Out of all that’s passed between us tonight, hearing that I’ve disappointed her is the thing that weighs me down the most. I could fucking kick myself for making her feel that way.
Hattie: NO, I DON’T THINK IT’S THAT. NOT ANYMORE…
I frown at my phone and wait for her to explain.
She’s typing for a while—or typing and deleting for a while—and the longer it takes, the tighter my stomach knots.
Hattie: IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.
My chin notches back.
Me: I don’t understand.
Hattie:
I huff out a breath.
Me: An arched brow emoji?? That’s not helping.
Hattie:
I’LL EXPLAIN.
I wait, rereading her statement.
IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.
IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GIVING AND TAKING.
And I don’t love the lump that’s settling in my gut.
Hattie: IT’S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN AN OFFER AND AN ASK, BECK. IF I ASKED YOU TO MARRY ME, YOU’D SAY YES. BUT WHEN I OFFERED TO GIVE YOU A WAY TO KEEP YOUR FARM, YOU SAID NO.
Hattie: YOU CAN GIVE OTHER PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT, BUT YOU CAN’T ACCEPT FROM OTHERS WHAT YOU WANT.
Sweat breaks out across my back.
Hattie: ESPECIALLY SOMETHING BIG.
I flinch.
Me: I don’t think that’s true.
I fire off the denial, even though this prickling all over my skin says that maybe it is true.
Hattie: HA!
I scowl at the phone, but before I can retort, she texts again.
Hattie: WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST TIME WE FOOLED AROUND? IN THE STORE SHED? YOU GAVE ME A SWEET HAND JOB AND THEN TRIED TO DEMURE WHEN I OFFERED THE SAME TO YOU.
A cough punches through my throat.
Shit.
That was a good afternoon.
But she’s right.
