He used to say that song was about her. Sometimes he’d sing it when they argued. He’d look at her and sing, “I’m married to a hardheaded woman…” in Cat’s high pitched way.
Eventually, he’d wear her down and get his way. And after all their disagreements, she had no regrets. Giving him his way had made her happy, so happy that, overtime, she forgot how to compromise in favor of herself.
“Sometimes I hear him in the silence,” she confessed. “Like just now. I could see him sitting there.”
He followed her gaze to the piano. “What did he say?”
“He was singing.” True concern flashed in his eyes. “Relax. They’re just memories. I’m not seeing ghosts.” Though there had been countless times she wished she could.
“I’m not after your memories, Maggie. You can keep all of them and still have something more.”
“When we were together in your bed, I was thinking of him.”
He noticeably tensed. “At which part?”
“The end. Before I started to cry.”
His shoulders slightly relaxed. “That’s okay.”
No one could be that understanding. “That’s not okay, Ryan. Don’t you see? He’s always with me. I can’t do those things with you without feeling like I’m betraying him.” Betraying both of them… She massaged her temples, feeling the onset of a headache. “It’s unfair to both of you.”
He caught her hand and pulled her to sit on the couch. “Maggie, I want to know you. Your mind, your heart, all of you. And loving someone means accepting every piece of the puzzle. Nash is a part of you, and I accept that. I’d never get upset with you for thinking of him. You have no control over your thoughts. Those memories exist inside of you, and you’re allowed to enjoy them whenever you want.”
It was a relief to hear him say such things, because she’d been struggling with her guilt but his acknowledgement wasn’t enough. “The first time we kissed, I cried. The first time we fooled around, I cried. That isn’t normal.”
“People cry. Intimacy is emotional. The fact that it’s hitting a cord with you, only tells me you’re feeling things as deeply as I am. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”
She shook her head. How could she know? She’d only ever been with Nash.
He took her hand and lifted it, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “Sweetheart, I’ve never felt this kind of connection with anyone else, and I’ve been dating since I was fifteen. I know you’re scared, but as your friend, I must tell you, letting this slip away is a huge mistake. We have something together. And it’s not one-sided.”
Her belly turned and twisted. She knew it wasn’t one-sided, but Ryan had more experience. He was so confident and collected all the time. She was a basket case, more so when she stood next to someone so flawless.
“Wouldn’t you rather be with someone who—”
“No. I only want to be with you.”
“But—”
“No.”
She smirked. “You’re not letting me—”
“Because the answer’s no. It’s you or nothing.”
She shook her head and blurted, “You want someone who’s going to cry during sex?”
“No, but I want someone who shares a connection with me so deeply that when I make love to her it puts tears in her eyes.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap. “You have an answer for everything.”
“One way to shut me up.”
She looked at him and her cheeks pulled into a smile at the sight of his challenging boyish grin. Everything about him attracted her, so much so it terrified her.
She hadn’t wanted anything for years as some sort of trade off, a bargaining chip that might turn back time and return her to the past. An impossibility she spent a long time trying to accept, but she was finally facing the truth that Nash was never coming back, and she had many years of her life to still live.
But sometimes, closing things away hurt. Same as the boxes she’d sealed up and carried to the shed pained her heart, the memories that played in her mind had become intangible pieces of furniture in an emotional home. They were familiar, but she’d lived with them long enough.
Part of her wanted to feel something new. That meant coming out of her shell and risking vulnerability. Her heart was a fragile, tattered piece of tissue, and she protected it fiercely. The question was, would Ryan be just as protective, knowing how easily she could break? She believed he would.
Her gaze shifted to his lips and back to his eyes. Could she?
The desire was there but equaled in fear. Every time she attempted intimacy she was met with a side of herself she didn’t like. A broken, weak side that needed more time and part of her was tired of waiting. Maybe it would be easier if she just pushed through the pain, blindly trusting she’d live through the experience, no matter how much it felt like dying.