Heat rises in my cheeks and I am not about to let him rewrite this story. “Absolutely fucking not, Seth Carson. Yes, I made a mistake that night—a mistake that I’ve apologized for, by the way—but that is not what’s happening here. We laid the ground rules last night, you could’ve said no. You could’ve turned me away. You sure as fuck didn’t have a problem rejecting me two years ago.”
“Itkilledme to reject you. Not that you gave a shit about my feelings, not then and certainly not after.”
“Oh, you want to talk about the ‘after’? How about how humiliated I was by you turning me away, only for you to show up at my fucking job and try to steal it!” I step closer into his space, the spring of emotions I’ve been trying to hold in for the past few weeks finally gushing to the surface. “If I’m such a terrible person, if you’re still so angry at me, why the hell would you even come here, Seth?”
“Because I still fucking love you, Parker! That’s why. I fell in love with you when we were fourteen and I’ve never stopped. I turned down job offers everywhere—New York,DC, San Francisco—because no matter what I fucking do, I can’t seem to get over you.” The frustration and anger come pouring out, clear in the tension and the volume of his voice, but underneath it, there’s nothing but hurt.
The words bowl me over. His admission is everything I’ve longed to hear, said at the worst possible moment. Because this isn’t just about him, it isn’t just about us, it’s about me. It’s about my career and my future. “Seth, you know how much I have always cared about you, but it is not fair for you to lay this all on me. We talked about our boundaries, we agreed this was a one-night-only situation, what more do you want?”
“I want you.” The words barely come out of his mouth, his jaw is so tightly wound.
“You had me.”
He sucks in a breath at the double punch. “I never wanted to let you go.”
“But you did.” Somehow my voice holds steady. I sound calm and collected, like this night and morning with Seth actually provided me with the closure I’ve been so desperately seeking when I know once I’ve had time to process, the opposite will prove true.
He reaches for my hand and I let him take it. “I don’t want to let you go again, Lana. Jesus, you had to know how I feel. I never stopped loving you.”
I let myself be pulled into his embrace because it feels too good not to. I bury my face in his chest, his hands tangle in my hair, and I breathe in every inch of him.
He lowers his head to kiss me, and I pull away from thewarmth and safety and comfort of his arms before our lips can meet and I forget myself all over again.
I don’t know when the tears started for both of us, but they pour down my cheeks and cloud his eyes.
He drags both hands through his hair. “So, this is it.”
“I never stopped loving you either, Seth. And I know I never will. But I also know I’m not ready yet. I’m not okay on my own. I haven’t figured out who I am without a man to define me.” I know I shouldn’t leave the door open, it’s not fair to him or to me, but I also can’t bring myself to close it fully just yet. “If we’re ever going to do this,reallydo this, I need to take this time for myself.”
His hands fall to his hips and he gives me a solemn nod. “Okay.” He takes a few steps away from me, leaving the path to the hallway clear.
“Okay.” If I don’t walk away now, I never will. I’m halfway to the living room when his voice halts me in my tracks.
“But don’t expect me to wait for you, Parker.” A hint of anger laces through the warning.
I don’t turn around. I don’t want the last image I have of him in my head to be one of spite. Or hurt. I locate the two items of clothing I came with, shimmy into them, and leave without another word.
27
Living by yourself can be lonely at times, and so even though it was sometimes a challenge taking care of these living beings who depend on me for survival, I also found myself depending on them.
—Seth Carson, “When Harry Met Seth”
I pack my bag as soon as I get home. In addition to that last, seemingly insurmountable challenge of learning to be okay on my own, I still have one more task to complete, and the timing couldn’t be better. I throw only the bare essentials into a weekender bag: a few bathing suits, some cotton dresses, shorts, and T-shirts. My laptop and a stack of books are my only luxuries. I make a quick last-minute reservation and am in my car within an hour.
I wait until I arrive in San Clemente and check into my rented beachside condo before I text May, letting her know I’m going to be out of town for a week and avoiding my phone as much as possible. I don’t tell her that I slept with Seth. When I do fill her in, I want to have a better handle on how I feel about it, and that might take me the entire week tofigure out. Fuck, I might need to extend my stay an extra month or two to figure it out.
It’s too late in the afternoon to head out to the beach itself, so I hop in my car and drive to the grocery store, stocking up on all the necessities: carbs, ice cream, and wine. I also buy some frozen meals and some fruit so I don’t, you know, die. As soon as I’ve unloaded all the goods, I pour a glass of wine and head out to the small balcony.
The condo is one street away from the beach itself, but I still have a perfect view of the water and the sunset. I sink into a chair, kicking my feet up on the railing.
And I sit.
And I breathe.
—
The next morning,I sleep in. When I finally roll out of bed, I put on my bathing suit and a cotton dress, grab a book from the top of my stack, and walk down to the coffee shop right across from the beach.
