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“Some people don't understand the promises they're making when they make them," I said. "Right, of course. But you keep the promise anyway. That's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway.”
“Ice queen, huh? I’ll give you ice queen.” Then I dumped the entire thing in his lap.
Fueled by mimosa and the fury of a woman scorned, I charged for the dance floor at the front of the room, where Santa was standing in front of a red velvet throne and speaking into a microphone.
At home, all I did was sit around and wonder where the fuck I’d gone wrong.
I liked the smell of winter, the sharp sting of the air in my lungs, the crunch of the snow beneath my boots.
“But aren’t you tired?” “A little. But please don’t tell me I look it. I’m going to lose my mind if one more person tells me I look exhausted. Or skinny. Or worried. I’m working on all of it.” “You look just beautiful to me.”
That is, if you could call lying awake panicking about your hot mess of a life being a night owl.
I could not imagine this woman being naughty in any way, shape, or form. Well, I could, but I was trying not to.
“Nope. Where do you even find guys like that—good guys who’ll treat you right but have that alpha male attitude behind a closed door? Is it a law enforcement thing? Maybe I should start hanging around the fire station.”
“I know a lot of things.” “Like what?” she whispered. “I know your husband was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. I know you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And I know I should leave right now, before I do something stupid.”
He was gone before I could even say goodbye. Or tell him not to be sorry. Or beg him to kiss me again.
“Did you kiss him back?” “Um, yes. Very enthusiastically. I’m actually a little embarrassed at how enthusiastically I kissed him back.” “Why?” “Because I totally grabbed his ass.”
“She’s so damn beautiful. And sweet. And vulnerable. I always thought she was nice, but now I can’t stop thinking about her in ways that are . . . not nice. They are not nice at all. They’re downright filthy.”
“She sounds very smart and self-aware.” “She is.” I frowned. “But it’s not her self-awareness I want to fuck.”
Hating him all over again, I changed his name to Dipshit Asshole in my Contacts, got off my bed, and went to her bedroom door.
“I know I’m not making much sense. One day I’m here saying I just want to be friends and three days later I’m here trying to seduce you.” “It worked like a charm.”
“Sylvia, I’m going to say this once,” Henry said seriously. “And then, since you’ve learned not to trust words entirely, I’m going to spend the rest of the night showing you that it’s true—I think you are the most exquisite woman on the face of the earth, in every way. There is no part of your body, no inch of your skin, that isn’t perfect, because it’s yours.”
“And all I want to do is make you mine, even if it’s just for tonight.”
“What was I thinking?” “You were thinking about fucking me,”
“You really want to be in here as Big Dick DeSantis?” “A hundred percent yes,” I told her.
We’re all just stumbling our way through life, hoping to arrive at the right destination. If something makes you feel good on the way, why not do it?”
For so long, I’d lived in fear of being abandoned, of being alone and having to start over, of failing. And I let that fear prevent me from leaving a marriage that not only didn’t fulfill me, but robbed me of joy, of confidence, of self-worth.
“I think I’ve got a crush on my teacher.” Our eyes met, and the small room crackled with electricity. “Then come sit on his lap.”
I tilted my head and looked up at the sky, wondering which star was the right one to wish on, the one with the most luck, the most magic, the most power to deliver on its promise. But if my chances of finding it were one in a hundred billion, what hope could I have that Sylvia might one day really be mine?
“Okay, okay. Sorry. Misbehaving is new to me, and I’m a little addicted to it.”
“So,” Noah said, tipping up his beer. “How long have you been in love with Sylvia?” I made a sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. “Uh, since I saw her in that skirt?” Noah nodded and touched his beer bottle to my glass. “Good answer.”
“I want to be good to you out loud. I want to help you settle into your new life here—I want to be part of it. I want to take you back to that party and kiss you at midnight.” He kissed my lips. “I want you to be mine for real.”
“You’re crazy, you know that? You could have anybody you want.” “I just want you, Sylvia.” He brushed my hair back. “Tell me there’s a way.”
“I don’t know, Whit. I could make something up and tell you that you just know, but the truth is, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes what looks like real love turns out to be infatuation. Sometimes real love exists, but people drift apart. Sometimes love is real, but the circumstances are all wrong. Love is tricky. And messy. And hard to explain.”
wondering how the hell you got over losing someone who was never yours in the first place.
“Because when I think about her, my heart races. Because when she’s in the room, I can hardly breathe. Because I want to be with her all the time. Because I want to do things for her that make her smile. Because when she’s happy, I’m happy. Because she’s the first person in my head when I wake up, the last person I think about before I fall asleep, and the only person in the world who makes me feel like I’m the person I want to be.”
damn it, Sylvia, you’re going to let me try. You’re going to let me stick around. And you’re going to let me love you, and prove to you that we can build something so real and so strong, it’s unbreakable.”
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. And I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you know it.” I laughed and sniffled. “I don’t mind at all.”
