When shit like this happens, I second-guess what I’m doing with Avery. I love her, I’m in love with her, but I don’t know if I’m capable of giving her what she needs long-term. Avery deserves the world and someone who is going to take care of her, probably better than I can. Especially since the relationship modeling I experienced as a child was far from healthy. And the conversation with Mark drives that point home in ways I don’t want it to, especially now. It just proves how relationship inept I truly am.
I don’t know how to navigate this new us. It was fine when she needed me for everything and depended on me, but this is different. Now that she’s standing on her own two feet, I feel like I’m the one developing a dependency. I’ve never been that guy. I’ve always been determined never to be that guy. And now, here I am, sitting on the couch, waiting for her to come home. I don’t like the way it feels.
It’s seven thirty by the time Avery finally walks in the door. I hear her keys jingle and her shoes thud on the mat. The closet door opens and closes before she comes around the corner. “Hey, you.” She glances at the TV, which is blank, and tips her head to the side. “What are you up to?”
“Just thinking. You’re later than usual. Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I had a meeting off-site that I want to tell you about.”
She shuffles over, drops her phone on the coffee table, and flops down on the couch, leaving a cushion of space between us.
“Oh? I thought you were on paperwork duty.”
“I was. The meeting was unexpected.”
“You wanna tell me about it?”
She twists her hair up off her neck and wrinkles her nose. Tucking her chin against her shoulder, she sniffs her armpit. “Oh, wow. I am ripe. Give me fifteen minutes to freshen up.”
She hops back to her feet.
“Do you want some help?” I could really use the distraction from all the crap floating around in my head right now.
“Give me a five-minute head start.”
“Okay. Sure.”
“Perfect. Thanks.” She braces her hand on my knee and bends to give me a quick peck on the lips before she wanders down the hall and into her bedroom.
Where I sleep with her every night.
I sit on the couch counting down the minutes while I try to reset my mental state, but the phone call from my mom weighs heavy on my mind, and so does that conversation with Mark at the bar. I don’t want to think about the shitstorm that’s coming my way with my parents.
Even though I’m an adult and I live in a completely different state than either of them, they love to bring me into the middle of their battles. Every single time I get to listen to them blame each other for their current circumstances, when the reality is they’re the ones who continue to make bad decisions. And now I’m seeing that maybe I’m exactly like them, more than I wanted to be, because for the past couple of years, I’ve brought countless women home while I’ve been in love with my best friend. I was too stupid or emotionally stunted to see it until Mark pointed it out.
And what does that say about me? How the hell can I be a good boyfriend when it took almost losing her to recognize that I was in love with her?
Avery’s phone buzzes with a message, pulling me out of my thoughts. A name flashes across the screen. I grab it off the coffee table when it lights up a second time and my throat tightens instantly.
I don’t even think about what I’m doing, or how it’s an invasion of privacy as I key in her passcode. I tap on the message feed. It’s a new thread, started moments ago, but the content makes my stomach flip and drop.
Sam: Thanks again for agreeing to see me today. Let me know how things go with D, hope we can work this out.
I scan the message several times. There’s only one, but that doesn’t mean there weren’t others. Those are easy enough to delete. I know because I used to watch my parents do it all the time with voicemails and texts back when they were still together and cheating on each other. I click over to recent calls and find one from the same number that came through earlier in the day. Much earlier. Like more than eight hours ago earlier.
I break out in a cold sweat and find it hard to swallow. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Sam and I were tight all through high school and most of college. But when he cheated on Avery, I dropped him like a bad habit. It was too close to home. And now that I’m truly acknowledging my stupid fucking feelings—it was an easy choice to make. He’d had what I wanted and screwed it up. I hadn’t been in any state to step into the boyfriend shoes and Avery hadn’t been in an emotional place to get into another relationship, but axing Sam as a friend was the clear choice. My loyalties would always lie with Avery.