it. He’s the love of my life. When I look into his eyes, I feel at home, I feel a sense of kinship. I feel something that I’ve never felt before. Yet, somehow he doesn’t seem to feel it. He doesn’t get it. Or me. He will never get me or love me the way I love him and that makes me doubt absolutely everything about myself. There are days I wake up and I just want to die. There are days that I feel I will never be able to live the life I want if he can’t reciprocate my feelings. I just don’t understand why he doesn’t. It doesn’t make sense to me. He’s all I’ve ever prayed for. He’s all I’ve ever wanted, and yet, it’s not enough. I’m not enough. Sitting across the table from him, pretending that I’m okay, is killer. It makes me want to cry. It makes me want to shed so many tears. It makes me want to beg him, plead with him, grab him. I just want to know why? I just want to understand. I know the only way I’m going to get over this and him is to cut him out of my life completely. I know the only way my heart will heal will be if I never see him again. I can’t see him. I can’t touch him. I can’t smell him. I can’t talk to him. It’s all too much. It’s too hard. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to survive without him in my life, but I don’t know if I can keep on living like this, with him dictating every emotion in my body.