“We really were on our worst behavior, huh?”
“Diabolical behavior, really.” A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, warming me from the inside out. “I didn’t mean any of it, Griffin,” I say in a low voice. “I know you weren’t throwing anything in my face. And I know you weren’t using me.” His hand twitches like it might reach for mine, but stays where it’s rested on the oak finished table. “And I’m happy for you, truly. You deserve to be happy.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, darlin’. You and I are okay. You and I will always be okay.”
“Do you think,” I start, anxiously chewing on my bottom lip. “Do you think we could be friends? I know things will never be like they used to, but I hate not having you in my life.”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Eleanor Turner,” he says, the sweet words leaving a bitter taste in my mouth because that’s not true. I want him to be mine. But that’s not fair of me. He has a completely separate life now, and a woman who doesn’t change her mind or run away.
“Friends, then,” I say with a smile. “Unless Madison isn’t okay with that, I totally get not wanting your partner to be buddy-buddy with his ex.”
“Madison and I broke up this morning,” he responds simply, shrugging his shoulders. He said it the same way you might say you went to the dentist or gave the dog a bath–like it’s no big deal. Some mundane, minor detail as opposed to the end of a long-term relationship.
“Wait, huh?” My jaw falls open, and I stare at him dumbly, waiting for additional information. When none comes, I ask, “Is it because of last night? I can talk to her, I’ll clear the air. This is all my fault, I’m such a psychotic bitch when I get drunk.”
“Hey, don’t talk about my girl like that.”
His girl.
I blink rapidly, at a complete loss for words after his slip of the tongue. It’s something he used to say all the time when I was hard on myself. Old habits die hard, I guess.
“I’m serious, Griffin,” I plead. “Let me call her and explain. You didn’t need to break up because I threw a tantrum.”
“We didn’t break up because of that, darlin’.” This time, his hand does find mine, gripping it reassuringly.
“Really?” I frown in confusion. “ It wasn’t because of me?”
“Oh, it was definitely because of you.” His hand leaves mine, and he tilts his chair back, locking his hands behind his head with a smile the size of Texas blooming acrosshis face. “But not because of the bar. We just came to the conclusion that no one is ever going to be you, and I need to stop pretending like that’s ever going to change.” He purses his lips pensively. “Well, she figured it out way before I did. But she helped me get there.”
My jaw drops. What does that mean? The difference between his words and his demeanor is short-circuiting my brain. “So you definitely broke up because of me,” I repeat back slowly. “Why are you acting like that’s a good thing?”
“Because, darlin’,” his voice shaky from holding back laughter. “It’s such a damn relief to not have to pretend like you aren’t the only girl I’m ever going to love.”
Going to love. Not loved, past-tense. Going to, future, future-tense.
“I don’t really know what to say to that, Griffin.” I’m beyond bewildered.
“Ahhh, I love keeping you on your toes,” he sighs, shaking his head. I scowl at him, and he laughs loudly. “You’re so damn cute when you’re annoyed with me.”
“Can you quit making fun of me? I had things I wanted to say, Griffin.”
He sobers up, setting all four chair legs back on the floor. “I’m not making fun of you, Eleanor. I mean it. But I’m sorry, please continue.”
“Thank you,” I huff. “As I was saying, I really am sorry for what I said. For everything I’ve said, for every time I strung you along, for every selfish decision that hurt you.” He nods silently, the look in his eyes encouraging me to continue.
“I was a mess. Not just with you, but with my whole life.” He opens his mouth to argue, but I do it for him. “Well, not a mess. I was doing the best I could with what I had. I have better words for the way I feel sometimes now.”
Something like pride gleams in his eyes, and I avert my gaze before the emotion wells up. “But it doesn’t change that those feelings made my actions hurtful, especially with you. And I’ve never truly apologized for that. I wasn’t a mess, but I sure was good at making them. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorrier than you could ever know.”
“I won’t minimize your apology by saying you didn’t need to do that, but I will accept it. I forgive you, Eleanor. And no mess you’ve ever made has ever made me love you any less.”
I can’t stop the well of emotion in my waterline now. Even now, knowing what I know and hearing the words from his mouth, I’m still tempted to argue and tell him in great detail exactly why he should hate me. But I am so tired of beating myself up.
Maybe Kelsi really is right. Maybe it would be so much easier to let people prove me wrong–to just get out of my own way and let them love me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, fighting tooth and nail to keep the tears from spilling over. “You’ve always been so much kinder to me than I am to myself. I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“If you’re not gonna do it for yourself, someone has to,” he murmurs, taking my hand in his again and bringing it to his mouth to swipe a gentle kiss across my knuckles. “No matter what, Eleanor. Together or not, in the same state or thousands of miles apart, even if we go another five years without speaking–I will never stop being a kind voice in your life.”
