Page 82 of All Our Almosts

“Why not?”

I push some food around on my plate. “I guess I’m a city girl like my mom. The farm just felt… claustrophobic somehow? Which doesn’t really make sense because on a farm there’s nothing but space. But like… emotionally claustrophobic?” I take a bite, then say around it, “I probably sound insane right now.”

Andy doesn’t reply, but the look in his eyes says he finds my explanation both reasonable and interesting. Though maybe that’s my wishful thinking. I am in love with the guy, after all.

Before I can start spiraling about that particular fact, I start rambling again.

“That was a big part of why my parents got a divorce. My mom moved to the farm because she loved my dad and wanted him to have the life he was dreaming of—’cause he inherited the land from his dad and on and on for a few generations—but it was never right for her. She was going for the ‘love conquers all’ thing, but in the end it just wasn’t enough. I know she resented my dad for it, even though it was her own choice.”

“Your mom’s happier in Minneapolis now?”

“Much. And I’m happy for her. But my dad… I don’t know if he’ll ever get over it. It seems like he regrets everything about the last 30 years of his life.”

With that, I look up at the man across the table from me, the one I know I could never get over—have never gotten over in all of these years of trying.

I notice the small things that have changed in the time I’ve known him. The crease in his brow that’s a bit deeper, the tiniest number of gray hairs starting to appear at his temples—though you wouldn’t notice them unless you were really looking. The same soft intensity he’s always had, though. The same rare, genuine smile that cracks my chest wide open.

“That can’t be true,” Andy says. “You’ve been around for 26 of those years, and I don’t think anyone could regret you.”

It’s not elaborate or poetic or effusive. It’s such a simple statement. But in that moment, the love I feel for him is so intense that it aches. My happiness is so wild that it defies itself and leaves me devastated. Because I love him, I really do. But I’m not naive. If life has taught me anything, it’s that I’m better at loving others than being loved.

My parents love me, but it wasn’t enough to keep them together. My exes loved me—at least they claimed to—but never enough to make it work. And Andy… well, I know he loves me too. He certainly loves me as a friend. He’s a great friend. And I can’t deny he seems to like having sex with me…

Does it make me ungrateful to want more?

My traitorous brain pulls forward all the things I’ve done that he hasn’t. I asked to move in with him. I asked if we could be more than friends. I suggested we go on a date, and sleep together. I told him I love him while he was inside me, and the absence of his response throbs like a phantom limb.

I could beg him to explain what he’s thinking now—about me, about us—but I can’t quite face the present yet. It’s easier to start with the past.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

I reach up to touch my earlobe, the red gem hanging there. “Why did you give me these earrings?”

Andy cocks his head to the side, obviously confused by the question. “For graduation…?”

I already know that much, obviously, but it’s not what I’m asking. Since the day I got them, I’ve always wondered if the gesture meant as much to Andy as it did to me.

He gave them to me during my and Lia’s last week of college, the night of our senior formal. We invited the other half of NASA as our “dates” so we could all enjoy the event together, since Andy and Nolan graduated the year prior. Of course, I brought Nolan and Lia brought Andy—there was no way Lia was bringing her brother as a date, even in the most nominal way. And I was mid-prep, mascara wand in hand, when I heard a knock on my dorm room door.

“Come in!”

Andy poked his head around the door. “Hi.”

“Hi! I didn’t hear you guys arrive.” I gestured for him to enter. “Make yourself at home, I still have to do my makeup.”

“You’re wearing red.”

“Yes…” I quirked a brow in his direction. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, no it’s good,” Andy replied, seeming distracted or maybe nervous. “I… um… got you a graduation present.”

“Really?” I asked, putting the mascara wand back in its tube and turning to face him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he shrugged. “And moreover, I didn’t get anything for Lia so don’t tell her.”

I laughed, then covered my mouth, realizing I had to be quiet with Lia in the next room. “Okay, what is it?”