Reluctantly in Love

by Niecey Roy

  I shook my head. No, no, no.

  “I love you, Roxanna. Just—”

  I held up my hand. “No. Don’t say anything else.”

  “Why are you so damn scared of feeling something?” His tone hardened and he spun around, sweeping his hands through his hair. “This is life. You can’t expect a relationship to just stand still forever. You can’t expect me not to feel anything for you.”

  “You knew from the beginning I can’t have those things.” I shook my head.

  He glared at me. “You can’t or you won’t or you don’t fucking want to, Roxanna? Why don’t you try being honest with yourself and me for once.”

  I bristled. “I can’t change who I am because you—”

  “Because I love you? Excuse me. You are something else, you know that?” He took a step back; the furrow in his brows told me how disgusted he was with me.

  Glowering, I said, “This is just who I am.”

  “Fuck that.” His voice shook, and my breathing became labored from the emotions rolling through me. Chase raked a hand through his hair. “You can’t tell me you don’t love me too.”

  “I don’t.” My heart broke saying it—I broke saying it. It was a lie, though I’d never admit it out loud. A lie my heart wanted to call me on. A lie I needed to keep because love was a dangerous and fragile emotion.

  His face settled into an expression of disbelief. Of disappointment. He sucked in a breath then said, “You’re lying.”

  I lowered my chin to stare at my toes—anywhere but him. “I’m not capable of that kind of love, Chase. You deserve someone who can give you all the things you want.”

  “You’re running from something that could be really amazing, and you know it.” There was sadness in his words. The queasiness in my gut intensified and I concentrated on slow breaths while my forehead broke out in a cold sweat.

  “Maybe,” I whispered. “Or maybe you and I would turn into a really big mess, and the worst mistake we ever made. I’m not willing to take that gamble, Chase.”

  The sound of my heart thrashing in my chest drowned everything else out. Say it, and he’ll leave. Say it, and you’ll never hear from him again.

  My chest caved and my shoulders hunched over with the effort it took to say, “We were just hanging out, Chase. That’s all it ever was. I got caught up in being with you because . . . you’re my muse.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Oh, so all of this—” he threw out his arms, “—is because fucking me makes you write better. That’s it?”

  I’d never seen Chase angry before. Cussing wasn’t something he did, and I flinched at the sharp edge to his words. He’ll hate me after tonight.

  I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. Everything coming out of my mouth right now was a lie. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Friends—that’s what we have to be.”

  “Well, that’s not all I want.”

  “It’s not fair to you to be with someone who doesn’t want the same things you do. You should be happy. I want you to be happy.” I pinched my eyes closed because tears were welling up in the corners—I didn’t want him to see.

  “I was happy,” he said.

  The door slammed and my body jerked as if I’d been hit in a gut with a baseball bat.

  I choked on my tears, sucking them back in. It was stupid to cry.

  Curled in a ball on the floor, I pictured my mother’s tear stained face: “One day, anak, you will meet a man who will try to be your everything. Don’t let him. Love will ruin you.”

  He deserves better. Repeating that in my head over and over didn’t help, though.

  Letting Chase go was the right thing to do.

  So why did I feel like I’d been hit by a truck?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “Holy crap. You’ve lost it,” Gen said from somewhere nearby. I didn’t know where because I couldn’t move, or didn’t want to move—either was a possibility.

  I was broken.

  My head throbbed, my eyes hurt, and my body was a pile of goo. Where were my muscles? I’d lost them somewhere along the way while killing off the entire bottle of vodka.

  “Go away,” I mumbled and rolled to my stomach, covering my head with a fluffy pillow. The best part about an indefinite stay at a ritzy hotel was the endless supply of fluffy things and amenities, which was nice, since I’d checked in with only what I’d been wearing, and slippers.

  I’d spent the last two days drinking martinis coupled with shopping therapy.

  “Richard said you were on a karaoke rampage last night.” Gen held up an empty bottle of vodka by the neck. “I don’t know how you drink so much of this stuff and still be alive.”

  “I didn’t drink it all in one night.” My head pounded.

  Hitting the town with Richard and his gamer friends had been more fun than I’d anticipated. Their gamer talk was easier to understand the more I drank. By the end of the night I knew what a 1v1 was. One of the guys promised to make me notecards. Not that I planned to take up gaming anytime soon, but I was a sucker for notecards and random information.

  Most of the night was a bit blurry, but I had a vague recollection of promising to sponsor their team for the big tournament Richard had been raving about for months. I had no idea how much dough I’d agreed to, and the not knowing made me a little nervous. I was notorious for being overly generous while drinking. Usually my drunken generosity involved giving away a purse to a friend after they mentioned how much they liked it, not throwing around sponsorships for events I didn’t understand. A tournament for video games? My mind boggled at the idea.

  “How long do you plan on staying here?”

  “Until my parents aren’t doing it in my house, that’s when.” The bed covers shifted, and then were gone. I didn’t lift the pillow. “Give me back the covers; it’s freezing in here.”

  “No.”

  “Why are you torturing me?” I moaned.

  “Because someone needs to.”

  A wave of nausea hit me like a typhoon and I rolled from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom with my eyes half closed. I barely made it to the toilet in time. When I finished retching, I pulled myself up against the vanity and splashed cold water on my face to cool down; I was hot all over.

  “Well, that was disgusting,” Gen said from the doorway. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you throw up like that.”

  “Yeah, well, I was celebrating the night before my birthday. You know I like to celebrate my birth week.”

  She raised her brows. “Okay, then.”

  “I celebrated the hell out of it.” I dropped to all fours and crawled across the bathroom tile. When I passed her by the doorway, I said, “And now I am definitely not going out tonight.”

  Plus, the Halloween costume I’d bought was a companion costume to Chase’s—he a zombie doctor, me a zombie nurse. I sure as hell didn’t feel like going out now that he and I were . . .

  We’re over. It’s what you wanted.

  “When did you have time to go shopping with all the drinking you’ve been doing?” She nudged a shoe box with the toe of her boot.

  “You make it sound like I’ve been here for a month. I’ve only been here two nights.” I crawled between shoe boxes.

  In times of high stress, some people gambled, others baked cookies, sometimes they went Godzilla in a gym—me, I was a shoe shopper. Usually, it cleared my head. Not this time.

  “You can’t hide from your parents in a hotel room full of shoes forever.” Gen sat cross-legged beside me.

  I curled up onto my side on the floor, hugging a shoe box to my stomach. “I’m not hiding. They know where I am. And they know I need time to process. I haven’t seen them in months, my dad’s barely talked to me since I told him I’m not joining his company, and then they fly here and hit me with all this . . . this . . . crap. They shouldn’t have done that.”

  There was a hint of panic to my voice. There’d been a hint of panic to
my voice for the last two days. I didn’t like surprises. Even presents made me wary. Weird, right? I just liked to know things. I got my surprises out of books and movies, during which I wracked my brain to figure out the ending. In real life, surprises were no good. Especially when they involved my parents doing things I never wanted to think about ever again.

  And then ended with Chase walking out the door.

  “I know . . . I don’t know what I would have done in your situation.” She glanced around the room. “I’d probably be in a hotel too.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, you would.”

  She lifted the lid from the box I held against my stomach. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head too vigorously. Bad mistake. “No.”

  “You sure?” She held up a shiny red high heel.

  The moment I saw those red beauties in the storefront window I saw stars, and there’d been a flicker of happiness. With my finger pressed to the window, I’d imagined the pair of heels matched with the naughty nurse costume I’d bought. Which made me think of Chase. Which made my chest ache with all sorts of emotions I didn’t care to stress about right now. I was no good with stress.

  Sitting up, I pulled the shoebox onto my lap and pulled out the matching heel. “Aren’t they beau—” I sucked in a sniffle, “Beautiful? I mean, they’re perfect, aren’t they?” My breaths were short and shallow now. “I mean, I really love these stupid shoes.”

  Gen’s eyes widened.

  “Yyyeesss . . .” Her voice was full of caution. “They’re very nice.”

  I slipped a heel on and stuck my leg out in front of me. “I just can’t live without these stupid shoes!” And then the tears came. I yanked the other shoe from her hand and clutched it to my chest. “They co-co-com-ple-ete me.”

  “Roxie.” Gen’s tone was soothing. She set her hand on my bare knee. “Are we still talking about the shoes?”

  “Ye-es?” The question sounded like an injured whale.

  “Why don’t you call him?” Gen stood and stepped over a shoebox. She plucked a handful of tissues from the box on the table. “You can fix this.”

  “And say what?” I sniffed. “He doesn’t want to hear from me.”

  “Of course he does.”

  “I’m too screwed up.” I blew my nose into a tissue. “Look at me!” I let out a deep breath and my shoulders caved. “I’m a hot mess.”

  Gen sat on the edge of the bed to gaze down at me. “Yeah, you are.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “But I love you anyway.”

  “It’s better this way. He needs someone who wants the same things he does. And me? I don’t even know what I want anymore.” I pressed my fingertips to my temples. “Do you have any aspirin?”

  “Richard said you were rapping last night, so I brought a bottle of extra-strength just in case.” She reached for her purse sitting at the end of the bed. “I figured you’d need it.”

  “Rapping?” I groaned, my hand cupping my forehead. “I hope I killed it.”

  “He took a video.”

  “Awesome,” I lied.

  “It’s probably on YouTube.”

  “Perfect.” I clawed my way up the side of the bed and rolled onto the mattress. Slowly.

  Gen shook the aspirin bottle. “Do you want me to hand feed you?”

  “Yes.” I propped myself up by my elbows. “I love you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Here.” She held the aspirin out, and I opened my mouth for her to drop them inside. She handed me the bottle of water from the night stand.

  “Just so you know, I’m going back to sleep in two minutes, exactly.”

  “Wow, I’ve never seen you look this bad.”

  I washed the pills down and handed her the bottled water. “I feel like shit. Things are shitty. I’m just going to hide out here in this suite. For-eh-ver.”

  Gen set the bottle back on the nightstand. “Your parents know you’re here and they haven’t come to see you?”

  “Space. They’re giving me lots of it.” I laid my head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. “I might just stay here until they leave.”

  “They came all this way,” Gen said. “You should hear them out.”

  “Ugh. I think I heard—and saw—enough. Now I need therapy.” I pressed a pillow over my face and groaned into it.

  “You needed therapy long before you saw your parents doing it.”

  I lifted the pillow just enough so I could see her. “Yes, because they ruined me.”

  She laughed. “I think you’ll live.”

  I rolled to my side and curled into the fetal position. “Really? Do you know for sure? Have you ever seen your dad’s naked butt humping over your mom? No. You haven’t. Because if you had, you’d be hiding out in a hotel on a vodka diet for the rest of your life too.”

  “You’re right. I don’t even want to think about it.” She flopped onto the bed beside me. Lying on her side, she propped her head into the palm of her hand. “What are you going to do about Chase?”

  I pinched my eyes shut. “How is he?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to him yet.”

  “Good. Don’t. Just let it be.”

  “He misses you.”

  I peeked an eye open. “He does? He said that?”

  “No, but of course he does.”

  I shut my eye. “I doubt it. He probably hates me.”

  “I know you don’t like talking about your feelings—”

  “My feelers are private.”

  “Not with your best friend, they’re not. Your feelers are my feelers and we talk about them. Because that’s what best friends do. And it’s cheaper than therapy.” She scooted so our eyes were in line. “Your parents screwed up . . . probably a whole bunch of times. But you can’t let their relationship define every relationship you have, Roxie. They’re not ruining your life. You’re ruining your life by dwelling on it.”

  “That’s why I’m on a liquid diet.” I felt my sigh clear down to my toes. “Everything I thought I knew about their marriage went—” I fisted my hands together then popped my fingers open wide, “—poof! Up in smoke.”

  “I’m sorry.” Gen squeezed my hand in hers. “I can’t even imagine.”

  For the first time since walking out of my house and straight to the liquor store, my eyes welled with tears. My head hurt too much to attempt to hold them back. “I just don’t understand. Why did she tell me he walked out on us? I hated him, Gen. It ruined me. Afterwards, I could barely look at him. I stopped caring whether he was in my life or not. And I pushed him away. It wasn’t just him being too busy. It was me, thinking he didn’t want me around—that he left me—because he didn’t care.”

  My voice cracked; the ache in my chest was so heavy it hurt to breathe. “Ten years, you know? Ten years to make myself into this . . . this . . . this person who questioned every intention of any man who ever showed interest in me. Because the only thing I’ve ever known for certain is that men leave.” I blinked back tears. “She let me believe that.”

  “She should have told you the truth, but I remember your mom back then—she was really hurt. Whatever her reasons for kicking him out, whatever his were for leaving, I don’t think either of them meant for it to hurt you so much. I’m sure they wish they handled things differently.” Gen tucked a stringy lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m sure they wish they sat you down back then and explained it all to you.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But they didn’t. And now I suck.” When I closed my eyes Chase was there, and that image felt like a million pin pricks right in the center of my heart. “I’m a coward.”

  “You’re not a coward, Roxie. You’re the bravest person I know. You’re not scared of anything.”

  I snorted. “Really? I don’t think making bad decisions is the same thing as being brave.”

  “Oh, knock it off.” She flicked me in the arm. “And moping around in a hotel isn’t your style.”

  “Oh yeah?�
� I asked. “What’s my style?”

  “Your style is kick-ass and take names. Your style is take no prisoners. Your style is not feeling sorry for yourself.”

  I let her words marinate for a moment. And then a spark of . . . something. “You know what? You’re right.” I got a grip on my cajones and rolled out of bed.

  My legs weren’t on the same page; they wobbled like gelatin under me. My knees hit the floor. “Ouch, shit!”

  “That’s the spirit!” Gen bounded off the bed and to her feet with a lot more pep.

  I struggled to my feet by clawing my way up against the bed.

  “I’m going to go give them a piece of my mind!” I pressed my hand to my forehead. “After a nap. Or maybe I’ll feel better after a shower.”

  “And you’re not just going to give them a piece of mind, you’re going to . . .” Gen gave me a pointed stare.

  “And then . . . I don’t know. I need to sort some things out.” Like my head. Like everything I ever thought I knew about . . . everything. My thoughts were a jumbled mess and I could only deal with one problem at a time.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Gen followed me to the bathroom and leaned against the doorjamb while I turned on the shower.

  The water was too hot on the back of my hand. I adjusted the knob and glanced over my shoulder. “No; it’s okay. I need to go alone. My parents are as bad at sharing their feelings as I am. It’ll be awkward. Thanks, though.” I stood and dried my hand on a towel. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

  “Always.” She hugged me.

  “Don’t tell Chase I asked about him, okay? Just leave this one alone, Gen.”

  She sighed. “You deserve to be happy. Letting him in isn’t going to hurt you. Letting him go will.” She pulled away and leveled me with a serious, concerned gaze. “Chase is one of the good ones and if you let him, he’d be there for you. Maybe you two won’t work out, maybe you will. That’s part of the gamble that’s life.”

  I crinkled up my nose. “Since when did you get to be so know-it-all in the relationship department?”

  “Since I took a leap of faith on a guy who turned out to be The One.” She squeezed my upper arms. “And someday, when you’re done being scared of getting hurt, you’ll realize that you let a really good man go.”