I'd always been a selfless man.
But this wasn't selfless.
This … was greedy.
However, I had to face the facts. I was only human-a man in desperate need of companionship. And Gabi couldn't give that to me. It wasn't wrong to crave a connection with another person … only if I acted on impulses and crossed moral lines. I couldn't continue to beat myself up over confiding in someone who genuinely wanted to listen to me.
After I got out of the shower and put on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, I turned off the light and carefully opened the door. The moment I stepped into the room, I froze. My feet halted and my breathing stopped. Eden sat up on the bed against the headboard. She had her knees drawn up to her chest, the sheet draped over her, and her long, wet hair over one shoulder. But the sight of her watching me wasn't what caught my attention. It was her glistening eyes, the redness dusting her clean face. Tears lined her cheeks and her chin dimpled and quivered.
I went to her-without hesitation, not giving it a second thought. I closed the distance between the bathroom and the bed and took a seat on the edge of the mattress. All I wanted to do was hold her, pull her face to my chest and make everything okay, but I couldn't do that. That would be wrong.
"What happened, Eden?" I leaned into the middle of the bed to get closer, doing my best to comfort her while retaining a safe distance between us.
"Can we talk?" she whispered and wiped her face.
"Of course. You can tell me anything."
"It's about what I said earlier tonight. While we were dancing. I think that second glass of wine clouded my judgment, and I need to clear the air."
"Don't worry about it, Eden. We've both said and done things we shouldn't have. I know I won't let that happen again. Please, don't cry about it."
"No … I need to say this." She rubbed beneath her nose and sniffled before continuing, not once looking at me while she spoke. "I realize what I said implied I'm waiting around for you. And that's wrong. That's not what I'm doing. I hope your relationship works out and you find happiness with Gabi. She's your fiancée. She's the one you chose to be with and marry. She's the one you were going to have a baby with. And it's wrong to imply otherwise."
"I knew what you meant."
"This has been really hard for me. You're an incredible man. I've never met anyone like you before. You're kind and generous and smart and funny. All those things and more are what attracted me to you to begin with. But this isn't about me, and I feel like I'm making everything worse for you."
I was confused. I had no idea what she was trying to say. "How are you making anything worse? Honestly, Eden, you make so many things better."
"That's the problem. I've become your emotional crutch. You're not happy at home, your relationship is weighing on you, and instead of concentrating on that, you come to me for the highs to balance out your lows. I've become your vacation."
Her perspective was one I hadn't considered, but it made complete sense. I looked forward to seeing her because I knew she'd put a smile on my face. I knew she'd make me laugh and shine a light in the dark corner I hid in. When I was at home and Gabi ignored me or locked herself in the room to cry alone, I thought about Eden. Sometimes I'd text her for some semblance of life again.
She was right.
It wasn't fair.
Not to her. Not to me.
And certainly not to Gabi.
I was a selfish ass.
"I'm sorry," I said, staring at the sheet twisted in her grasp. "I shouldn't have used you like that. I've just never had anyone to talk to, and I guess I allowed the lines to blur."
"You're not the only one in the wrong here, Dane. I've said things, too. Last week in the office when I blew up at you and asked you things I had no right to ask … I never should've done that. I had no right to question your love for her or if you planned to leave her."
I dropped my head and allowed the words to spill out of me. "I've never thought about walking away from her before. I promised I'd take care of her, and that's what I've done. I started making money when I was fourteen years old. By the time Gabi and I got together, I was completely supporting myself-aside from the typical living expenses my parents took care of. But I bought my first car, my first computer … everything. I've been taking care of Gabi in every sense of the word since day one. And not once did I ever think that maybe there's something better out there for me. That maybe there's someone better out there, who'll make me happy and not drag me down all the time."
"You can't hold yourself to the people you were a decade ago. Or even five years ago. Dane, people change. We evolve. We become better or worse versions depending on what we've had to endure. And from what I gather, Gabi has endured a lot. And along with it, so have you. Just because you were there for her since the first day doesn't mean you have to suffer until the last."
"I don't know what to do," I whispered, sounding every bit as somber as I felt.
"Your only two choices are to leave or stay. Take everything else out of the equation-your past, the issues you've gone through, the baby … all of it. This is about you. What you need. You either stay with her and make the best of it, or you leave in the hopes you'll someday find what it is you need. No one can decide that for you."
I ran my hands down my face and released a long exhale. This whole time, I thought I'd stayed with Gabi because she needed me. And maybe I had. Maybe that weighed heavily in the decision. However, listening to Eden, I realized there was more to it than that. And it only made me more of a coward. I hadn't left because that would mean I'd have to make a choice. That's what I'd been avoiding. Making a choice.
"Can I ask you a question? You said you've been taking care of her since day one … does she take care of you? And I don't mean in a sexual way. Is she there for you when you need it?"
Gabi had been there for me when my grandmother died, but that had been years ago. It was before she lost the baby, before her stepdad died, and before the first tragedy struck. Since then, she hadn't been. But I couldn't answer Eden's question because the truth wasn't that simple.
The only person who'd been there for me was Eden.
"Sometimes we do things without personal gain," I said, staring at the wall in front of me. "We stick things out and stay places for other people. It's not always about ourselves. It's not always about what we get in return. I can't think about myself all the time. Gabi's hurting … I can't expect her to take care of me when she can't even take care of herself."
"You don't have to think about yourself all the time … but it does have to be part of the equation. Relationships have to be a give and take. Sometimes you do more of one than the other, but it can't be like that all the time. You can't keep giving and giving without getting anything in return. All I've heard you say is how much she needs you. Do you need her?"
I turned away from her and dropped my head into my hands. The pressure had begun to mount so much I didn't think I could take it anymore. Before Eden, I never thought about what I needed or what I wasn't getting. Then she showed me the light. She made me realize what I was missing. Since then, that's all I've thought about. Yet it hadn't done me any good. All it did was make everything worse. The pain cut deeper than I ever imagined it could, and there didn't seem to be a viable option to make it go away.
I opened my mouth and the heartache poured out. "Over the last seven months, I've gotten used to merely surviving. I go to work and come home. I sit there and watch Gabi go through the motions of her depression, and then I wake up the next day to do it all again."
"I'm sure it hasn't always been this bad."
"It's always been a roller coaster. We've had moments of happiness and moments of severe tragedy. And for the past few weeks, all I keep thinking about is … will I ever be able to stop worrying about when and how the other shoe will drop. So many shoes have dropped over the span of our relationship, and I can't help but wonder how many more we might have to deal with."
The bed dipped seconds before her hand covered my shoulder, offering the support I so desperately needed. It was such an intimate touch, more so than I'd ever felt from anyone-including Gabi. It wasn't sexual or inappropriate, but intimate nonetheless.
"I know you said you didn't want to tell me things about Gabi because they aren't your stories to tell, but maybe you can talk about your relationship with her. Maybe if you start from the beginning and go through the whole story of your time with her, you might be able to see where things kind of hiccupped. Then at least you'll have a better understanding of where things turned and be able to make it right again."