Say You Want Me(81)

I know exactly what it means. She’s not someone I can count on.

“I’m going to pretend this is all just in anger and grief.”

“Pretend away.” I shrug. I don’t care what she needs to tell herself so she can sleep at night. I’m learning pretty quickly she’s never going to love me, so I’m going to stop waiting for it.

“We’ll talk when you’re less hostile.”

I laugh. “Okay, Mom. We’ll do that.”

She’ll never change. I’ll never be okay with it. It’s sad because I would’ve never wanted this with Faith. Not that my mom and I would have ever been like Rory and Lorelai Gilmore, but we could’ve at least had a friendship. I would’ve never treated Faith as if she were a burden. No little girl should grow up thinking she’s irrelevant.

The phone disconnects, and I collapse on my couch. It’s been seventeen days since I’ve heard his voice. I would’ve thought it’d be easier by now.

Instead, I’m more miserable than the day I left.

I close my eyes and try to push him out of my mind. I can’t let myself get caught up in being in a world where I don’t belong. There’s no sense in casting wishes that’ll never be granted. But I can’t seem to stop myself. His brown eyes fill my thoughts. The way he’d smile when he was up to something, or how his voice sounded when he was concerned. Mostly, I think about how it felt to be in his arms. The contentment and security he commanded just by being there.

Knock, knock, knock.

Ugh. I shouldn’t have been letting myself go there anyway.

I schlep over to the door and open it. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

Nate stands there in his scrubs holding a bag of takeout and a six pack in the air. “I know we said maybe, but I was hungry and I somehow ended up here.”

Not wanting to be rude, I open the door wider. “Thank you.” I smile. “Come in. I’m starving, and we both need to eat, right?”

“Right.”

What could it hurt? Nate is one of the few friends I have here, and it’s just dinner. I could use someone like him in my life, even if he’s seen me naked.





“WAIT, SO THE LITTLE GIRL made it?” I ask as I open another bottle of wine. Nate and I ended up eating and then moving on to pilfering my liquor. Thankfully, the girl who watched my house while I was gone didn’t drink it all.

I won’t even pretend it doesn’t feel great to relax. I’m curled up on the couch in a pair of shorts and a baggy sweatshirt. My hair is piled on top of my head, and I look like crap. But Nate isn’t looking at me as a date, he’s just a friend.

It’s been good to have a little normal tonight.

“She did.”

“That’s crazy! You said she coded.” I pour another glass of wine.

“I’m telling you, it was terrifying. But somehow we were able to get the bleeding under control.” He grabs another beer from the six-pack he brought. “It’s amazing what the heart is capable of doing.”

“Yeah.” I puff. “It’s also the easiest to injure.”

He grips my hand. “It is also the strongest. I’ve seen hearts in such bad shape that I didn’t think there was any way they could come back from it. But they did.”

I appreciate where he’s going with this. The hope he’s trying to inject into my black heart. Sometimes there’s no amount of hope that can heal a shattered soul. Instead of bringing this evening to a gloomy low point, I change gears. “Good to know.” I wink.

He chuckles. “I’ve really missed you, Ang.”

I lean back, unsure of what to say. “Nate.” The truth is that I didn’t think of him once. Once I started to fall in love with Wyatt, I stopped missing anything about Philly. I was happy. I fell in love with more than just Wyatt. It was his world and his family. I felt like I belonged there.

“No.” He puts his hand on mine. “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not trying to move in on you like that. I know you’re going through something. I wasn’t trying to push you.”

“There’s just no way I’m close to ever . . .” I press my hand against my chest. I can’t even think of another man. “I didn’t know that was what tonight was.”

“I know, and it wasn’t supposed to be. I knew you were sad, I was hungry and figured maybe you’d want some company. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Nate clarifies. “It’s the booze. I never should’ve said that.”

“Loose lips sink ships,” I jest.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beer holder,” Nate retorts.