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“Honestly? I don’t know.” He leans back in his seat, his hands in his lap. “Sometimes I don’t know what the hell she was thinking when she decided to tie herself to me.”
“Zach, I was just joking,” I say.
Even though I want nothing more than to hear his answer. To hear some monumentally clarifying answer that I haven’t thought of.
“I’m not. I own dive bars. Shitty little dive bars. And yeah, they’re important to me. And they’remine.They’re important to the people who occupy those seats every day. But she’s a freaking doctor.”
“She’s a dentist.”
“Don’t say that to her,” he says sharply.
I nod, palms raised in surrender. “So, how do you deal with it?”
“With what?” He looks at me for a long moment and then nods. “With not being good enough for her?”
“I didn’t say that.” But yeah, that’s what I want to know.
“Here’s the thing I have to remember.” He looks at me, his gaze pointed as if he really wants me to pay attention. “Sarah, and women like her” —he glances at me— “they’re amazing. Incredible. Way too good for guys like me.”
I nod, transfixed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“But also, they’re smart. And that’s the key. You just have to remember that they’re so freaking smart, it would blow your mind if you ever really got a peek at what they’re thinking.”
“Yeah, of course she’s smart,” I say. And we both know I’m not talking about Sarah.
“Smart girl like that? She knowsexactlywhat she wants.” Zach levels me with his stare. “Believe me when I say she’s thought six ways from Sunday around this thing between you. First night you met, I saw a spark. And you said you were just friends. But I could tell you were lying. Maybe you didn’t know it yet. Point is, she’s been in this thing with you from the start, doing the whole Ross and Rachel thing.”
“I am so not Ross Geller.”
“It’s a metaphor.”
“A bad one.”
“Listen,” he says, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I guarantee you that she’s thought about this thing between you from every single angle you can think of—and probably some you haven’t. If she says she wants to be with you, then shewantsto be with you. Not some other version of you. Not you in ten years or you two years ago. She wants you. For whatever crazy reason, that’s what she wants. You’d do anything for her, right? Give her anything she wants? Yeah?”
I nod.
My chest feels hollow, and I shut my eyes, letting my head fall back against the headrest. Because of course he’s right. Faye is the smartest, most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. Of course she’s had the chance to think about it. And for a moment there, she did want me. She didn’t tell me she wanted me to change. She didn’t make subtle comments or suggest I do something different.
She was only worried that I didn’t want her.
“I’m such a fucking moron,” I say, scrubbing my hand down my face.
“You got there,” he says. “I was worried I was going to have to spell it out for you.”
“Shit, man. What do I do?”
“You get her back.”
Or you let her go.Faye’s father’s final words come back in that moment. And even after all this time, I’ve gotten no further than I was when I fucked everything up.
“How?”
He shrugs and shakes his head. “When I was in your shoes, I proposed.”
“I can’t even get her to text me more than a thumbs up emoji. She’s not going to marry me.” My lungs feel tight and I squeeze my eyes shut, as if that will stop the ache in the hollow of my chest.
“You want to marry her?” He’s grinning.
