I don’t need him adding to my concerns and self-doubt when it comes to my relationship with Lizzy. I’m doing everything I can to show her I’m committed to her—to prove I’m all in, but it seems as if she has one leg on the floor ready to run. I know she feels the need to be cautious after what she went through with losing Xander—I can’t even imagine how awful that must have been for her—but there’s a part of me that worries I’m the real reason she’s holding back.
When she acted weird last week about including me in her vacation plans, I tried to brush it off. Even though I wanted to believe her hesitation was solely driven by her anxiety of losing someone else she loves, it felt personal—like she’s still thinking in terms of “them” and “me” instead of “we”.
Perhaps I’m just seeing it that way because of my deep seeded fear of rejection—thanks for that Mom and Dad—but I haven’t been able to shake this dread knotted in my gut. I can’t get rid of these thoughts that she may never see us as a family. Which, like love, I didn’t even know I wanted until I got a taste of it. But I love Lizzy and her kids. I want very much for the four of us to be a collective—a “we”.
“You can shoot the messenger if you want, but think about it. She’s already chosen her forever. She’s already done the wedding, the house, and the kids, Brenden. You’ve told me yourself she’s called him the love her of life. So, yes, I think you’re living in an ignorant bliss, and that can’t last forever.”
Rage consumes me as I fight my instinct to slug him for causing this horrid pain in my chest. I pour myself another shot and down it, hating him for saying those things to me, and hating myself for believing them. “Glad we could talk,” I hiss, slamming the shot glass down on the counter so hard, I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter.
“Fuck!” Jon shouts as I begin to walk away, “I’m only trying to save you some heartache down the road.”
I scoff as I make my way up the stairs. It is too late for that. There’s no saving me now. Lizzy is it for me. I’ll never love anyone the way I love her. I’m just not sure she’ll ever love me the way she loves Xander.
Nothing Less
“Was Xander the first guy you ever slept with?” Brenden asks, jerking me right out of my post-coital bliss.
He’s been acting so strangely this past week. I’ve asked him a couple times if anything is wrong, but he’s adamant everything is fine. Something is bothering him, though. He hasn’t been his normal playful, goofy self.
He’s also been asking more questions about Xander. They seem casual enough—how did you meet? How long did you date?—but I can tell there’s something hidden behind his questions, like he’s searching for something in every answer.
“Yes,” I caution, turning my head so I can see him. His sad sigh makes my stomach knot. Why is he dwelling on my past with Xander now? It’s not as if he just found out about him.
Today, I even caught him staring at pictures of Xander and I in the hallway. He was so focused on them, he hadn’t even heard me approaching. The expression on his face seemed sad and almost pained. Surely he knows pictures and other mementoes of Xander around the house aren’t for me. They’re for my children.
Until now, I’ve never felt the need to hide my life with or love for Xander from Brenden. I thought he understood and accepted that a part of me would always love Xander—he was my first love, my husband, and the father of my children.
“What’s going through that gorgeous head of yours?” I ask, rolling over on my side to face him as I bring my hand up to his chest and begin to trace over his tattoo with my finger.
“I was just thinking about our future.” His tone is flat and a little bitter, his eyes focused on the ceiling as he answers me.
“Why would you be doing a thing like that?” I tease, moving to straddle him and forcing him to look at me. “I thought you were all about the here and now.” Grinding my hips, I lean down and kiss him, pulling back as he begins to deepen it. “I’m thinking the here and now is pretty damn incredible personally,” I purr, my lips curling as his gaze becomes fiery.
“Indeed, it is.” He quickly flips me so I’m on my back again before positioning himself over me, that mischievous smile I love so much back on his face. “That’s why I want to ensure moments like this are a part of my life forever,” he says, his voice husky as he leans down and nibbles at my neck again.
I know I should be focusing on what he’s saying rather than what he’s doing, but my mind is becoming hazy with my desire for him. Stopping, he lifts his head and meets my eyes, his features drawing together. “That’s what you want too, right?”
“What?” I ask, feeling like I missed something big as I shake my head to clear it.
“This. Do you want this—no, do you want me forever?”
The vulnerability in his eyes causes my heart to clench as icy panic courses through my veins. Suddenly, his beautiful naked body touching mine is the last thing I’m thinking about.
“What are you asking me, Brenden?” I ask, panic causing my words to be strained.
“Come on, Lizzy. Don’t do that,” he sneers, rolling back over to the other side of the bed.
I pull the covers over me and sit up. “Do what?”
“That!” he shouts, throwing his hands up as he too sits up, scooting to the edge and turning his back to me. “You always act like you don’t understand what I’m talking about when you’re trying to buy some time to figure out what you want to say.”
My heart sinks as he gets off the bed and walks over to the dresser where his clothes are laying.
“Where are you going? Why are you mad at me? I don’t understand what this is all about.”
My desperation and sorrow grows with each piece of clothing he puts on. Even though he’s still in the room, it somehow feels as if he’s miles away.
He shoulders slump as he hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s about me wanting you to be my forever and you already choosing someone else for that.”
“What?” I gasp, my entire body shaking as tears begin to fall down my face.
So many emotions hit me at once and my head spins—confusion, fear, and even utter happiness. Brenden just said he wants me to be his forever.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he clips out, his voice tight as he runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. “No, I’ll never be enough for you. I’ll never be your forever because I’m not him.”
When I see him brushing away his own tears, I jump off the bed, grabbing my robe from the chair and throwing it on before rushing toward him. “What! Brenden, no—”
“Don’t!” His voice booms so loudly, I jump back and then remain frozen as my heart pounds. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “If you come near me, I’ll want to touch you, and if I so much as look at you right now, I’ll never be able to do this.”
“Then don’t,” I plead, taking another timid step toward him. “Please, don’t do this.”
“I have to do this, Lizzy. I’m sorry,” he replies, his body rigid and words terse.
“No!” I protest, shaking my hand as my panic and sorrow begins to morph into anger. He couldn’t do this to me, not now, not after everything we’ve gone through to get here. “No, you don’t have to do this, Brenden. So, why? Why are you doing this? I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
He sighs. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m in the wrong, Lizzy—I did this. You’ve been telling me since we met Xander was the love of your life, but I guess I just thought I could love you enough to make up the difference.”
His words leave me speechless for a moment as I watch him slide his shoes on. That’s true. I did consider Xander the love of my life, but that doesn’t take away from how I feel about Brenden.
“I love you, Brenden. You have to know that by now.” My arm stretches out, as if to touch him, even though he’s still too far away, and he takes another step toward the door when I try to inch closer.
“I do
,” he acknowledges, taking a deep breath, “but I don’t think it’s possible for you to love me the way I love you. You’re the love of my life, Lizzy, and he’s yours.” He pauses when his voice cracks, and the ripple of pain in my chest is so great, I instinctively place my hand there. “You married him, had kids with him, and planned your life with him. I want you to be my everything, but there isn’t anything I can give you in return that he hasn’t already given you. I thought I could handle knowing a part of you would always belong to him—that having a part of you was better than not having you at all—but I can’t do it, Lizzy. It’s tearing me up inside. I want all of you and nothing less.”
“That’s not fair,” I cry out, tears streaming down my face again. My stomach drops as I realize I can’t fix this and I’m going to lose him. “You knew about Xander from the start, how can you be upset with me for loving him now? I can’t change my past, Brenden, and I wouldn’t want to if I could.”
He places his hand on the wall next to the bedroom door and leans there, as if using it for support. “I know,” he breathes, “that’s my point. Please try to understand this isn’t about me being angry with you—I’m not trying to punish you. I just can’t do this knowing I’m always going to want more from you than you can give me—knowing you’re never going to love me the way you loved him.”
It feels as if the wind is knocked out of me as he reaches for the doorknob and opens the door. My knees weak and head spinning, I sit back down on the bed as he steps into the doorway before finally turning to face me. His eyes are red, his face screwed up with pain, and I want to go to him so badly. I want to stop him—to find the words that will convince him I love him and that we can make this work. But he’s not asking for my love. He wants the love I have for Xander. He’s right. I can’t give him that.
Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath and turns his back to me again. As if being pulling by a force, I shoot to my feet again as he steps out of the room. When he begins to walk away, my movements almost seem to mimic his—like we are tethered to one another. He pauses briefly just a few feet away from my bedroom door and I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t find the words.
I don’t know how to explain that though my love for Brenden may be different than the love I had for Xander, the amount is no more or less.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Brenden lets out a harsh breath. Dropping his hand, he shakes his head as if arguing internally with himself, and I hold my breath, hoping whichever side is telling him to stay wins.
But when he begins to move again, it’s toward the front door—his strides so large and quick, he’s out of sight in a blink of an eye. I’m positive I hear the thread that had been connecting us moments before snap as he closes my front door. After my knees hit the floor and I begin to sob, I realize what I heard was my heart ripping in two.
Walking away from Brenden was hard, but I ultimately believed at the time the ache in my chest was for a good reason—like protecting myself from a moment like this. The pain I feel having Brenden walk out of my life is so much greater because it all seems pointless.
Idiot
“You’re an idiot,” Allison scoffs, rolling her eyes.
She was sitting in the living room when I got home, bottle of jack in my hand and eyes bloodshot, demanding to know what happened. Surprisingly, I was happy to have someone to talk to about what happened with Lizzy. Walking away from her a few hours ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. As I drove away, it felt as if I was being torn in two, and in a way, I had been. My physical body was leaving, but my heart and soul remained there with her.
“Gee, thanks, sis,” I sneer, laying my head back on the couch. “It’s good to know you’re here for me.”
She’s right, though. I’m an idiot. I just walked away from the only woman I’ve ever loved—from the only real and healthy relationship I’ve ever had. Maybe I’m asking for too much by wanting it all. Maybe I’m being selfish and gluttonous. Before Lizzy, I never wanted any part of love. Now that I’ve experience it, though, I want someone’s complete love.
“Well, I’m just keeping it real,” she huffs. “What in the world brought all this on? I thought everything was going great.”
“I did too.” Lifting my head again to look at her, I run my hands through my hair. “Until Jon got in my head.”
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she groans, shaking her head. “Please tell me you didn’t just break things off with Lizzy because of something Jon said. He’s the biggest moron of all. You should know better than to listen to him.”
I tried to ignore the things he said, but they seeped into my subconscious, taunting all my insecurities, and I began to see everything differently. The pictures of Lizzy with Xander were no longer memories; they were a reminder of the things I’d never have with her. When she talked about him and the life they had, I no longer felt privileged that she was sharing that part of her life with me because her love for him had become hard to witness.
“I know,” I admit, rubbing my hands over my face, “but Jon was right. I will never mean to Lizzy what she means to me. She’s the only person I’ve ever loved, and I love her so much, it fucking hurts. How am I supposed to settle for anything less in return?”
Groaning, she crosses her arms. “Did she say she loves you less?”
“No, not exactly.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I try to recall her exact words to me. She tried to assure me that she loves me, but she never disputed what I was saying, and she didn’t try to stop me from leaving, so I’m pretty sure she knows I’m right. “She didn’t need to. She already chose him—she married him and had kids with him. He was even the first guy she slept with, for Christ’s sake. How can I ever compete with that?”
“Why do men make everything into a fucking competition? It’s not a damn competition!” she hisses, raising her voice as she waves her hands in the air. “Yes, she had those things with him, but it doesn’t mean she can’t have something great with you. Her love for you isn’t less or more, just different.”
I want to believe that, but it’s hard not to feel envious of what he had with her. It’s absurd and a little screwed up to be jealous of her deceased husband, but she shared so much with him—things she can never share with me.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure I can deal with the fact that he is the love of her life because she’s the love of mine.”
“Trust me, Lizzy loves you. I saw it in her eyes the day she came here frantically looking for you after Jon’s party, and I heard the truth behind her words when she told me herself that she loves you.”
“Wait,” I rasp, sitting up straight and scooting to the end of the couch, “you talked to Lizzy before she showed up here with her tattoo?” This is news to me. Neither of them mentioned that, but it certainly helps explain Allison’s friendlier disposition toward her.
“Yep,” she smirks, “she really won me over that day. I even went with her to get the tattoo.”
“Well, damn,” I scoff, feeling irritated by the irony of it all. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to get Allison to be nice to Lizzy, and now that I’ve ended things, I find out she finally likes her. “Are the two of you like friends now?”
My stomach sinks as she nods her head, dreading the possibility of being around Lizzy without being with her. “Yeah, we are actually. She called me after you left wanting to make sure you made it home okay. She’s heartbroken, Brenden. I can’t speak to her love for Xander, but I know for a fact Lizzy loves you. She loves you.”
I flop back on the couch again, looking up at the ceiling as a lump grows in my throat and tears begin to fill my eyes. “I know,” I mumble, clearing my throat, “but she doesn’t want the things I want.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I want to marry her for one thing.”
“You do?” she gasps.
Her shock is understandable. I’ve been against the idea of marriage for most of my life, but anything that would bind Lizzy and I together
, I support.
Moving my head so I can look her in the eyes, I answer, “I would marry her tomorrow if I could.”
“Wow,” she breathes. “Who says she doesn’t want that too? Have you told her you want to marry her?”
“No,” I mock. “I was too worried it would scare her off because I don’t think she ever wants to get married again. And that’s the problem. I can’t keep putting my heart and soul into our relationship—into her—without knowing if she’ll ever feel the same way.”
“So, now you’re only willing to bet on a sure thing?”
“If that’s how you want to look at it, then yeah, I guess so.” I shrug. “Why hang on to her hoping one day she’ll want those things, only to find out she doesn’t? Don’t you think things will get harder as time goes on?”
“I suppose it would, but let’s look on the flipside of that. What if you’re giving her up and making yourself miserable only to figure out she does want those things, but it’s too late? You can’t get that back once it’s lost, so which one sounds worse? Getting more time with her and having to go through this later, or losing her now for no reason?”
My heart sinks as I consider her question. If she’s right and I just made a huge mistake, I’m afraid it’s already too late. Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do, I know I hurt Lizzy this morning. I turned my back on her and walked away as she sobbed, and I’m not so sure she’d be willing to give me another chance.
Before I can respond, there is a frantic, hurried knock on the front door. My brows furrow as I turn to look over at the door, but I don’t move to answer it. We don’t exactly get a lot of visitors, especially not at this hour.
When my gaze lands back on Allison, her lips curl into a smile as she says, “It’s for you.” My pulse races as she gets up from the couch and I realize who’s at the door. I can’t believe Lizzy came here for me.
“Why is she here?” I breathe, hating how panicked I sound.
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