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My heart thuds at the sound of my name from his lips, but I just nod, and head back upstairs. I can’t read into this–us. There is no us. There’s just me, and there’s him. No ‘we,’ and no ‘us.’
Crawling back into bed, I curl into the comforter and stare at the wall. I’m just staying with him until the storm passes, and then I’m going back to Dottie’s.
Maybe if I keep telling myself this, then it’ll finally sink in. This whole ‘playing house’ thing needs to end before I start thinking of it as long term.
Because it’s not.
Chapter 17
Morning beautiful,
It stopped snowing. So be ready at 6 sharp – I’m taking you out.
-Ry
I smile, reading the note Ryan left for me on the nightstand. Thank fuck, it stopped snowing!
But…if it stopped snowing, then I’ll have to leave, and this is over. The huge smile I just had quickly fades.
I have a date tonight. A date that’s not with some random guy I met online, or an asshole I met at a bar. It’s with Ryan. The man I want, can have, but can’t keep.
Groaning, I throw the covers off and dig my slippers out of my suitcase. With my feet encased in soft fur, I make my way downstairs, and find another thermos of hot chocolate waiting for me like yesterday.
Morning beautiful,
I made you hot chocolate again. Remember – 6 sharp. Stay warm.
-Ry
The thought that he can’t wait to take me out makes me smile, and my heart beats a little faster.
Grabbing the thermos, I take a sip of the hot, sweet liquid, and it’s like my insides are swimming in a pool of delicious tranquility. It’s so fucking good. He has to just melt a bar of chocolate with milk, because this sure as hell isn’t Swiss Miss.
Closing my eyes, I savor the taste. This man could seduce me with hot chocolate alone.
Grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter, I bring it, and my thermos of heaven, into the living room. Taking the same spot on the couch as yesterday, I pick up the copy of Jane Eyre I left on the table, and open to where I left off. I was distracted by Ryan’s sexy little texts yesterday, but since I turned my phone off, there will be none of that today.
It’s just me and good old Jane.
I’ve read this book twice, and both times, it left me feeling a different way. In high school, I loved it, and I thought it was such a great love story. Rochester didn’t care that Jane wasn’t the most beautiful woman, he fell for her because she’s smart and challenges him.
But then I had to read it again in college, and my professor ruined that rose-tinted view I had on Jane and Rochester. He pointed out that she settled for a life with him. Rochester kept Jane in the shadows of his secrets the entire time she was working for him. It was only when those secrets were literally destroyed, and dead, that she was able to return and accept his love.
She was able to take back the power in the relationship, but in doing so, she also gave up what she always wanted and worked hard for–a career.
And as I sit here reading it for the third time, my opinions are swirling together. I see the love as well as the lies and manipulation. It’s almost like you can’t have one without the other. Which is pretty fucked up, but necessary for this story.
Does it have to be like that in real life, though? Do there have to be lies and secrecy separating people before they can be together?
The fact that this book is still relevant 172 years later is amazing. Imagine that? A novel about a woman being admired for her wit and honesty over her looks, as well as navigating through the muddy waters of a relationship with a prominent man who thinks he can deceive a woman into loving him, still being relevant…
HA. Just kidding, that will always be relevant.
Closing the book, I stare off at nothing in particular. Maybe I shouldn’t read such a thought-provoking book right now. I’m already in a state of utter confusion and am walking dangerously close to the line, where if crossed, there would be no returning.
Standing, I walk over to the bookshelf and put Jane Eyre back where she belongs. Maybe next time I decide to read her, I won’t be such a fucking mess in the head.
My fingers brush along the spines of the beautiful books until I come across a little one tucked between two larger ones. Huh. Pulling it out, a slow smile forms as I read the name on the cover.
