Imperfect Match

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Imperfect Match Page 17

by Melanie Harlow


  “I guess that’s … you guess that’s it? It’s that easy for you?”

  “None of this is easy, but I can’t change your mind and you sure as hell can’t change mine.”

  She drops her face into her hands and cries harder. I want so badly to comfort her, but I can’t. I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. Even though it kills me to see her in pain—especially knowing that I’m the one hurting her—I can’t give in on this.

  “You’re breaking my heart,” she sobs.

  It’s another knife through my chest, the biggest one yet, but I don’t pull it out. “In the end, the people you love always do.”

  Then I turn around and walk out of her kitchen, out of her apartment, out of her life.

  I slam the door to my apartment and go directly to the fridge to grab a beer.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Leo asks from his spot on the couch.

  Without answering, I twist off the cap with an angry jerk of my wrist and tip up the bottle.

  “Did you and Willow have a fight?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap, then drink again.

  “Okay.” He goes back to his bag of popcorn and movie.

  But suddenly I do want to talk about this. Leo would understand, right? He’d agree that my having kids would be the worst fucking decision I ever made. He would know that there are people who were meant to be fathers and people who were not. He and I did not get the good dad genes.

  “She’s completely out of her mind,” I say.

  My brother glances at me. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “She lied to me.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. She told me she canceled that appointment at the fertility clinic, but she didn’t.”

  Leo ponders that. “Huh. Kind of unlike her. To lie to you, I mean.”

  “I might not know her as well as I thought I did.” I take another long pull on my beer. “For example, I never thought she would be the kind of girl to think she could change me. I thought she understood who I was and wanted me anyway.”

  Leo stands up and ambles over to the counter with his popcorn bag. “What does she want to change?”

  “She wants me to be the kind of person who can be a dad. And I’m not.”

  He shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “She wants you to be the dad of some other dude’s kid?”

  “No.” I drink again. “She asked me to be the father.”

  Leo’s eyebrows shoot up. “No shit.”

  “No shit. It’s ludicrous.”

  As he chews, he appears to think hard about it. “So how would that work exactly? Would you be the guy that jerks off in the lab or would you just have sex the regular way to get the kid?”

  “It’s not going to work at all, Leo, because I said no fucking way! I don’t want to be a father at all, with or without Willow!”

  “So was she mad?” He shovels another fistful of popcorn in his mouth.

  “Yes, she was mad. But she’s got no right to be. I never lied to her. I never led her to believe I wanted kids.”

  “But you knew that she did,” he points out.

  “Yeah, but that seemed like something she would do way in the future. I don’t understand why she can’t just be happy with me for now!”

  He shrugs. “Girls are always thinking ahead. There’s this chick I work with at the store who’s like nineteen, and she has her wedding all planned out already, like right down to the dude’s Batman socks. She just doesn’t know who the dude is yet.”

  I shake my head and finish off my beer. “Girls are ridiculous. They’ve been sold this fantasy of perfection—perfect guy, perfect wedding, perfect life—and none of it’s real. I know, because I use their devotion to the fantasy to sell shit to them every single day.”

  “So did you guys break up or what?”

  “Yes.” I set the empty bottle on the counter and grab a second beer from the fridge. “She wants the fantasy and I’m too much of a realist. I know what marriage does to people in our family. I’ve seen it—the expectations are too high, and the disappointment and resentment are inevitable. You end up hating each other, even if you stay married.”

  “Are her parents divorced?” Leo asks.

  “No, and that’s another part of the problem. Her parents somehow make it look easy. They’re like the one in a million couple that figured it out. Willow thinks it can be like that for everyone, but it can’t.”

  “Maybe it can be that way for you guys though. You could try.”

  “There’s no point, Leo!” I yell, angry that he’s taking her side. I don’t know why I even bothered to tell him anything—he thinks like a child. “And I refuse to watch us self-destruct the way I watched Mom and Dad. It’s too painful.”

  Before Leo can say anything else, I grab my beer, march over to the couch and flop onto it. “We’re done.”

  Twenty-Three

  Willow

  Somehow I get my ass out of bed the next morning. My eyes are so puffy they feel as though they’ve swollen shut, but I have to function. I can’t lie around here because everything I look at reminds me of Reid. His scent clung to my pillow as I slept, making me yearn for him. When I took a shower, all I remembered was him climbing in there, making me dirty and then washing me clean again.

  Then when it’s time to grab breakfast, I see the insane amount of food in my fridge and start crying all over again.

  Fuck love.

  When I get to the office, I brace myself for some sort of platitude about what the universe wants or advice on how to cleanse my chakras. Instead, when Aspen sees me, the look on her face says it all.

  “I’m sorry,” she says softly and then comes over, wrapping her arms around me in a crushing hug. “I’m so, so sorry, Wills. I hoped that you guys would’ve found a way to survive this.”

  “Thanks.” I’m struggling not to cry, and it’s tough. “It didn’t work the way either of us hoped.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. Maybe once the pain subsides a little. Or at least when it doesn’t feel so raw.” Which basically means never.

  She releases me and nods. “You let me know when you’re ready. I’m here for you.”

  The lump in my throat grows bigger. To fight off tears, I decide to focus on moving forward. “I could use your help with something.”

  “Anything,” she says.

  “Want to help me choose a donor for insemination? I brought the profile book with me. If I can choose one by the end of the week, I might be able to start the first cycle next month.”

  “Of course. This is my niece or nephew we’re talking about here. I’m going to be their favorite babysitter, aren’t I?”

  I glance at Aspen’s outfit for the day—it looks like she’s fashioned a skirt out of recycled paper bags—and feel a twinge of nervousness. “Uh, sure.”

  We sit down at the small conference table with cups of coffee and go through all the profiles in the book, but I have a hard time feeling enthusiastic about it.

  “So what color hair and eyes do you want?” Aspen asks. “Do you have a preference for ethnicity? Ooooh, I think you should have a Ukrainian baby!”

  “Why?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know, it just sounds cool. Hey, what about this one? He sounds great.” She reads aloud from the page. “Tall, dark hair with blue eyes, with an Italian background.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Reid is tall with dark hair and blue eyes. He’s Italian, and if I can’t have Reid, I sure as hell don’t want to look at a baby that will only further remind me of him.”

  Aspen nods once and releases a heavy sigh. “Right. Makes sense. No Italian, got it.”

  She continues to flip a little further. “Oh! Look at this guy! Artistic and quiet with a calm demeanor. Mellow and approachable. Likes nature and cooking. Of German, Norwegian, and French descent.” She smiles at me. “No Italian b
lood, and the total opposite kind of personality.”

  I check out the profile of Donor #4347. When I look at all the information, I just want to throw the book. I don’t care what the guy is like because he’s not the guy I want anyway. “I don’t know. I can’t think.”

  Aspen touches my hand. “Wills, you don’t have to do this now, you know? You’re dealing with a lot.”

  “No, I’m just dealing with a reality that I never should’ve gone after Reid in the first place. I knew he didn’t want what I did, but I deluded myself into thinking I was enough to make him see how wrong he was.”

  “You are more than enough.”

  “Not for him!” I say, and then an onslaught of tears fall. “I wasn’t enough for him, Aspen. He didn’t love me enough to even consider it. He didn’t mull it over, it was just ‘no.’ It wasn’t this slug it out and find a way, it was give up the baby and keep him—knowing I was never going to be more than a girlfriend—or give him up and have a child. I had to choose ... and ... and I can’t do this! I just wanted him to love me.”

  She pulls me to her, and I break apart. All of the emotions flood me like a tsunami with one wave after another. Each one drags me under and when I catch my breath again, another hits. I’m trying so hard to keep afloat, but I’m drowning in the pain of losing him.

  There are so many questions.

  Why didn’t he love me enough to even try?

  Why did I think this would work?

  Why couldn’t he leave the door open for the future?

  Why can’t I give up what I want for him?

  How the hell do I live without him?

  “You can do this,” she assures me. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but I know you can. You are so strong, Willow.”

  I look at her, wishing I could believe that. Right now, I don’t feel strong. “I wanted him so much.”

  “I know.”

  “I would’ve been patient with him. I would’ve shown him just how amazing he is, but he’s just so hell-bent on avoiding anything that reminds him the slightest bit of his father that he’s basically ensuring that he’ll live a life just like him—lonely.”

  “You can’t change people, Willow.”

  I know she’s right, but I can’t help but feel like this is my failure too.

  If I meant that much to him, wouldn’t he have even tried?

  “And you shouldn’t have to change for him. You wanted a baby long before Reid,” Aspen continues. “Giving that dream up would’ve crushed you. No matter what pain you’re in now, that would’ve been a wound that never healed.”

  “I guess.” Fighting more tears, I sit back in my chair, shoulders slumped. “It’s going to be so hard doing this without his support. I never imagined myself going through it alone.”

  My sister looks offended. “You’re not alone, Willow. You’ve got me, you’ve got Mom and Dad, and you’ve got friends other than Reid. We’ll all support you.”

  “Thanks, Aspen.” This has to be one of the most intense and productive conversations I’ve ever had with my sister. Usually they’re filled with strange ideas that are totally off the wall.

  “Of course. Look, it won’t be easy, but you are never alone. Reid was important in your life, and losing him will inevitably suck.”

  She has no idea. He wasn’t just important, he was everything. I spent all my time with him. He knew everything about me. He was my person. And that was before we fell in love. “Yeah. It’s really going to suck.”

  “Do you want to look for that prize sperm?”

  I want to look for a dark cave to crawl into. I want to go back in time and stand my ground. I want to find his parents and knock them upside their heads.

  Aspen claps her hands and squeals. “Look, here’s one who likes yoga and camping, and he makes his own jewelry, clothing, and leathercraft!”

  I laugh as I sniff back the remainder of my tears. “I don’t like any of those things.”

  She stares into space for a moment. “True. Maybe I should have a baby with him.”

  I roll my eyes. “Look, Aspen, I changed my mind. I’m not really in the right headspace to choose a donor yet. Let’s give it a few days.”

  “Okay. Suit yourself.”

  I go back to my desk and try to keep my mind off Reid by clearing out my inbox, listening to voice mails, responding to inquiries, and setting up client interviews, but it’s hopeless. By lunchtime, I’m so miserable I can’t even be at work anymore.

  I make some excuse to Aspen, which I’m sure she sees through, and go home early. Back in my apartment, I put on my pajamas, wrap myself in a blanket, and curl up on the couch with a box of tissues, a pint of Chunky Monkey, and a Jane Austen marathon on TCM. But even Mr. Darcy doesn’t make me feel better. And Willoughby … God, Willoughby just crushes what’s left of my soul.

  How am I ever going to get over losing the love of my life and my best friend in one crushing blow?

  The following afternoon, I’m still lying on the couch in a vegetative state when I hear a knock on my apartment door.

  I didn’t even attempt to go to work this morning. Sleep was fleeting last night, and when I did finally get rest, my dreams were filled with a little dark-haired, blue-eyed baby boy.

  Needless to say, that dream will never come true.

  The knock sounds again.

  I don’t care who it is. If it’s Reid, I have nothing to say. If it’s Leo, I don’t want to see him. If it’s my sister, well, I’m not in the mood.

  “Leave it at the door.”

  “I will not.” The voice is probably the only one that can make me move. “Open this door right now, Willow.”

  “Give me a second, Mom.”

  I look around the apartment and know there’s nothing I could do to cover up my misery. There are candy wrappers, empty ice cream containers, and chip bags on the table. I’m in the same clothes I wore yesterday, and God only knows what my face looks like.

  Whatever.

  I keep the blanket around me as I shuffle to the door and open it. “Hi.”

  “Oh, dear God,” she says as she enters. “Your sister told me what happened.”

  “Good, then I don’t have to explain it.”

  “Can you explain why you’re not at work?”

  I look at my mother in her crisp black dress with a pair of red heels and the beautiful pearls that hang on her neck. She’s the epitome of class and poise. I’ve always admired that about her. She must be looking at me right now wondering how I came from her.

  “I’m dead inside. That’s why I’m not at work.”

  She sighs. “You’re not dead inside. You’re hurting, and I’m sorry for that. No mother wants to see her little girl in pain.”

  I shake my head while falling back on the couch. “Stupid love and my stupid heart. Stupid boys and their stupid inability to see what they have. I should’ve stayed single, so I wouldn’t have to struggle like this.”

  “Did you think it was going to be easy, Willow? Did you think your heart couldn’t be hurt when you fell in love?”

  “No,” I admit. “I knew it could hurt.”

  “It can also be healed, darling. But it won’t heal itself.

  “What would you like me to do, Mother? Reid walked out.”

  She walks over, kicking the tub of ice cream, and scoffs. “So you’re giving up?”

  “Instead of what? Begging? Am I supposed to keep stabbing my own heart for fun?”

  Mom falls quiet, taking in the scene around her and then looks at me. “Perhaps you’re right, Willow. Perhaps I was the one who was mistaken.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” she says, her voice softening, “maybe I was wrong when I matched you with Reid. I thought I saw something there, but … perhaps it wasn’t real.”

  Now it’s my turn to be shocked. “Matched me with Reid? But you had nothing to do with …”

  Oh my God, she did. I can’t believe I didn’t see it. My mother orchestrated t
he entire thing. Maybe it wasn’t on purpose at first, but there she was, the puppeteer in our little show. She made me have to be the one to match him, knowing there were feelings we were ignoring.

  “What were you saying?”

  “How? Why? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Mom folds her hands in front of her. “I was thinking that you both had very deep feelings for each other and that together, you’d both get what you wanted, but I was wrong, Willow. I’m very sorry.”

  “What exactly did you think we both wanted?”

  “Well, you wanted a family, and whether Reid knows it or not, so does he. The visions are the same even if the pathways were different. He didn’t know what love looked like, and you, my sweet girl …” Her hand cups my cheek. “You’re practically a never-ending supply of unconditional love. You wanted a husband and kids, and I hoped you and Reid would see the happy future you could give each other. But he just wasn’t ready for it, and I don’t know that he ever will be. There’s a very deep hurt inside of him. Until he’s ready to heal it, he’ll never be able to accept love.”

  A tear falls down my cheek. “And what do I do? How do I force him to accept love?”

  “You can’t. That’s something he has to figure out on his own.”

  “What if he never does?”

  “Then you move on.” She takes my hand. “Is a family still what you want? Even if it means you have to give up Reid?”

  “Yes.” The word slips from my lips as another tear slips from my eye.

  I want to move forward in my life. I’ll never love another man like I love Reid. There won’t be a replacement for him. No one will ever be able to live in his shadow, and that’s the one thing I have to come to terms with. He will always be my great love. I just wasn’t his.

  “Then, you have to let him go and not let losing him cost you anything else.”

  “You mean the baby,” I say.

  “I mean that if you gave him up because you were ready to have a child, then why would you put that off? Unless it’s not what you want anymore, but that’s something only you can decide.” My mother gets to her feet as the words make my chest tight. “I came to bring you this.”

 

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