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“Hey, hun. I wanted to check in with you. Lainey said you were working yourself to the bone.”
“Well, isn’t Lainey a giant tattletale.”
“Oh stop,” my mom lightheartedly chastises. “You know she has good intentions. Sometimes you just need your mom. It’s not a bad thing, Becks. Lord knows, I’ve needed you kids more times than I can count. So, you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or do I need to ask Will?”
“Ha! Joke’s on you. Will doesn’t know.”
“Ah, so there is something going on.”
Shit.
“You suck sometimes.”
She laughs, and I miss her so much right now, I can hardly breathe. I lean against the wall of the locker room and try to take a breath, tears burning the backs of my eyes. She’s right, sometimes a girl just needs her mom.
I nibble my lip and confess, “I might be a little heartbroken.”
“Tell me about him.”
And with those words, the dam breaks. I’ve been proudly holding myself together since that first morning where I cried after Trent left. I haven’t shed a tear since, but confessing everything to my mom tells me maybe I haven’t been dealing with everything after all—more like avoiding.
I’m incredibly thankful there’s no one else in the women’s locker room because I probably look like a fucking basket case. It takes a while to tell my mom all about running into Trent again after what happened with Brad—who now feels like a complete nobody compared to Trent. I leave out the details of our night together, for obvious reasons. When I’m done, I grab the box of Kleenex off the counter and blow my nose. I chance a peek in the mirror and nearly groan with how awful I look. My face is red and blotchy, and my eyes are already swelling from how hard I cried. My nose looks like I’m competing with Rudolph the reindeer and is still slightly runny.
I look like a hot mess.
But I feel a little better. Like finally talking about him allowed me to heal a little bit.
“Why didn’t you tell him you didn’t think it was a mistake?”
“Because he made it super clear he just wanted to be my friend and that was important to him.”
“But you said you haven’t talked to him since.”
“Correct.”
“So, now he doesn’t even have you as a friend.”
I never thought about it that way. I’ve been so wrapped up in my hurt, I never took the time to think about how Trent would be feeling. How ignoring him might’ve hurt him.
At the time, I had to ignore him for my sanity. I couldn’t be around him after our night together and not be hurt that he didn’t want more with me.
“I guess you’re right.”
“Now, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Trent, and I’m sure he’s changed a lot.”
“Not that much,” I tell her. “He’s surprisingly down-to-earth still.”
“Do you think it’s possible he was feeling more too, but didn’t want to lose you?”
“How would he lose me if we were more?” I exclaim. “We’d be a couple! He’d have me all the time, as friend and girlfriend. Wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds?”
“But what if things ended? I’m not saying they would, but no relationship comes with a guarantee. What if you risked your friendship for a relationship that turned sour down the road and then you had nothing?”
“We have nothing now!”
My mom remains calm, even as I start to get louder. “I understand that, but look at things from another perspective. I’m actually surprised you didn’t talk to Will about this. Men process issues differently than women, sweetie, even if we don’t want them to. Raising a son gave me better insight into that, but Doug has really made me realize how different men and women think, sometimes even about the simplest things. Maybe you should try talking to Trent. You said he still occasionally texts you.”
At least once a week, I get a text from him. Sometimes, he tells me a story from the road. Other times he just asks how I’m doing. But every week, without fail, he attempts to contact me. “Yeah.”
