Sandy - Vested Interest

Today, her leg swung as she waited, and her fingers drummed on her knee. I knew how high her anxiety was as I approached. I sat beside her, offering her the sandwich and iced tea I had brought her.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” I said. “The deli was busy.”

“I can’t go with you to Van’s wedding,” she blurted out.

I paused in unwrapping my sandwich. That wasn’t what I had expected her to say—but it was as good a place to start as anywhere, I supposed. I put the sandwich back in the bag, my appetite gone.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Does it matter?”

“To me, yes.”

“I can’t have people thinking we’re a couple. I don’t want to disappoint Van, so I will attend, at least for the ceremony, but I’ll be going on my own.”

Disappointment flooded my chest, but something in her voice made me pause. She sounded regretful, as if the decision caused her pain. I needed her to open up to me. We could work this out together.

I turned to face her fully, ready to battle this out with her. “Odd, I thought we were a couple. You certainly acted that way this past weekend.”

“This weekend was wonderful, but it can’t happen again.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m don’t want…this.” She waved her hand between us, the gesture dismissive and upsetting.

“What are you talking about? We had an amazing time being together. What changed?” I asked, mystified.

“I’m not ready to be a couple again.”

“We felt like a couple on the weekend,” I repeated. “Very much so.” I angled my head to the side, watching her closely, my voice rough as my anger built. Her eyes were blank, the spark I liked so much missing again. “Or is that it, Sandy? We’re a couple only when you decide we are? Was this weekend just a little side trip from real life? Scratching an itch, so to speak?”

If possible, her skin became paler—almost a sickly white. “No, it wasn’t like that. You know me better than that.”

“I thought I did.” I cleared my throat. “Then what are you saying?”

“I can’t do this, Jordan.” She waved her hand back and forth between us again. “I’m not ready. I’m sorry, I thought I was, but I’m not. I can’t be in a relationship with you.”

My heart plummeted, but I tried to remain calm. “What changed?” I asked again. “You seemed happy this weekend.”

“I was—I mean, I thought I was, but then I went home, and I realized that it was a mistake.”

“A mistake,” I repeated, hating that word.

“Yes. I got caught up.”

“In?” I let the word hang, pain lancing through my chest as she kept talking.

“In you. In the possibility of an us.”

I wanted to grab her, shake some sense into her, and get her to stop this craziness. “It was more than a possibility. I thought it was a fact.”

“No.” She shook her head furiously. “I’m not over Max’s death yet. I’m not ready to move on.”

I didn’t want to let her go. I needed to reach her, to make her understand I would be there for her and help her through this. I stretched out my hand to touch her, to let her feel I was right there.

“I know this is hard. I understand—I really do. But, Sandy, my darling girl—”

I didn’t get any farther. She jumped to her feet. “Don’t call me that!”

I blinked at her vehemence.

“I was ‘my girl’ to Max—that was his name!”

I held out my hand. “I’m sorry. It slipped out. Sit down and we’ll talk this out.”

“There is nothing to talk about. I told you I can’t do this.”

“And I have no say in the matter?”

“No, you don’t. You’re ready, I’m not. I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“Don’t say that. You have too much love to give. You’re too wonderful to live the rest of your life alone.”

“I wish people would stop saying that. Stop telling me how to live my life. I do just fine on my own.” She almost snarled in her anger. “Max was ill for so long, I had to do everything on my own. So, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“But I do.”

She brushed off her skirt. “I can’t do this, Jordan. Not now. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I regret that more than anything else. But I can’t be with you when I’m still in love with my husband.”

I had to say it. I stood and met her eyes.

“Your husband is dead.”

Her eyes grew round and filled with tears. “I know that.”

“Yet, you act as if you’re betraying him.”

“I slept with you.”

“Yes, you did. And I slept with you. I thought it was only us in that room, but I guess Max was there as well. Ghosts do that if we let them. Hang around.”

“You’re a horrible man.”

“No, I’m a hurt one. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I am. I thought you were on the same page I was, but I was obviously wrong. I misjudged what we had. What we felt.”