Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love #3) (20 page)

“But what?” Skylar rubbed my arm. “I feel like there’s a but coming.”

“That sounded dirty,” Natalie whispered.

I laughed ruefully, grabbing a tissue from a box on the counter. “The
but
is that I want more. I’m OK not having
all
, but I want more than he’s giving.”

“Do you think he’s capable of giving more?” Skylar asked.

“Yes,” I said firmly, swiping at my nose. “But he’s stubborn. And convinced he has to balance things this certain way, with me on one side and his son on the other. He feels safer that way, I guess.”

“I don’t get it,” Skylar said. “Safer how?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to betray Levi’s confidence by revealing the things he’d told me, but I also needed some advice. “I think he’s afraid. The night he first told me he loved me, he admitted that he was scared he couldn’t love us both enough. As if he only had so much love to give, and by giving some to me, it meant less for his son. Maybe he’s thinking if he really lets me in, he’s a bad father.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Natalie put a hand on her belly. “Showing his son that he loves someone and lets himself be loved is a wonderful thing.”

“It is,” I agreed, “but he has a lot of guilt over not wanting a baby before his son was born. Part of him still feels like he has to make up for that.”

“But where does that leave you?” Skylar pressed.

I sighed. “It leaves me wondering what I originally wondered. Is there a place for me in his life or not? But…I’m scared to ask. I love him now. What if the answer is
not
?”

“OK, I know I’m the baby sister here,” said Natalie, “but I have to say from experience, staying in a relationship where you’re not happy just because you’re scared of what will happen when you ask the hard questions is a
bad
idea.”

“I second that.” Skylar held up one hand. “In addition, there have to be truthful answers. If Sebastian had been honest with me about his relapse when it started instead of waiting until the breaking point, it could have saved us a lot of pain.”

I tossed my tissue in the trash and washed my hands. “So you think I should say something more?”

“Yes,” they said together.

“But what? I’ve already said that I want to meet his son, and I’m ready. It’s Levi who isn’t. Do I say
do it or else
?” Groaning, I tipped my forehead into my hands. “I don’t want to issue any ultimatums. That is so not me.”

“I don’t think you have to put it that way,” Natalie said. “But I do think you’re worth more than you’re getting. I wish you believed that.”

“Me too,” said Skylar.

I nodded, feeling the tears threaten again. I had a decision to make. Could I be content with what I had with him for now and trust that it would grow to be more over time? Or should I ask for more, believing I was worth it, and risk losing him?

I spent all of Thanksgiving Day worrying.

I arrived at my parents’ with a pie that Jillian had given me to bring, a cherry pie her mother had baked.

“How sweet,” my mother said, taking it out of the box and leaning in to smell it. I had the urge to do that too, thinking it would smell like Jillian.

Jesus. I was messed up.

“When do we get to meet the famous Jillian?” my mother asked, setting the pie on the counter. “You could have brought her tonight, you know. Did you invite her, like I asked?”

“She’s with her family,” I said, avoiding the question. Later, at the table, I fretted so much I could hardly eat.

Jillian was getting restless. I could feel it. And she had every right to be. It was wrong of me to keep her from meeting Scotty. She loved me and she wanted to be part of my whole life, not just my Girl Friday anymore. Could I blame her?

I didn’t like it either. From Saturday through Thursday, I thought of her every other minute. So many times I caught myself wanting to bring up her name to Scotty, so it wouldn’t be such a shock to bring her into our life as someone who was important to me but completely unknown to him. A gradual approach would be better.

And she would be so great with him, wouldn’t she? She’d understand his mind and his quirks and his sweetness better than anyone could, not only because she loved and understood me, but because she was a pediatrician, which meant she’d dedicated years of her life to helping kids feel better. What more could I ask for?

She’d been totally right about the lucky stone idea. After the Thursday math test debacle last month when he’d wet himself in the attempt to get out of school, I’d purchased a satiny smooth Petoskey stone for him at a gift shop and told him it was a lucky rock. He kept it in his pocket at school, and when he felt anxious about a test or an assignment, he’d take it out and hold it in his hand or put it on his desk where he could see it.

When I’d thanked her for the idea and told her she was brilliant, she’d blushed and said how happy she was to be of help.

So why the fuck was I so scared of taking the final step and letting her all the way in?

I’d made a thousand excuses in my head—it was too soon, it wouldn’t be right for Scotty, it would take away from our alone time, she was only saying she wanted to meet him to be polite, my family would criticize me, Scotty might act up…

But the truth was, I was scared.

And I hated myself for it.

But I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she wanted me that much. That she’d be willing to stay once she saw that some days, I was barely holding things together. That she’d be willing to love a child that wasn’t hers for me, when I hadn’t been enough to make even his own mother stay.

I hadn’t loved Tara, so her leaving didn’t hurt me, but her abandonment of Scotty had scarred me in a different way.

There were times in the last eight years when he’d needed a father
and
a mother, when I’d needed someone with whom I could share the beautiful, painful honor of bringing him up in this world, someone who understood the blame I placed on myself when things didn’t go well for him, the way he could break my heart and put it back together again.

I hadn’t counted on falling so hard for Jillian. What if Scotty took to her and she didn’t take to him? What if she did but decided she couldn’t handle the way we had to live? What if letting her in only meant revealing to her all my weaknesses?

What if she left? Then what?

When Tara left, it had been hard, but it hadn’t broken me. I’d been solely concerned with my son.

If Jillian left, it would break me.

And maybe I would deserve it for my shortcomings.

I couldn’t put it off forever. But I had to protect myself a little longer.

The week after Thanksgiving, Levi and I made a date to do some Christmas shopping at the mall and have dinner. I knew it was pointless to ask, but I did anyway.

“Does Scotty want to come along? We could go out for Italian after.”

“No. He doesn’t do well at the mall. Too many sounds, smells, noises. It’s overwhelming for him.”

“OK.”

The week after that, Scotty was sick and Levi didn’t feel it would be right to leave him. “Poor thing,” I said. “What does he have?”

“Just a virus, I guess. We saw the doctor this morning. He’s pretty miserable.”

“Why don’t I bring you both some dinner? I don’t have to stay. I can see you for a minute and bring you something to eat so you don’t have to cook.”

“You’re sweet to offer, but no. I wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“I’m a pediatrician, Levi. I’m around sick kids day in and day out.”

“I know, but it’s OK. If my mom comes down tomorrow, maybe we can have coffee or something.”

My stomach churned. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

We hung up, and I was so worked up that I went to the gym and got on the treadmill, walking fast and hard for forty solid minutes, huffing and puffing, my anger boiling inside me.

This was not OK. It was one thing to accept being less than the top priority in his life; it was another to accept being treated as if I were frivolous, insignificant, good for a laugh or a fuck, but not essential.

This wasn’t asking too much. I saw that clearly. I wasn’t asking for a ring. I wasn’t asking to live together. I wasn’t even asking for a promise that those things would happen. I was asking for a chance. I was asking to be given the opportunity to love them both.

To deny me that at this point was unfair.

My sisters were right. Levi was right.

I deserved more.

I loved him with all my heart, but I couldn’t go on feeling like this—like I wasn’t enough.

Of all people, he had to understand that.

• • •

He texted me the following morning. It was Saturday, the first week of December, and I was spending the morning catching up on housework.

Hey, beautiful. I miss you.

I miss you too. How’s Scotty?

He’s OK. Still has a fever. I’m so sorry about yesterday.

I understand.

My mom said she’d come down later. Can I see you?

Yes. I’d like to talk.

It took him a while to reply. I knew it would. Was he nervous?
OK. Should I come over?

Well, it’s not like you let me come to your house.
Sure. Time?

How about 5?

That works.

Good. I can’t wait to see you. Love you.

Love you too.

I spent the rest of the day scrubbing toilets and sinks, the shower tiles, and the kitchen floor. I vacuumed the carpet, swept the downstairs hall, and cleaned off windows and mirrors. I changed the sheets on my bed, washed a load of towels, and paid bills. The entire time I worked, I thought about what I was going to say to him, and what his reaction might be.

Would he get defensive? Angry? Sad?

Would he admit I was right but refuse to budge?

Would he try to sweet-talk me into waiting a little longer?

Would he put those hands on me in a way that would decimate all my carefully constructed arguments, render me completely defenseless against him?

Maybe I should tie him up. Put a bag over his head. Stick him in the closet and talk to him through the closed door.

If I saw him, heard his voice, felt his touch, it would be so much harder to stand up for myself.

But I had to.

By the time I was in the shower, I knew exactly what I wanted to say to him. I wouldn’t accuse or criticize. I wouldn’t yell or cry. I would calmly but firmly explain why I felt it was time for us to take the next step, tell him how much I loved him, and ask for the chance to love Scotty too.

He’d see that I was serious, that I was understanding, that I wasn’t expecting him to be perfect, just to be fair. I didn’t need
everything
, but I needed more. And I was worth it.

Needless to say, it didn’t exactly go as planned.

• • •

He knocked at twenty after five, and I opened the door to a blustery cold breeze and an apology.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late.” He grabbed me in a hug. “I had trouble getting out the door.”

“That’s OK.” I wrapped my arms around him, and we stood still for a minute, chest to chest, my head tucked under his chin. It felt so good that my resolve wavered.

“God, I missed you last night.” He kissed my head. “I’ve missed you all week.”

“Me too, Levi.” I pulled back. “That’s why I want to talk. Come on upstairs.”

He nodded, but I could see the anxiety in his expression.

I led the way up the stairs and went into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything?” I asked. “A drink? Some coffee? Something to eat?”

“No thanks.” He took off his coat and hung it on the back of a counter stool. “Is everything OK? You’re making me nervous.”

On the other side of the breakfast counter from him—which wasn’t an accident—I took a breath. “I don’t know if everything is OK. I need you to tell me.”

“What do you mean?”

I tucked my hair behind my ears. “For the last month, I’ve been asking to meet Scotty, and you keep putting it off. I’m starting to feel like you’re delaying the introduction because you don’t have the feelings I do about us.”

“That’s not true,” he said, coming around the counter and taking my hands. “Jillian, I love you. I’m crazy about you. You know I am. I just want you all to myself for a while.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I knew my plan to remain calm and rational was futile. “I do think you love me, Levi. If I didn’t, this would be so much easier. We could call it quits, and I’d go nurse my broken heart.”

“Jill—”

“I think you love me and you’re just afraid.”

His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re using your son as an excuse not to let me into your life because you’re scared.”

He dropped my hands. “What the fuck, Jillian? I’ve told you why I haven’t introduced you yet.”

“I know. And those reasons made sense for a time. But if you really feel about me the way you say you do—if you really love me—you’d let me into his life too, because he’s everything to you. You’d give me the chance to love you both.”

“You said you understood,” he said, his jaw clenching, fingers flexing. “You knew from the beginning I had to put his needs first.”

“Stop blaming him!” I shouted. “This isn’t about Scotty’s needs, and you know it! This is about you being unwilling to let me in because you’re scared of something—and I don’t even know what! Do you think I won’t be patient with him? Do you think I might not love you if I see you make a mistake? Do you think I’ll try to be his mother? Or
your
mother?” I put a hand on my chest. “I’m not interested in criticizing you or judging you for the parenting choices you make. I want to be part of your life on a real level, not just a romantic interlude.”

Levi let me finish, but I could see his hands curling at his sides like they did when he felt attacked and on the defensive. Those fucking hands—I couldn’t even look at them. They never failed to arouse me, and that was the last thing I needed to feel right now.

“I told you,” he said, his tone bitter, “I told you from the start I couldn’t be what you wanted. I told you I couldn’t give all of me.”

“I don’t
need
all of you in that way,” I said, wiping my eyes. God, was he not
listening
? “I don’t need all your time or attention or love. But I want to see all of you. I want to
know
all of you. I want to love all of you. Why won’t you let me?”

“I don’t know, OK? I don’t fucking know!” He shook his head, his eyes closing. “I knew it. I knew I couldn’t do this right. I told you I was bad at balance.”

“You don’t need better balance!” I threw my hands up. “Don’t you understand? You need to stop being one person over here and another over there! You only need to be one man, one whole man, and realize that you have enough love for both of us! It’s not a zero-sum game!”

He struggled for words and retreated back into self-doubt. “Jillian, I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved any woman, but I don’t know how to do what you’re asking. I knew I’d be a disappointment to you. I’ve always said you deserve more than I could give you.”

I shook my head. “I don’t deserve more than you can give me, Levi. I deserve more than you’re
willing
to give me. And you know what? A few months ago, maybe I’d have been content to live like this, loving you from the outside. Looking in. But you gave me a taste of what it feels like to feel worthy of being loved, to feel like I’m enough. I want more of that.”

He sighed, his dark eyes sad, but his chin rising stubbornly. “So that’s it? You’re walking away?”

My throat closed as his walls went up. “If I have to. Let me in, Levi. Let me in, or let me go.”

His breath left him in an angry huff. “I always knew you would go.”

I crossed my arms and called his bluff. “Are you forcing me to leave now because you’re afraid I’ll leave later?” And then it dawned on me, the source of the fear. God, how had I not seen it sooner? “I’m not Tara, Levi. Stop letting fear of the future and guilt from the past prevent you from being happy. You’ve done it long enough!”

He reacted as if I’d slapped him, his eyes blazing with anger, his lips compressing to a thin line, his back snapping straight—and I knew I’d touched a nerve.
Oh fuck. I shouldn’t have said that.

“Say something!” I yelled, my heart hammering.
I’m losing him. I’m losing him.

But he said nothing. He backed away from me, grabbed his jacket from the back of the stool, and took off down the stairs.

A few seconds later, I heard my front door slam.

“Fuck you, you coward!” I screamed, my hands squeezing into fists too. I stood there seething for a moment, then burst into tears, weeping into my hands while I leaned against the breakfast counter for support, right next to the framed picture of my sisters and me that he’d given me for my birthday.

How had they done it? How had they figured love out and made it work? Had I fucked up? Should I have been more understanding? More patient? More flexible?

I ran down the stairs to my bedroom and threw myself on the bed, sobbing into my pillow for an hour. When I was completely cried out, I blew my nose and put drops in my eyes. Then I picked up my phone and called Skylar.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Are you busy?”

“Jillian? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

I took a shaky breath. “I’m at home. But I need to talk.”

“Let me call you right back.”

We hung up and I called Natalie. “Can I come over?” I asked her.

“Of course! Are you OK?”

“No. I’ll be there in ten.”

By the time Skylar called me back, I was on my way out the door. “I had to check with Mia and see if I could get off a little early,” she said breathlessly, as if she were hurrying somewhere on foot. “She said it was fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Go to Natalie’s house,” I told her. “I need you both right now.”

“Done. I’ll see you there.”

I hung up, taking measured deep breaths and telling myself I would be OK, even if I lost Levi.

I still had family. I still had love.