“I tried to talk to my dad about the affair, and it didn’t go over well. The way he acted… it reminded me of the way Kevin used to treat me.”
“Yeah?”
“And the way you treated me,” I said quietly.
Derek was silent for a moment.
“When things were bad between us?” he finally asked.
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“That wasn’t why I brought it up,” I said, frustrated. “I just meant that… I think I went out and found guys who treated me the way I expected to be treated by men, because my dad kind of trained me to expect it.”
“Wow. You really
did
do some therapy.”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“I treated you okay back then, didn’t I? Four years ago?”
“Yes. Yes, you were… you were wonderful,” I said wistfully – and a little guiltily. I couldn’t imagine that Ryan would be okay with overhearing me say it.
“But I did treat you pretty badly the last few weeks of the tour.”
“…yeah.”
He nodded as he stared out into the distance. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to keep saying that.”
“I just want you to know that I realize I was really fucked up, and that when I say I’m sorry, I mean it.”
“I know you do.”
We were silent for a little while longer, and my heart ached in that silence.
“Do you remember what else we talked about that night?” he asked.
“I just remember… you tried to kiss me.”
“I did. Do you remember why you wouldn’t?”
“Because I had a boyfriend.”
“Uh-huh. And do you remember what I asked you about him?”
I honestly didn’t. “No.”
“I asked you if you were in love with him.”
Like a flash, it all came back:
Do you love him?
I… yes.
Are you IN love with him?
It’s the same thing.
No, it’s not. You can love somebody and care about them deeply… but being in love with somebody is your heart skipping a beat when they walk in the room.
Suddenly, fear coursed through my veins. My heart started pounding. I stood up straight and walked away from the car.
It wasn’t fear of violence or of being attacked.
It was the fear that I had suddenly found myself in a situation I didn’t want to be in:
Being seduced.
The parallels between four years ago and now – they were too close.
If I didn’t know better, I would have said he had been plotting this.
That he had been planning this entire evening just to lead up to now.
“I want to go,” I announced in a shaky voice.
“Not before I ask you the same question as four years ago.”
That was when he stood up, and I knew all my fears were justified.
There was a total shift in the way he looked at me, in the way he moved. It was like he had been wearing a costume the entire evening and now he had thrown it off. Sexuality radiated from him in waves. His eyes locked on mine with a hypnotic stare; I could see the light glinting off them in the darkness.
All the feelings I’d ever had around him – all the attraction, all the sexual longing – suddenly surged through me. My body reacted in ways I didn’t want. I could feel the skin on my neck flushing. My nipples hardened. I could feel a warmth between my legs, and the first beginnings of wetness.
“I want to – ”
“Do you love him?” he interrupted.
“You lied,” I whispered angrily. “You’ve been lying this whole time.”
“No I didn’t. I went through rehab. I went through therapy. I went through all my shit, and I realized I’ve fucked up over and over my entire life – but the worst thing I ever did was not treating you right, not treating you the way you deserved. And I swore to myself that when I got out, I would make that right. That I would get you back, and show you that I love you, and that I’ll never do those bad things again.”
I was shaking. Those words… they pierced straight through me, down into my soul.
But I was still angry, and that was what I hung onto. That was
all
I had to hang onto.
“You lied to me about coming out here tonight,” I seethed.
“No I didn’t.”
“You said you wanted to bury the past.”
“And that’s true. I want to bury all those bad things I did to you, and all the anger and hurt that you felt because I treated you wrong. I needed to do that so you and I can start over again.”
“Why did you take me all those places?”
“To make you remember what we had. What we
still
have.”
“No you didn’t! You brought me out here to try and seduce me!”
“I brought you out here to tell you I love you, and that I never stopped loving you.”
My heart cracked a tiny bit when he said that. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
But I didn’t entirely believe him.
“Why did you sleep with her, then?” I asked, my voice unsteady.
His shoulders slumped, and he suddenly looked helpless and very, very weary. “Because I was an idiot.”
“That’s not good enough,” I said, suddenly angry.
“Why did you sleep with her?”
He stared off into the night, as though gathering his resolve – and then he looked back at me, as though he was finally tired of running.
“Because I hadn’t forgiven you for what happened four years ago. That was why I was such an asshole the last couple of weeks of the tour, although I didn’t realize it at the time: I was punishing you for hurting me. Once the newness of having you wore off, all the old feelings of resentment started to come back up to the surface. And because I had never had a girlfriend before, and it was driving me crazy not doing what I wanted,
when
I wanted. And because I was immature enough that I thought I should be able to do whatever I wanted and nobody should call me on my shit. And since you’d broken my heart, I figured that justified everything. Plus… we weren’t getting along – I know, I know, it was because of me, I know – and I felt trapped, and…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “Do I have to go on? It’s basically just variations on me being a self-centered dick.”