The silence descends around us again as we sit in the corner—my sweet delicacy and his plain black coffee steaming on the table between us.
“Are you okay, Joss?” Eric asks, and there’s true concern in his voice. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by asking you to grab coffee.”
My head snaps up and our eyes catch, holding like two magnets, unable to break apart. I wonder what he sees in mine now.
“No, Eric, you didn’t. I’m sorry. My head is somewhere else this morning.”
“I kind of noticed.” He chuckles uncomfortably. “I said your name two or three times before you finally heard me on the sidewalk. Do you… Do you want to talk about it?”
Do I want to talk about it—my parents, Wes—with Eric? How many times did he ask me a question just like this, only for me to tell him there was nothing to talk about. That I was fine.
“It’s been a rough couple of days,” I decide to say. “My parents are in town.” I can’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out.
He looks shocked that I actually offered something up, but he recovers quickly. “Your parents? I didn’t think they were in the picture.”
I scoff. That’s the understatement of the century.
“Yeah, they aren’t. Weren’t. It’s kind of a mess.” I chew on my lip. I don’t have any intention of sharing the whole story, all the nitty gritty details. If I didn’t want to share it with him when he was my boyfriend, there shouldn’t be any reason to start now.
And yet, as I take fortifying sips of my coffee, that is exactly what I find myself doing. Not all of it, and not about Wes, but enough for him to be stunned into silence by the time I’ve finished.
“Wow. That is kind of a mess. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.” The words are sincere, not a hint of pity behind them.
“Not your fault. Sorry I just dumped all that on you. I don’t know what I was thinking.” God, I’m mortified. I move to stand, ready to bolt, when he places a hand over mine on the table.
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m glad you did. I just…” He clears his throat before continuing, his eyes searching my face. “I just wish you would have told me while we were together. All those times I asked about your family, you just shut me out.”
I open my mouth, ready to defend myself, but he holds up a hand to stop me.
“I’m not blaming you. It was your story to tell, and you weren’t ready. I get that. I just hate that you were holding it all while I was clueless to the pain you were in.”
I take a deep breath, letting go of the defensiveness as I exhale. “You’re right, I wasn’t ready. And you were right when you said I never let you in. I’m sorry for that. I didn’t see the point of dredging up the past when it could just as easily be left there. Why would I want to dump my own crap onto someone else when I could just deal with it myself?”
“Joss, no. You do it because youshouldn’thave to deal with it by yourself. You do it because the other person wants to know you. That’s all I ever wanted. I just wanted to know the real you.”
There’s a sting behind my eyes at the honesty in his words. He says them with care, without a hint of harshness, but they cut deep. He’s right. Jaz was right. And didn’t Wes say the same thing to me just yesterday?
I am willing to share the burdenifyou want me to.
But I’ve never wanted to. I’ve always kept all my pain, all my hurt, to myself. Afraid that if I shared it with someone else, they would choose to leave. Protecting my heart became the reason people didn’t stay. How did I never see it? How did I not see that my keeping others at arm’s length was the thing hurting my relationships?
A tear slides down my cheek and I swipe it away, embarrassed. Eric has never seen me cry.
“Hey.” His tone softens. “I’m sorry, maybe that was too harsh.”
“No, no. It wasn’t. God, I’m sorry. This is so embarrassing.”
“Having feelings is nothing to be embarrassed about, Joss. They’re what make us human.”
My watery eyes search out his, and I catch how wet they look behind his glasses. It hits me that I never saw him cry either, that he might’ve kept his emotions in check because I always did. I feel the burn of shame at the realization that I missed out on getting to know this kind man.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you, Eric. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be what you needed. I really hope that you find what you’re looking for, that you’re happy now.”
He wipes under his eyes and sniffs, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable with this show of emotion. He actually smiles. “Thanks, Joss. I am happy. Really happy actually. I, uh, met someone. We just moved in together.”
He looks away, like he’s afraid of how I’ll take the news. But all I feel is glad that he’s found someone to make him happy. It’s also not lost on me that the words on the tip of my tongue are to tell him that I found someone too, but I can’t do that. I can’t claim Wes that way.
I smile for Eric, even though my heart has never felt so bruised and battered. I yearn for Wes, even though I know I don’t deserve his kindness. Not after pushing him away.
