by Alicia Rades
“Siobhan, he went traveling for two years and has been focusing on his career for the better part of a decade. He’s not prepared for marriage!”
I wonder why Juliet knows so much about him, although she’s telling me a few things that he’s already shared with me, but I almost feel jealous of her knowledge.
“If he’s such a great guy, why aren’t you with him?” I snarl at her.
Her voice softens, and she seems taken aback, as if the answer is so simple. “Because he’s supposed to be with you.”
I’m quiet for a few moments, digesting her latest statement. I don’t say anything for about a minute. Juliet is staring at me, waiting for a response.
“Well, why didn’t he tell me any of this?” Tears are welling up in my eyes, and I’m not sure if they’re tears of anger and frustration or if they’re tears of sorrow because I’m realizing the truth.
“Because it’s not important, Siobhan. What’s important right now is that you’re doing everything you can to push this great guy away because you’re so afraid to fall in love with someone.”
She finally came out and said it. The tears fall down my face as I realize that she’s right. I feel ashamed, and it’s not just the control that Juliet has over me and the tone of voice she’s using. I am angry at myself for misjudging this man, this spectacular man who freely shared himself with me and made me feel special.
I know that it’s not Jacob’s fault that I reacted the way I did. It was my fear of falling in love—the realization that I loved this man—that I had to sabotage it for myself and turn the situation into something it wasn’t.
Was that why I was trembling all morning after he left, after we made sweet, passionate love to each other? Perhaps it wasn’t the feeling of love but the realization that I loved him that freaked me out and caused my body to quiver. My heart turns within my chest, sinking, and I bitterly hate myself right now.
“You’re right,” I admit, and I move over to the couch and sink down into you. “You are completely right.”
Juliet’s face is full of shock, and I know it’s because I’ve confessed this to her.
Tears are still streaming down my face as I pour out my heart to her. “I must have went looking for a reason not to be with him. After all, I was so happy. I am terrified of love, Juliet.” I look up at her, my eyes begging her to rescue me. “I don’t know what to do,” I cry.
Juliet sits next to me on the couch and lets me lean my head on her shoulder, my tears still falling.
“I should have listened, but I’m so goddamn stubborn.” I burry my face into her shoulder and go silent for a long while as my body quivers. “I should talk to him.” I sit up, and Juliet looks at me, somewhat in horror.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she says.
“Why not?” I’m confused.
“Well, when you left, he got kind of mad. If I remember right, he said, and I quote, ‘That girl needs to get her shit together. I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.’ Siobhan, you hurt him. You hurt him bad.”
I stare down at her, stunned. He doesn’t want to be with me anymore? I know I overreacted, but I want desperately to fix the situation.
“I think you’re going to need a bit more than a quick visit at his apartment to fix this, Siobhan,” she advises. Her eyes are full of sorrow for me.
“What am I supposed to do, then?” I whisper.
She simply stares at me, and I know she doesn’t have an answer to this issue, either. “I really don’t know, Siobhan.”
“I’m an idiot. I’m such an idiot.”
“No, Siobhan,” she comforts. “Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I don’t even know what’s wrong with me. I just don’t get any of this.”
We stare at each other for a few moments, unmoving.
“I’ll sleep on it, I guess,” I say as I climb off the couch and carry myself to my bedroom. The task is difficult, but I eventually make it to the door.
Turning back to her, my hand on the frame of my door, I give her one more indication of how I feel. “Thanks, Juliet,” I say, forcing the corners of my mouth to turn up in an apologetic smile. “For everything.”
Then I turn into my room and cross to my bed, slumping down upon it and falling asleep immediately.
24
I wake up early enough that it’s still dark in my room. The city is not quite ready for another day, but I get out of bed anyway. I shower, blow dry my hair, and slip on a presentable outfit—my favorite jeans and a dark red top. I put on some makeup and give myself a bit of a smile in the mirror. I think I look good, but I’m not completely sure of myself.
I don’t take my gaze away from my reflection as I quietly give myself a pep-talk. I take a long, deep breath, putting what I know from my yoga classes into my morning routine. I do my best not to talk down to myself and tell myself how stupid I was throughout the entire ordeal.
Juliet isn’t awake yet when I leave the apartment. I purposely leave before she wakes so that she can’t talk me out of it or give me advice that I don’t need.
I slowly make my way to Jacob’s place. I know I’m subconsciously stalling the visit as my feet move slow against the pavement, but my persistence to win this guy’s heart back pushes me along. I really don’t know what else to do but talk to him. I deleted his number already, and I really don’t want to do this over the phone anyway.
I want desperately to make this work between us as I think back on how nice he was to me and how much fun I had with him, but something deep inside of me is still completely frightened of the outcome. I try my best to suppress my anxiety along the walk, contemplating these ideas, but the tension throughout my body is undeniable. The walk takes a while, so I have plenty of time to put my breathing exercises to use. Once I get to his building, I begin to feel a bit braver, my nerves sufficiently repressed.
As I bound up the stairs, I consider myself lucky that another resident is exiting the building. I quicken my pace up the last few steps and catch the door before it closes. I don’t know if Jacob would let me up here after everything I did if I had to get buzzed in. After all, I did act like a mega bitch, and he didn’t deserve any of that.
Once at his door—apartment 202, easy enough to remember—I simply stare into it for a few moments, collecting myself again. When I finally feel ready, I knock.
It takes a few moments, but then I hear shuffling behind the door. It swings open.
Jacob stands in the doorway in jeans and a blue t-shirt. His hair is tidy, and he looks more attractive than I remember. I catch a whiff of his scent as the aroma swiftly moves past me. I want to bury my head in his shoulder and inhale his scent while his arms are wrapped around me.
He seems surprised to see me, but his expression quickly turns to one of anger. My heart sinks because of it, deeply affected by his glare.
“Look, Jacob,” I start. I know my eyes are full of regret and apology. I can’t seem to hold that back, yet it doesn’t change his expression and make him any happier to see me. “I am really sorry.”
He glances nervously back into his apartment then back at me. “Jen and Benjamin are still asleep in their room. Mind if we take a walk?” His voice isn’t friendly as you might expect from this type of suggestion. His face is static, unmoving with his words and very difficult to decipher. I can’t quite read his tone, but I think he’s more annoyed at me than angry.
“Sure,” I agree. I back away from the door to let him exit.
Neither of us talk until we’re out of the building. The air is a bit cool this morning, but it’s nothing I can’t bear. I cross my arms around my chest anyway, but I think it’s more to make myself feel smaller, not to warm my bare skin.
“I was way out of line,” I start.
“Yeah, you were,” he snaps at me, and then he takes a quick breath. I can tell he didn’t mean for his tone to come across so harsh. Jacob is not a bitter guy. For some reason, I feel like he’s putting on
a show punitively.
“I completely misjudged you,” I tell him, prepared to give him the truth on everything. “I guess I was just frightened. I’m not good with relationships.”
He gives a bit of a laugh. “Siobhan, no one is good with relationships. It’s the trust that we put in people that make things work, and I’m not entirely sure that you’re ready to put your trust in me.”
His words bite.
“But I am now,” I argue.
“Siobhan, I don’t think a quick visit to my apartment is going to fix this,” he says, and I’m instantly reminded of Juliet and the way she said the same thing last night. They really get each other, don’t they? Or did they already discuss this knowing that this is what I would do to try and work things out?
Jacob’s head stays low, and his hands are tucked away in his pockets as we walk. He continues. “How do I know that I can trust you, Siobhan?”
The way he says the word “you” stings. What does he mean?
“I mean, how do I know that you won’t freak out again? How am I supposed to trust that you’ve changed, that you’re ready to be in a real relationship?” His body and his words pause, and then he turns to me, staring me straight in the eyes. I have a hard time holding his gaze because I feel guilty about the entire ordeal. “It seems you’re trying to find every reason possible not to be with me.” He pauses again, taking a deep breath before letting out his last words. “I’m not sure that you’re honestly ready to love me.”
But I am, I am, I scream in my head, but reality strikes, and I realize the truth of his words. Am I ready? I think I am, but I’m not entirely sure. Would I try to find another reason not to be with him if we worked this out? Would we have to go through all of this again? I’m not positive if he would stand for that. Jacob doesn’t seem like that type of guy.
“I want you to go home and really think about this, for your own sake,” he says. “If you still want me, you’re going to have to put a bit more effort into winning me back than coming to my apartment for a chat.” His tone isn’t angry or malicious, but he turns away from me and walks back to his apartment as if it will help his words sink in.
“I’m really sorry,” I call out to him, but he doesn’t acknowledge my apology.
I rack my brain on the way back to my apartment as I try to digest what he said. He wants me to think about it harder? He doesn’t think I love him enough? He wants me to try more diligently? I’m not entirely sure if I’m misinterpreting his words or not. Is he doing this for my sake? It feels like it, and I find that quite frustrating.
25
When I arrive back at the apartment, Juliet is awake and has her paint supplies out. Her plastic tarp is spread across the floor, and her easel is in front of her.
“How’d it go?” she asks, not taking her eyes off her painting. “I assume you went to talk to Jacob.”
How does she pick up on things so quickly?
“I’m not really sure,” I reply. “I mean, I think it went okay, but I didn’t exactly win him back.” I’m not entirely sure of myself right now, and it shows in my tone.
“I told you that you wouldn’t,” she says. She doesn’t hold back a single ounce of cockiness from her tone.
“I know. He says I need to try harder. Juliet, what does that mean?” I look to her for guidance, hoping that she’ll maintain her usually bossy attitude and tell me exactly what to do. I make my way over to her as I beg for her advice.
She pauses from her painting for a moment and puts on her thinking face, mouth twisted to the side, eyes staring off into the distance. Then she goes back to the painting. “It sounds to me like he wants you to prove that you love him. Like, if you really did love him, you would do something crazy to show it, you know?”
I don’t really know what she means, but I agree with her anyway. “Yeah, I guess so. I just need time to think.”
I turn from the living room and enter my bedroom, shutting my door behind me. What am I going to do? Flopping down on my bed in frustration, my mind flips through a hundred questions per second. How do I fix this? What does Jacob want? What’s wrong with me? Does he still like me? I lie there for what seems like hours, racking my brain for a solution. How can I do something to show him that I want to be with him? This guy is incredible, and I don’t want to let that go.
Could I take him on a Ferris wheel ride? On a carriage ride through the park? No, I can’t. That’s not good enough, not to mention that I’d just be reproducing his romantic gestures.
After what seems like an eternity staring up at the ceiling and considering my options, I get up angrily and storm out of the apartment.
“Where are you going?” Juliet asks as she looks up from her painting.
“Out,” I say. I slam the door behind me.
I walk, not knowing where I’m going, but I feel like moving is helping me calm down more. Perhaps some fresh air might spark inspiration.
What can I do? What can I do? I repeat the phrase over and over again in my head, but each time I ask it, I get the same answer: nothing.
What am I supposed to do? Should I threaten to jump off a bridge if he doesn’t choose to be with me? No, that’s not a good idea. Could I rent a limo and drive around the city, shouting from the sun roof how much I’m terribly sorry for my behavior? That doesn’t sound like a good idea, although I like the thought of professing my love to him in front of a crowd of strangers. What can I do?
Before I know it, I’ve walked so far through the city streets that I’ve ended up at Central Park, which is quite a walk from my apartment. Perhaps this bit of nature might help me come up with a good idea. I begin walking the paths, but nothing seems to inspire me.
Could I take him on a romantic date? I don’t know. My mind is drawing blanks, and I can’t find any real answer that makes sense. I’m not even entirely sure what he wants me to do. Think about this, for your own sake, he had said. I am thinking about it!
Think about what, exactly? I wonder. Do I really want to be with this guy? My heart flutters at the thought, and just then, a horse-drawn carriage rides past. I’m reminded of the fantastic Saturday we spent together. It was thrilling, and the thought makes me grin. Yes, I want that every day of my life. I love him. But what can I do to show him?
I walk slowly along, but when I don’t find any inspiration, I leave the path and fall to the grass. I lay on my back, eyes up toward the sky.
I want nothing more to be with this man, the man who was so kind to me every chance he got, the one who made me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt, the one that I shared all my thoughts and feelings about the world with—everything, that is, except my past, which he now knows about.
God, I want to be with this man, and I want desperately to win his heart back and show him that I’m ready for this relationship, but how can I do that?
I leave the park without answers and return to my apartment, but I’m still at a loss even after the hours of walking the city. If Central Park can’t get my creative juices flowing, then I don’t know what will.
Juliet is still working on her painting, but I pass by her toward my room and don’t say a word.
My computer is staring at me once I’m alone, so I turn it on. I hope to find some answers there. What exactly does Jacob want?
Once my computer is awake, I begin my search, hunting for answers on how to solve the situation. I start at Google and search ideas on how to fix a relationship. None of the advice seems to match my situation, and I realize how ridiculous I’m being for consulting a search engine to fix my problems.
Isn’t there a backspace button I can use in real life so that we can just forget about my freak out like it never happened? Perhaps there should be an enter button so that we can move past it.
I ponder these thoughts long and hard before finally shaking them off. I’m getting nowhere with this, and all I really want to do right now is cuddle up in Jacob’s arms as he tells me that everything will be alright and that he forgives me. But
I know that’s not going to happen anytime soon until I figure out how to win him back. There has to be something here that might inspire me.
Since I’m not finding anything at Google, I dig deeper into my research on the subject by trying to better understand Jacob and what he wants from me. What exactly did he mean, anyway? What does he want me to do? I already know I love him!
I start at his social media profiles, really trying to get a better sense of him, but they don’t tell me anything I don’t already know.
Next, I turn to his writing samples again in hopes that something in the text might jump out at me. When I come across the article about how to please a woman, I read through it thoroughly, and then I read it again. The article talks about surprising the girl, displaying your affection, showing honesty, being sensitive, the list goes on. At the end of one paragraph, a final tip catches my eye.
If you really want to please her during the proposal, a woman can’t physically say no if you propose in front of a crowd.
Although it’s not really what I’m going for, it sparks an idea. I know exactly how to prove that I’m ready to fall in love with Jacob. I finally understand what he wants from me.
I quickly rise from my computer chair, fling my door open, and trip in the process, landing face-first in the living room. I regain myself swiftly and rise.
Juliet is staring at me, stunned by my entrance. I glance at her and can tell she’s trying to stifle a laugh.
“I know how to win him back!” I explain, and together, we devise a plan.
26
Juliet and I work extra hard the next week to get everything in place. We will execute our plan at the next reception at Watson’s this Friday night.
I spend most of my week marketing the event, sharing the mystery with my Twitter followers and promoting it on my blog. I even write up and submit a press release to several websites and small newspapers across the city. I manage to get a few small news crews to agree to cover the reception.