She set the dresses down on an armchair in the corner and sank down on the foot of the bed. “And you regret it?”
“No.” It was hard to explain how I felt. “I’m just… confused.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
I rolled onto my side, facing my sister, as I propped my head in my hand. “How can he? I don’t even know how I feel.”
She squeezed my calf. “Honey, you have a lot of history with that man. It’s natural to be confused now that he’s back in your life.”
“He’s different, sis.”
“He told you he’s changed?”
“No, I see it, I feel it.” I knew I wasn’t doing a very good job of articulating my experience with Mav, but I was still working through it myself. “When we were together it felt different, but the same. If that makes sense.”
She nodded. “I think it does. You were both kids when you dated. You’ve been through hell and back and I’m sure he has too.”
“Maybe it’s because I can relate to him, to what he’s going through.” It wasn’t easy to define the way I’d always felt with Mav, but I felt more connected to him than any man I’d ever met. “I mean, we didn’t grow up in a house of horrors, like he did. But it wasn’t easy, with Mama working so hard to put food on the table and no daddy around.”
“No, it wasn’t easy,” Grace said, plucking a thread on my white duvet cover. “But she raised us to be strong women and I’m grateful for that.”
“Me too.”
I was reluctant to share my deepest, darkest fears, even with my sister, but I knew she could help me work through them in a way even my therapist hadn’t been able to because Grace and I had grown up in the same house, hearing the same warnings about men.
“But do you think sometimes I’m too strong, too independent?” My ex-boyfriend, in the heat of a nasty argument accused me of being an island, claiming I was emotionally cut-off and liked it that way. Re-connecting with Mav made me wonder if maybe he was right.
“Is there such a thing?” Grace asked, raising an arched brow.
“I don’t know. Don’t men like a little vulnerability? Knowing that their woman needs them… sometimes.”
“Are you Mav’s woman now?”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not in eighth-grade, Gracie. He didn’t give me a fake ring and ask me to be his girlfriend.”
She laughed. “But if you slept with him, I’m pretty sure he made that assumption. It would be pretty hard for y’all to have casual sex, given your history.”
It definitely didn’t feel casual. It felt intense. Too intense. And that’s what scared me off. “I kinda shut down after sex and he called me out on it.”
“Good for him,” Grace said, with a slight smile. “Most men would just bail or sulk. The fact that he wanted to talk about it tells me that he’s mature enough to know a solid relationship requires communication.”
“I guess.” I rolled on my back, staring up at the ceiling. “But I blew him off, or tried to. What does that say about me?”
“That you’re scared of being hurt again?” she asked, reaching for my hand.
My voice broke when I whispered, “Terrified.”
“Aww, hon. Everybody’s scared when it comes to loving somebody. But given the way things ended with you and Mav the first time, you have every right to be cautious. And if something does feel right, tell him.”
“I don’t know if I can do this.” I cleared my throat, trying to be strong. How many times did my mama tell me to dry my damn tears, after Mav and I broke up, and get on with my own life? Too many to count. That taught me to be ashamed of my anguish, and never let another man break me again.
“Hey, you’re the strongest woman I know,” Grace said. “And that’s saying a hell of a lot because… Mama.”
We shared a smile. Our Mama was a pistol, but there was an underlying fear that prevented her from giving her heart to another man after her husband left her alone with two babies to raise. I didn’t want to be someone who let fear dictate my life.
“But am I strong enough to love Mav again?”
“Only you can answer that, Codie.”
