This isn’t how I meant for her to find out. I was going to tell her, and soon, but I wanted to ease into it. Not that I expected her to be heartbroken over the fact that I’m dating Jordyn. In fact, I thought the chances of her being happy for me were greater than the chances of her being upset by it. I never expected this reaction from her. Why is she acting like she cares this much when she made it clear last year that she wasn’t interested in anything more than the arrangement we made?
But it’s obvious by the way she’s reacting that she does care. That she did care. But for whatever reason, she refused to be with me when I needed her the most.
I try to hold it together, considering I’m holding Oliver, but every part of me wants to drop to my knees and scream.
I take a few hesitant steps forward until I’m right behind her. I gently grip her elbow with my hand, wanting to turn her around, but she brushes my hand away and walks to the other side of the restroom. She grabs a paper towel and wipes at her eyes, her back still to me.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” The words fall out of my mouth, as if they’ll somehow comfort her. I want to take them back immediately. It doesn’t matter that Fallon left such a big hole in my heart, I couldn’t help it if someone else found their way in. It doesn’t matter that Jordyn and I were both destroyed after the death of Kyle. It doesn’t matter that things didn’t progress between us until well after Oliver was born. It doesn’t matter that I’ll never feel the same connection with Jordyn that I had with Fallon, but Oliver makes up for anything our relationship lacks.
The only thing that matters to Fallon is the unexpected twist in our story. One neither of us saw coming. One neither of us even wanted. And one she’s partly responsible for. I have to remember that. As much as she’s hurting right now, she hurt me just as much—if not worse—when she chose New York over me.
I look down at Oliver and his head is resting against my chest—his eyes closed. It’s well past time for his morning nap, so I readjust him so that he’s lying in my arms. Every time I look at him, there’s a swelling in my heart. One that’s so different from any feeling Fallon or Jordyn could ever create. And I have to remind myself of that. It’s not about either of them. It’s about this little guy in my arms and what’s best for him. He’s the only thing that should matter, and I’ve been telling myself that for months. I thought that little reminder would be all it took to get me through this moment with Fallon, but now I’m not so sure.
Fallon takes a deep breath and releases it before turning around. When she locks eyes with mine, it’s evident how much of her I just destroyed. My knee-jerk reaction is to make it better, to tell her how I really feel. How—since the moment I kissed Jordyn for the first time—I’ve been nothing but a confused mess.
Actually, I’ve been a confused mess since the second Fallon pulled away in that cab last year.
“Are you in love with her?” She immediately covers her mouth with her hand, shaking her head in regret for asking the question. “Please don’t answer that.” She walks toward me and drops her eyes to the floor. “I need to leave,” she says as she passes me.
I back up until I’m pressed against the door, holding it shut. “Not like this. Please, don’t leave yet. Give me a chance to explain.”
I can’t let her leave without her understanding the whole situation. But even more so, I’m hoping she’ll explain what the hell happened last year and why she’s acting like this news is actually affecting her like it is.
“Explain what?” she says quietly. “Do you want me to stand here and listen to you explain how you didn’t mean to fall in love with your dead brother’s wife? Do you expect me to argue with you when you tell me it isn’t just about what you want anymore, but about what’s better for your nephew? Do you expect me to apologize for lying to you last year when I said I didn’t want to love you?”
Each word of the last sentence to leave her mouth is like weights bearing down on me, sinking me to the bottom of a lake. She lied to me?
“I get it, Ben. It’s my fault. I’m the one who walked away last year when you tried to love me.”
She tries to reach around me for the door handle, but I move to block her. I pull her to my side, wrapping my free hand around the back of her head and pressing her face to my shoulder. I press my lips against the side of her head, trying not to be affected by the way she feels in my arms. She grips my shirt and I feel her begin to cry again. I want to pull her closer, hold her tighter in my arms, but Oliver prevents me from doing that in more ways than one.
I want to say something that will comfort her, but at the same time I’m so pissed at her. At how carelessly she threw around my heart last year when I handed it to her. And how she’s doing it again now that it’s too late.
It’s too late.
Oliver begins to squirm in my arms, so I’m forced to release her so that he doesn’t wake up. She uses the opportunity to slip around me and out the bathroom door.
I follow her out of the bathroom and watch as she grabs her purse from our booth and heads straight for the door. I head to the booth and grab the diaper bag. Our food is still sitting on the table, but I think it’s safe to say we won’t be eating it. I drop cash on the table and head outside.
She’s next to a car, fumbling around in her purse. By the time she retrieves her keys, I’m standing next to her. I yank the keys out of her hands and walk toward my car, which is parked right next to hers.
“Ben!” she yells. “Give me my keys!”
I unlock my car and crank it. I roll down the windows and then move to the backseat and strap Oliver in his car seat. When I’m positive he’s still asleep, I walk back to her car.
“You can’t leave hating me,” I say, putting the keys back in her hand. “Not after everything we’ve been—”
“I don’t hate you, Ben,” she interjects. Her voice is offended and there are still tears streaming down her cheeks. “This was part of the deal, wasn’t it?” She wipes at her eyes, almost angrily, and then she continues. “We live our lives. We date other people. We fall in love with our dead brother’s wives. And in the end, we see what happens. Well, we’ve reached the end, Ben. A little early, but it’s definitely the end.”
I look past her, too ashamed to make eye contact with her. “We still have two more years, Fallon. We don’t have to end it today.”
She shakes her head. “I know I promised, but . . . I can’t. There’s no way in hell I’m putting myself through this again. You have no idea what this feels like,” she says, holding her hand to her chest.
“Actually, Fallon. I know exactly what it feels like.”
I peg her with my stare, wanting her to see that I’m not taking all the blame for this. If she wouldn’t have walked away last year and completely devastated me, I wouldn’t have spent the majority of the year resenting her. I would have never put myself in a position with anyone—much less Jordyn—to risk what I could have had with Fallon. But I thought Fallon only felt a fraction of what I felt for her.
She has no idea how heartbroken she left me. She has no idea that Jordyn was there for me when she wasn’t. I was there for Jordyn when Kyle wasn’t. And after losing two people we both loved, only later to be united with Oliver . . . it wasn’t something we planned. I’m not even sure I wanted it. But it happened, and now I’m the only father Oliver knows. And why does it all feel so wrong now? Why does it feel like I somehow fucked up my life even more?
Fallon pushes around me to try and open the door to her car. And that’s when it feels like I’ve been punched in the gut.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t know why it took me this long to notice. I grab her hand and squeeze it before she opens the door. The quiet plea forces her to pause and look up at me.
I look at her car for a beat and then back at her. “Why did you drive here today?”
Confusion clouds her expression. She shakes her head, “That was our agreement. It’s November 9th.”
I squeeze her hand even harder. “Exactly. You usually come straight from the airport when we meet. Why are you in a car and not a cab?”
She stares up at me, defeat consuming her eyes. She expels a quick breath and looks at the ground. “I moved back,” she says with a shrug. “Surprise.”
Her words impale my chest, and I wince. “When?”
“Last month.”
I lean against her car and bury my face in the palms of my hands, trying to keep it together. I came here today, hoping for clarity. Hoping that seeing Fallon would stop the war that’s been raging inside of me since things started up with Jordyn.
And clarity is exactly what I’m getting. Since the second I walked into the restaurant and laid eyes on her, that feeling was back in my chest. The one I’ve never felt with any other girl. The feeling that makes me so terrified, I think my heart is about to burst right out of me.
I’ve never had that feeling with anyone but Fallon, but I still don’t know if that’s enough to make a difference. Because Fallon was right when she said it isn’t about what I want. It’s about what’s better for Oliver. But even that doesn’t seem like sound logic when I’m standing right in front of the only girl who has ever made me feel this way.
Now that Oliver is sound asleep in the car next to us and no longer in my arms, I pull Fallon to me. I wrap my arms around her desperately, needing to feel her against me. I close my eyes and try to think of words that will fix this, but the only words that come are all the things I shouldn’t say. “How did we let this happen?”
I know as soon as the words leave my mouth that I’m being unfair to Jordyn. But Jordyn is also being unfair to me, because she’ll never love me like she loved Kyle. And she has to know that I’ll never feel about her the way I feel for Fallon.
Fallon tries to pull away, but I hold her tight. “Wait. Please just answer one question.”
She relents and stays wrapped in my arms.
“Did you move back to L.A. for me? For us?”
As soon as I ask the question, I can feel her deflate. I can feel my heart tumbling down the walls of my chest. Her lack of denial forces me to squeeze her tighter. “Fallon,” I whisper. “God, Fallon.” I lift her chin and force her to look up at me. “Do you love me?”
Her eyes grow wide with fear, as if she has no clue what the answer to that question is. Or maybe the question scares her because she knows exactly how she feels about me, but she wishes she didn’t feel that way. I ask her again. I plead with her this time. “Please. I can’t make this decision until I know that I’m not alone in how I feel about you.”
She looks me pointedly in the eyes with an adamant shake of her head. “I’m not about to compete with a woman who is raising a child on her own, Ben. I won’t be the one who took you from her when she’s already been through too much. So don’t worry, you don’t have to make any decisions. I just made it for you.”
She tries to push past me, but I grab her face and try to plead with her. I can see the resolve in her eyes before I even speak. “Please,” I whisper. “Not again. We can’t make it through this if you walk away again.”
She looks up at me, vexed. “You didn’t give me a choice this time, Ben. You showed up in love with someone else. You share another woman’s bed. Your hands touch someone who isn’t me. Your lips make promises against skin that isn’t mine. And no matter who is at fault for that, whether it’s mine for walking away last year or yours for not knowing I did it for your own good, none of it changes things. It is what it is.” She slips from my grasp and opens her car door, looking up at me through damp lashes. “They’re lucky to have you. You’re a really great father to him, Ben.” She gets in her car, completely unaware that she’s about to pull away with my heart. I stand here, frozen, unable to stop her. Unable to speak. Unable to plead. Because I know there’s nothing I could say that would change things. Not today, anyway. Not until I make things right in all the other areas of my life.
She rolls down her window, wiping another tear from her cheek. “I won’t be back next year. I’m sorry if this ruined your book, that’s the last thing I wanted. But I just can’t do this anymore.”
She can’t give up for good. I grip the door of her car and lean in to the open window. “Fuck the book, Fallon. It was never about the book. It was about you, it always was.”
She stares at me, silent. And then she rolls up her window and pulls away, never once slowing down as I pound on the back of her car, chasing her until I can’t anymore.
“Shit!” I yell, kicking at the gravel beneath my feet. I kick it again, stirring up dust. “Goddammit!”
How am I supposed to go back to Jordyn now when I no longer have a heart to give her?
