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She nods and heads to the kitchen. I test my legs, moving them a few steps into the front room before collapsing onto the sofa.
When she comes back in, she takes a spot next to me and passes me a tissue before putting the drink on the coffee table.
“Thanks.” I wipe my eyes and blow my nose.
“Do you need a meeting?”
“No. But I do want to talk to you. Tell you want’s been happening.”
She fidgets, and I know she’s uncomfortable. But that makes both of us.
I tell her about the first time I saw Jeremy. And the second. And that with each time, I could feel myself growing weaker.
She listens. She doesn’t speak or interrupt me, and I’m grateful.
“And now, after letting myself be drawn in, he’s abandoned me. He said he needs to get better, and I’m left the fool. He’s my weakness. But he owns my heart.” I look up at her, the image still blurry.
“Sweetheart, he doesn’t control you.”
“Logically, I know that, but it’s hard. And I want to have what we had — that feeling that anything was possible. I don’t want to settle for less. Why should I?”
“So, Reece?”
“Is a jerk that only saw me as a junky as soon as I told him about my past.”
When I tell her that, she shuffles down the sofa and pulls me into a hug, which I gladly lean into. “Jeremy is bad for you, baby. It might feel like he lights up your sky, but that’s only temporary. It’s not permanent; it’s like a shooting star.”
I don’t answer her because I don’t want to lie. We’re bad for each other, but it doesn’t dismiss my feelings.
“What was it like with you and Dad? I was too small to remember that much.” We never talk about Dad, but perhaps I need a sphere of reference to help me understand Jeremy and my feelings.
“Sometimes. When we were younger, it was magical. Maybe not as all-consuming as you and Jeremy. I thought we wanted the same things. But we grew in different directions and, in the end, wanted different things. At least, that’s the way I choose to remember it. You and Jeremy might be exciting, but you need to have someone dependable. Someone who will be there for you.”
“Well, he’s gone now. So, it doesn’t matter. I’ve learned my lesson.” I squeeze my eyes shut as if that might help keep out the darkness, like when you were a child hiding from monsters in your cupboard, because I hate that my feelings for him were so easy to spark back to life.
Just like that damn shooting star.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Three years later
“Oh my god. I’m stuffed. I couldn’t eat another thing.”
“Well, it’s nice to indulge once in a while. And we’re celebrating.”
I look over at Marty and smile. “Yes, we are. Thank you.”
He lifts his sparkling virgin cocktail to me, and I raise mine to clink. “You’ll be amazing, Anna. I know it. You can do whatever you want. You just need to put your mind to it.” He looks at me but holds my gaze for a few extra seconds, and I get a buzz of something in the air as if things just shifted. “You’re special, you know that. To me.” His eyes search mine, but all I feel is panic.
I sit back and push my chair out. “Just going to use the bathroom.” I escape and rush to the sanctity of the ladies’ room.
“No, no, no…” I repeat as I enter and stare at myself in the mirror.
Marty was one of my best friends, possibly even my best friend, now that Sammy had moved away to chase her dreams. We still spoke and saw each other, but Marty worked at the same company as I did, and the proximity made the friendship stronger.
But that’s all we were. We were friends out celebrating my promotion, nothing more. There had never been even an inkling that he felt any other way until tonight.
I could be wrong, and the way he looked at me while saying those words could have been genuine friendship. But he’s never looked at me like that. And now I’m freaking out because that’s not how I feel about Marty. I wish it were. God, it would be so easy if it were.
