Crazy in Love

“She believes in destiny.”

“That’s what Natalie is to me. She’s not only my wife. She’s my eternity. I love her that much.”

She scored with Nick Christiansen.

Is it wrong to be this stinkin’ happy for your best friend? I could tear up . . . and I do. I’m blaming those hormones Natalie was just talking about. I was a boohooing mess on the flight home because Home Alone was on. What is this craziness?

Yep, rash.

I realize now that I acted rashly.

I can hear the water running in the bathroom. Peeking down the hall, I know we’re running out of time. He says, “My point being . . .” Thank God, he’s getting to his point. I’m even stressed she’ll overhear. “I realized early on that it’s not choosing you or me for Natalie. We all have the capacity to love and love big. What Natalie and I have is different than what you two share. Harrison, or whoever you fall in love with, will love you enough to understand we’re not competing. We’re family.”

“That’s why you’ve always welcomed me into your home without a single question. You just opened your heart.”

“Natalie loves you. That means I do too. So you’re not alone. Not ever. But we hope you find the same kind of love that Natalie and I share. I vote for Harrison, but that’s a given. You go where your heart leads you.”

“I think Cookie’s rubbing off on you.”

“I’m okay with that.”

The door opens down the hall, and Natalie’s shoes echo as she returns. “Ugh. My bladder is the size of a peanut. So annoying.” She stops at the entrance to the living room and puts her hands on her hips. “Wow, Nick,” she says to the back of his head. “You couldn’t entertain our guest for two minutes while I was gone?”

With his eyes glued to the TV, he replies, “It’s not a guest. It’s Tatum.”

My heart swells with the feels. I’m not a guest. I’m family. He didn’t have to say it for me to know what he meant.

She sits down next to me again, spinning to face me. “I thought I heard you guys talking.”

Nick says, “Must have been the announcers.” If she only knew what a softie he is. What am I saying? She knows. She married that sweetheart of a man.

Natalie goes over to the back of him and kisses him on the head. To me, she says, “He’s a big lug when sports are on, but he’s my big lug. Before I forget, the cooking class starts next week. Are you still in?”

I don’t have those same interests, but maybe it’s time I learned a new skill. “I’m in.”

“Good. That will be fun.”

Slipping off the stool, I reach down and grab my bag. “I think I’m going home to rest. It’s been a long day already, and you really have me rethinking things.”

Natalie walks with me to the door.

“Good talking to you, Nick.” I have no intention of spoiling his cover, but I will take his advice to heart. After all, they only want the best for me.

He waves over his head, but he never looks back. “Yeah, you, too.”

Grabbing the handle of my suitcase, I roll it to the front door. Before she has a chance to call him for help, Nick’s already coming to carry it down to the sidewalk for me. “Got it.”

I hug Natalie because I realize she’s carried the burden of my happiness since we were kids. She’s the one who stepped in when my parents upset me or, worse, ignored me altogether. It’s time I let her live free from the weight of her worry for me.

“Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she says.

When we step back, I say, “I’m going to be okay.”

“Yes, you are. You’ve always been the strongest person I know.”

“I say that about you.”

We smile at each other, and then I say, “See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

Riding in the back of a car heading home, I pull out my phone. I’ll give Harrison full credit for texting and calling right away. I didn’t expect to see twenty missed calls and more than a handful of texts by the time I landed, but I’m not upset by it.

I’m about to text, but I decide I want to hear his voice and for him to hear mine. There’s no misinterpretation that way. That also means I have to wait to get home. No way am I having this conversation in the back of a rideshare.

I hurry to my apartment as soon as I arrive. My heart is racing, and I’m not sure of the words I should use other than I’m sorry. But I roll my suitcase inside and kick the door closed. With the phone in my hand, I drop my bag on the counter and head for the windows. I need light.