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And with those two words, I delve into my first relationship since my broken engagement. I willingly open myself up to the pain and suffering that is sure to come when this relationship ends. I’m risking it all.
And I’m terrified.
***
“Can you get the door?” Payton hollers from the kitchen when a light knock sounds at her apartment door.
After glancing through the peephole, I throw the lock and grant entrance to Abby. Reaching out, I take the bag of chips teetering atop a bowl of something warm she’s carrying with potholders.
“Thanks,” she says quietly as she steps inside.
“What did you bring?” I ask, inhaling the aroma of melted cheese with a hint of pepper.
“Jalapeno popper dip. I found the recipe in one of Levi’s magazines,” she states casually as we slip into the kitchen to join Payton.
Levi is Abby’s best friend, and, much like her twin sister, they’re as different as night and day. Levi is funny, outgoing, and gorgeous, while Abby is quiet, shy, and conservative. They’ve always made the oddest pairing, but their friendship has withstood all other relationships to date. And when I say relationships, I mean his. I’ve never known Abby to really date. Probably because she’s secretly in love with her best friend. Levi, on the other hand, seems to have a revolving front door with an endless stream of eager ladies willing to keep him company.
“Smells delicious,” Payton says as she finishes blending mango margaritas.
“I’ve been told it’s amazing. I left half a bowl with Levi, and I think he had most of it gone before I was out the door.”
“Levi, huh?” Payton waggles her eyebrows at our littlest sister.
“Knock it off,” she chastises with a fierce blush. “We’re just friends and you know it.”
“That’s what you keep saying,” Payton adds in a singsong voice.
Fortunately for Abby, she’s saved from further scrutiny by the ringing of the doorbell. “Pizza’s here!” Payton yells before taking off for the door.
Five minutes later, we’re all sitting on the floor around the coffee table, stuffing our faces with cheese and sausage pizza, spicy jalapeno dip, and margaritas. Payton started The Italian Job when we sat down, but none of us pay Mark Wahlberg any attention.
“So I take it you and Ryan are an item now? For two days, you’ve had this dreamy look on your face every time your phone chimed with a text message. It’s nauseatingly sweet,” Payton says before taking a bite of her slice of pizza.
“I guess,” I mumble, refusing to make eye contact. All day Thursday Payton teased me about the make-out session in the parking lot. Apparently, she walked by the back window when heading to her office and witnessed our little PDA episode.
“You guess?” Abby asks, her nose scrunching up in question.
“I mean, yes. We’re dating, but we’re taking it slow.”
“Slow,” Payton snorts. “If eating each other’s faces off in public is taking it slow, I don’t want to know what happens when you guys get serious.”
“We won’t get serious,” I add, a little too quickly.
“It’s okay if you do,” Abby replies. “Not every relationship is going to end in failure, Jaime. Maybe Ryan is the one.”
Air catches in my throat and refuses to dislodge as I think about the one. “Maybe,” I say, appeasing my sister. Abby still believes in love at first sight, your forever love, and all that jazz. I believe that love hurts and is at the root of your worst pain. Clearly we’re on opposite sides of the spectrum.
“What about you, Abs? Anyone special you’re into?” Payton asks, but we already know the answer to her question.
“No.”
“You know, Abs, the delivery driver for Wholesale Flowers just broke up with his girlfriend. He’s cute and he’s in town two days a week. I bet I could arrange for you to have coffee or lunch with him while he’s here,” Payton offers with a mouth full of pizza.
“No!” Abby’s usually soft voice is loud and filled with urgency. Her eyes appear scared, as if she’s afraid of being set up.
“Abby,” I start, dropping my voice to a soothing, motherly tone. “I know you’ve been waiting around for Levi, but maybe it’s time to move on. I mean, you guys have been friends for a decade and he hasn’t shown you he’s interested in anything more than your friendship, right? As much as you want it, he’s just not on the same page as you.”
Abby’s eyes drop to her lap and refuse to look up. But if the glistening in them were any indication, I’d say she’s on the verge of tears. She’s still for several moments before glancing up at me, and that’s when I see it. Confirmation of her tears. Slowly, she nods her head.
