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“Okay, fine, but you’d better take notes, because this is crucial stuff,” Ashley proclaimed. “So, the penile defense system is when a guy’s got it for you bad, but for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to want you. So he pushes you away. In other words,” Ashley said, scooting over so Coco could claim her favorite corner of the love seat, “Cain is rejecting you before you can reject him. And the fact that he’s doing it in such a blunt manner means he’s got it bad.
“My theory?” Ashley continued, brushing her fingertips together to get rid of the brightly colored crumbs. “As much as Cain wants to convince you that he’s a bad guy, I think deep down he’s a bit of a straight arrow. He’s got a code of conduct he won’t breach.”
“Um, I really don’t think so,” Violet said, shaking her head. “I’ve spent a lot of time with the guy, and nothing about him screams rule follower. And besides, what rule could he possibly think he’s breaking?”
Ashley gave her a patient look. “The one where you don’t steal another guy’s woman. Isn’t it obvious, sweetie? He’s not going to put himself out there, not as long as he thinks you belong to Keith.”
* * *
Violet had known for a while now that her romantic history was on the slim side compared to others her age. She’d had a couple of crushes in high school, had gone to prom with a nice boy named Sam, but hadn’t actually truly had a boyfriend until she’d gone to college. First Michael, who’d ended things when he’d transferred after freshman year. And then Erik, who’d been her whole world until he’d dumped her senior year and started dating someone else a week after.
Since that whopper of a heartache, she’d dated a couple of men very casually, all of whom had simply sort of drifted away when she began seeing Keith without any big confrontation or fireworks.
All of which was to say: if her romantic experience was meager, her ending relationships experience was completely nonexistent.
She’d been the dumpee, but never the dumper.
That changed tonight.
Nervous as she’d been in the hours leading up to her dinner with Keith, Violet was surprised to realize that she wasn’t as jittery and nauseous as she’d expected to be. Instead, she felt almost… anticipatory?
Not to say that she was looking forward to it—of course not. She didn’t want to hurt Keith. But on some level, Violet also was pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt Keith.
Because he didn’t love her, not in the way she wanted to be loved. She had no doubt his ego would be stinging by the time she’d said her piece. But his heart? It would be just fine.
As for her own heart, Violet was a bit more concerned. Not that it would be broken the way it had been after Erik had dumped her. But Violet was also very aware that her heart had been safe in Keith’s keeping; perhaps that’s why it had never belonged, even partially, to Keith in the first place:
She’d known that even if he’d done his worst, it wouldn’t have cut deeply, because Violet hadn’t felt deeply.
And they both deserved a relationship with a bit more skin in the game.
They both deserved to be in love, but it would never be with each other.
“I’m thinking the duck,” Keith mused, completely oblivious to her train of thought, as he studied the menu. “What are you getting?”
“The pasta special.” She’d decided the second the server had said the words mushroom cream sauce.
Keith looked up. “Really? You never get pasta.”
“Well, I’m getting it tonight,” she said calmly as she caught the server’s eye. “May we have more bread?” she asked.
Violet pointed to a small, empty dish in the center of the table. “Oh, and more of whatever this was.”
“Garlic herb butter,” the server said with a smile. “Chef specialty. We all joke the secret ingredient is magic, because none of us can seem to re-create it at home.”
“Damn,” Violet said with a grin. “There go my weekend plans.”
The server removed the empty bread basket and butter dish and walked away. Violet glanced at Keith to find him staring at her.
“What?”
“Since when have you said damn? Or for that matter, since when have you eaten carbs?”
Since Cain Stone fed me a bite of pancakes in a diner with sticky tables and awful coffee and told me I deserve better than fine. Since we walked through Central Park and ate a pretzel, and watched ice skaters, and enjoyed a day without plan or agenda.
She wasn’t breaking up with Keith because of Cain, or at least not only because of Cain. But she was breaking up with Keith because of what she’d learned from the taciturn Louisianan. She’d realized that she was bored with her tidy, safe, never-changing life. Bored with going to the same places, ordering the same food, following the same schedule. Not because she had an issue with routine, but because she wasn’t entirely sure she’d even chosen her own routine. She’d simply fallen into it.
