Again.
Because, apparently, I’d been causing Sadie heartache for months, before she even ghosted me. I’d been the guy that led her on and lefther disappointed. The angry superiority I had when I thought it was just some asshole, only to discover I was the asshole.
Fuckboy Lawyer.
Why was that nickname such a blow to my ego? It rubbed at something sore; a bruise I couldn’t stop poking at now that I was aware of it. Not that I had a defense against being called that. What was I if not a lawyer and a fuckboy? Pathetic.
That could have been my problem with it. Or, it could have been how frivolous it made me to her. And yet, that was exactly what I’d told her we were. I held to that energy just enough to protect me while stringing her along. Building just enough comfort for her to grow feelings, only to run at the first signs of my own emotions. Leaving her to deal with the fallout of my ineptitude.
Fuckboy Lawyer . . .
What a motherfucker.
My phone buzzed with a text from June stating,We’re gonna skip the dance with you and Sadie at the reception.
It sealed my fate that at some point yesterday I’d had my last touch of Sadie. Some stolen, hidden point of contact had been the last time, and I hadn’t even known it. It was fucking devastating.
“Hey,” Derrik called from behind me, and I tensed more because I wasn’t prepared to socialize than the sound of his voice.
I lifted my mug in greeting not taking my eyes off the quiet water.
He dragged a beach chair near me before sitting in it, resting his forearms on his thighs. To my relief, he didn’t immediately begin talking. As if he was letting me try companionship on and adjust the fit to something close to comfortable. Down the path, a toddler squealed and a gray-haired woman in a crew neck sweatshirt beamed down at the little kid.
“How you doin’, man?” Derrikasked.
I shifted my shoulders, attempting to release the tension there. It was no use, I was twisted tighter than I had been before my massage yesterday morning. “Fine.”
“I heard about you and Sadie. Why didn’t you say something?”
My eyebrows pinched together, confused why he sounded pleased.
“If you had told me you were into her, I would’ve taken a step back,” he explained. “It’s okay that she likes you. I wish you’d told me, but I’m happy for you. It’s a little embarrassing that you let me go on about how hot she is, but whatever.”
“She didn’t want anyone to know,” I said simply, not that it actually explained anything.
“Why not?”
A muscle twitched in my jaw as my teeth clenched.
“Nah, really,” he pressed, “did she just not want to take attention from June and Mike?”
I shook my head. “There’s history.”
I almost rolled my eyes at myself—what a clean way to sum up my bullshit.
“Yeah, you guys dated or something, right?”
“Or something.”
“I thought it wasn’t like that anymore, at least that was the impression I got when I talked to Mike this morning. He seemed to think that it was real, ya know, love for you two.”
Exhaling, I kept my face from crumbling as the four-letter word pressed on a different wound than her nickname for me, but the two sore spots sat side-by-side. She’d said it. And I hadn’t said it back.
I felt him consider me, but I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead.
“I’m kinda surprised to see you looking so...morose. Are you freaked out about commitment?” When I didn’t answer right away,he went on, “She’s the woman, right? The one that has you stepping out of your comfort zone and shit.”
I nodded one jerky up and down of my chin.
