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“Is that how you feel now? Out of control?”
Libby gulped, and for a moment, Reagan thought she might cry. It took all herself control not to reach out and comfort her.
“What else would you call going to see my ex-fiancé’s show, getting my car booted, and having to walk to the Metro in the rain,” she replied, watching Reagan’s face like a hawk for a reaction.
Reagan’s empty stomach twisted into a fiery knot. Our kiss made her run to the ex who dumped her. She hadn’t been
expecting that. In Reagan’s indecision on whether to leave or ask a follow-up question, Libby continued.
“Nothing happened, I swear. Actually, seeing him again after so long gave me some surprising clarity. Since we split, I often wondered what was wrong with me. Why I wasn’t worth keeping, and I realize it has nothing to do with me. We are just pieces from two di erent puzzles. No matter how hard I tried, we were never going to fit.”
Trying to remain nonchalant while a little spark of jealousy irritated her gut, Reagan crossed her arms. “That’s great. I’m really glad you found that closure.”
“I should have told you,” Libby said softly, leaning forward and putting her hand over Reagan’s. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not your keeper. I’m your fake girlfriend, remember?” The sharpness of Reagan’s words hurt them both, and Libby recoiled.
Her eyes widened and her face paled. “Yeah. I know. I just
—”“I’m sorry,” Reagan said scooting forward. “That wasn’t fair. The fact that you shut me out after the other night and then went running to your ex, even if nothing happened, made me feel kind of insecure. Well, more immediately it makes me angry, but it’s coming from a place of unwarranted jealousy.”
Libby shook her head. “How do you do that? How can you be so connected to your emotions and name your feelings so easily?”
Reagan o ered a dry chuckle. “There’s nothing easy about it,” she confessed. “And it takes an exhausting amount of practice and self-regulation.”
“When you said fake girlfriend—” Libby started, but Reagan didn’t let her finish.
“I was being snide. I’m sorry—”
“No, please,” Libby scooted forward until their knees were touching. “I’m the one who is trying to apologize here.”
Reagan looked down at their hands. The sight and feeling of her fingers intertwined with hers, of her thumb running over her palm, forced her stomach from ache to flutter.
Libby’s dark green eyes were as bright as they were irritated, and Reagan couldn’t help staring back at them with the same quiet longing they projected.
“This doesn’t have to be so complicated,” Reagan whispered, leaning forward as her attention jumped from her eyes to her lips.
“It doesn’t. But I’m afraid I’ve made this complicated,”
she said, running her fingertips along the inside of Reagan’s wrist and making her pulse jump. “I should’ve been honest.
That’s pretty much the unifying fact for the last couple years of my life.” Her smile was sad and wavering. “Longer, really.”
Reagan waited for more details and focused on the warmth spreading up her arm from the ground zero of Libby’s touch. For the first time, Reagan was the anxious one while Libby emanated an eerily quiet calm.
“I like you,” Libby declared like she was claiming the moon for the motherland. “In a very real and terrifying way.” She collapsed against the couch. “You’re right. That’s not easy.”
Reagan chuckled as she got to her feet. “Don’t take on too much, tiger. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look terrible. I’m going to run and get you something stronger than hot limeade. Just don’t tell your grandma.”
When Libby closed her eyes instead of protesting, Reagan realized just how sick she must feel. Swiping the keys on the glass entrance table, Reagan made sure they opened the door. No need for Libby to drag herself o the couch again.
Across the street, Reagan found a convenience store with overpriced cold medicin
e and the mentholated topical ointment all Cuban grandmas swore by. Waiting on the corner for her chance to jog across the city street, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Libby said. She wasn’t thrilled that she hadn’t found closure from the ex until last night, but she focused on the positive.
Reagan’s chest ached and her lips twitched into an uncontrollable smile. Neither of them was faking it anymore.
Reagan wasn’t sure she’d ever been pretending.
