Page 40 of Forever Fighting
“Do you want to travel again?” he questions, snapping me out of my thoughts as we cross over the street via a walkway.
“We are,” I quip. “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now? We’re here, and then we’re going to Mexico.”
“Yes. But back to Europe. You seemed to like it there.”
“I did like it there. I’ve always wanted to go to Greece,” I admit. “See all the history and those blue domes in person.”
“We’ll do it then. A second honeymoon.” He winks at me aswe head up toward the Venetian and walk inside, simply meandering through. “Gelato?”
“Definitely.”
We get in line behind a cute couple who can’t stop kissing, and if that’s not bad enough, there’s a bachelorette party off to the side taking pictures.
“I had no bachelorette party planned,” I murmur, watching the bride pose and smile like her life is as happy as it could possibly be. I hope it is. I hope she gets the fairy tale and the happily ever after.
“I hadn’t thought of it until now, but yeah, you’re right. How come?”
I shrug. “Adam was going to have one. In three weeks, you guys were all going to Miami. I’m positive he would have fucked at least one woman during that weekend while I was home working.”
He shifts his weight. “Likely not. As you said, I was going to be there.”
I look up at him. “Why didn’t I plan one?”
He angles down to me. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you?”
“We were going to have a night out in Boston maybe. I don’t know. Nothing got planned. Not like Miami for you guys.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” I wave him away. “I didn’t think about it much, and I kept brushing off the girls when they’d ask.” I shift to face him as we inch forward in line. “Actually, it’s not fine, is it? This trip is the first thing I’ve done for myself, and you had to drag me along to get me to do it. I don’t put myself first enough.”
“Now you can start.”
I intend to. I don’t mean that in a selfish, me-only way, but I should prioritize myself more than I have in the past. Then it hits me. Kind of hard. Like a bullet or blunt force trauma, onlyinstead of bleeding out and dying, I’m coming back together. I’m living.
“I think I’m relieved.”
His brows scrunch, but his eyes are intense. “How so?”
“He was cheating on me, and I discovered it. I didn’t marry him and learn about it later. I keep thinking… what if I had? Would I have left him? Would my life forever be ruined? Or even worse, what if I had never learned about it, and what he did to me always remained a secret to me?”
Roman is quiet and introspective as he stares straight ahead.
“We didn’t sleep together much these last few weeks, so I’m happy about that too,” I continue. “I’m sad, but not the way I expected to be so soon after it happened. Maybe I’m still in shock or denial. Those are the first stages of grief, right? But I hate him more than I’m heartbroken or missing him. Losing Nash felt like the worst thing ever, but losing Adam doesn’t have the same oomph. If anything, I’m mourning the idea of it all. The years of friendship. The years of a relationship. The life I had built up in my mind. The certainty and plan we had. I miss him, or at least that part of him, but I’m going to be okay. After Nash died, I didn’t have the same thought. I remember thinking I was never going to be okay again. Now I know I will be.” I gaze up at him. “Does that make me a terrible person? Does it mean I never truly loved Adam the way I thought I did? Was I simply with him because he was Adam, and it felt safe and smart and okay after all I went through losing Nash? Or am I still angry and headed to that stage of grief?”
His chin dips toward me. “Only you can answer that, kid.” His voice is thick, and his breath is shaky, and I know it’s because of what I just said about Nash. I’m not trying to hurt him, but I always thought of Nash as the love of my life, and Adam never quite fit that mold. That’s all I was trying to say.
But in retrospect, I’m not sure either of them was. I have to imagine the love of my life is yet to come.
“Do you ever picture yourself getting back together with him?”
I hold up my left hand. “I am a married lady now.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m serious. Do you?”
I give this some serious consideration. “No. I don’t. I’ll never get that vision of him coming inside her out of my head. The betrayal is so absolute. Above friendship and love. There is no forgiveness or acceptance that could push it out. But more than that, I don’t want to. He’s not my one. I just didn’t know it until now.”
His eyes search mine before he looks away and rubs the top of his head, almost as if he doesn’t know what to do with that. Finally, he says, “Then it’s a good thing you didn’t marry him.”
