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They always meant well.
“You really can’t cope with compliments, can you?” Jon had said, absurdly fondly.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jon said, folding Harriet into a hug, and she squeezed back, mumbling, “Thank you for inviting me.”
You’re one of the family. You’re more my family than they are.”
“I’m the luckiest guy in the world!”
Harriet had no moral objection to marriage; she just had no interest either. Doing it purely as a favor to someone else, and to meet society’s expectations, seemed wrong.
the subject came up again, she reiterated her stance: Nope, not for me. Not now. Not ever.
Two years of being fastidiously polite to them all, and for what? She was as much a disliked outsider as ever.
No idea, so much to think about!
“What the hell did you do that for?”
How did she end up here? What was she like?
“I don’t want to be with you anymore. This is over, Jon.”
“You don’t love me?” Harriet closed her eyes. “Not in the way I need to.”
What’s up next, you love me but you’re not in love with me?”
“A moment ago, I was getting married to the love of my life. This can’t be happening.”
we’re very different people, Jon. Tonight proved that.”
Deep breath: Say it.
“I very much do not want to see your family tomorrow,”
“Please. I’m begging you. This is breaking my heart. I can’t imagine life without you, Harriet. Please. Stay.”
Harriet said, her voice hoarse, “I can’t. I’m sorry.” “What if we agreed to some time apart, had a break?”
“It wouldn’t change anything.” “Is there someone else?” “One ...
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“You haven’t done anything wrong. Apart from the proposal.” “Apart from not being who you want.”
She was scared of her decision—scared at passing up someone who cared for her so much, scared of the loneliness on the other side,
even in the teeth of that fear, she knew no part of it was second thoughts.
As terrible as doing this was, knowing and avoiding that she needed to do it was worse.
Stop being such a pathetic commitment-phobe, she’d told herself. Happiness wasn’t a constant with anyone, it was an elusive, nebulous, fluctuating thing.
“I didn’t know what to say and when to say it. When is the best time to break someone’s heart?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I feel awful that I hurt him so much,
He created gratitude in you. Constantly. You felt gratitude that he was so obsessed with you,
Good women are not a rewards system for silly men.”
“He couldn’t be more considerate and respectful.
Harriet was hopeless at internet dating. Really, just shit at it. She didn’t sell herself well, didn’t choose well. By
You always care what people think of you, which is wonderful, but sometimes to your detriment.”
Harriet started to genuinely enjoy herself, and it was that double-plus sort of enjoyment you feel when it’s come out of left field.
He wasn’t someone she’d usually find herself with, and that started to become attractive in itself.
catch him looking at her sometimes, a sappy expression on his face, simply worshipping the fact she existed.
was hard not to be affected by how intoxicated he was by her.
Not only did being a Mrs. Someone not appeal to her, but she didn’t want the stress.
“An ancient thirty-four and antisocial as hell, to be honest.”
not knowing whether to feel exhilarated at being so decisive or slightly idiotic at being hustled into it, and settled on both.
Did he have a fundamental inability to take her seriously?
Never having to suffer his parents again was a joyous bonus of leaving Jon, no doubt about it.
By leaving Jonathan, she’d made herself a Bad Person.
He no doubt meant well, but these minor manipulations were making her even more desperate to be free.
She had empathy for Jon’s pain but no way to fix it.
I know you do, most people do.
I wish you hadn’t. If you’d let me help, I would have done everything I could to help.
think it’s a huge loss for both of us. If
It was pathetic really, but the fact virtually nothing here was hers felt like vindication that she was right to go.
