“Nah, left town. To visit her sister.”
“Ah, okay. So you’re a free man this weekend.”
Despite her assurances that we were no longer on thespecial-friendstrack, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was still running from me, that the prospect of being together had her shaking in her boots. I didn’t like it. “I’m a free man every day,” I mused.
Pops stopped walking and pointed at a nearby bench. “Have a seat.”
A moment later, I joined him on the bench. We sat and watched the passersby as they hurried to their destinations. Most of the students had gone home for the summer, and campus was pretty quiet. To my right, a tour guide was leading a group of high school students through the courtyard. A group of friends were skateboarding, oblivious to everything except their course.
One of my students shouted, “Hey, Professor Lennox!” She walked over to us. “I signed up for one of your classes this fall.”
“That’s good. Be prepared to work, Maia. It’s not going to be easy.”
She laughed. “I know, I know. But I’m excited.”
We talked about summer reading material for a few minutes and I recommended a lecture series she might enjoy.
When she walked off, my father chuckled. “You were always so focused on your end game, whether you were building something with your Legos, finishing a science project, competing in a karate tournament, or even playing video games.”
I smiled to myself, thinking about one particular conversation we’d had about my inability to have fun. I must’ve been six or seven years old when my parents sat me down and told me I had to quit reading club to play baseball on the youth league. My little ass had been heated, but I’d ended up having fun. That was the summer I’d met Vaughn. That was also the summer I’d discovered girls weren’t disgusting.
“I’ve watched you with Blake,” he continued. “You were focused on her too. And I told your mother…she’s the one.”
I met his gaze. “You got all that from a Sunday dinner?”
“I know you. Besides, it’s in your eyes. I recognize the look, because I see it every day in the mirror. You’re just like me. Quiet, intelligent, determined…”
“I don’t agree that you’re quiet, though.”
My father’s low chuckle settled something in me. He had a way of centering me. “I’m quiet when I need to be. I also watched the way you two interacted with each other, the way she makes you laugh, the way you let her be who she is. I felt it, because that’s what your mother and I do for each other. You love her.”
Dropping my gaze, I nodded. “I do.”
“So what’s the problem?”
My parents had married at the age of twenty, against everyone’s wishes. And they’d been supporting each other through everything since. Their example was inspiring, but it felt impossible for me right now.
I hunched a shoulder. “She’s not ready. She has this idea in her head that she can’t be who she is within a relationship.”
“That’s not true.”
“I know that, but she doesn’t. I thought we were moving toward the same destination, but when she left…I don’t feel good about it.”
He nodded. “Have you talked to her?”
“Yeah.” The few brief conversations had cemented the feeling in my gut that something was off between us. There was no substance in the interactions. We’d only talked about surface things, and that was a deliberate choice—on her part. “She’s scared. What am I supposed to do with that?”
“If she’s scared, then you have to be her safe place. Eventually, the fear won’t dictate her choice, because she’ll know you’re steady, that you’re going to love her through her mess. No relationship is perfect, but it can be pretty damn close if both of you are committed to it.”
“And if she doesn’t let me love her through it, how do I justify hanging on? At some point, I’ll resent her.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “If you love her, then you loveher. Have a conversation with her, son. Talk it out. Trust me, it’s worth it.”
I thought about my father’s words. I loved Blake; I loved everything about her. And I couldn’t let her go without a fight. “Thanks, Pops.”
Standing, he glanced back at me. “You know I’m always hear to listen—and tell you when you’re wrong. I’d better get back to the office, though. I have a client meeting in an hour.”
We headed back to my building, discussing the upcoming NBA playoffs. When we arrived, I noticed several students running out the doors. I scanned the immediate area. People had started to gather outside. “What’s going on?” I asked no one in particular.
