Chapter 1
His hands are on my hips and he’s smiling brightly as my father, who’s also smiling, tells a story. I try to plaster on the best smile I can muster. But it’s fake, it’s as fake as my feelings. Tragger looks down at me. He’s taller, but his arm is wrapped tightly around my hip like he knows I’m going to run. I might. I probably would, if he wasn’t holding me so tightly. His size and strength sometimes makes me feel small. He’s very handsome, I’m not going to deny that. And I do love him, I won’t deny that either. Just not in the way I should. It’s more of a brotherly love, a friendship type of love. One I don’t want to lose, but I do know I should let go. It’s not right for either of us.
“Dance with me,” he says pulling me to the dance floor behind him. Most of our co-workers surround us lost in their own moves with their loved ones. I try to imagine a world where I love this man, where I’d wake and not have panic attacks thinking I won’t ever be in love. I want that love people talk about, and I don’t wish to settle because that’s what people say is best.
I thought when I met Tragger that maybe I could grow to love him, more like the way a girlfriend should love her boyfriend. But it never came, every time he touched me, there were no sparks. Every time his lips touched mine, no ignition. I tried to brush it aside, brush away that doubt that’s always creeping in. Maybe I’m not destined to be in love, but just to be loved by someone else. Tragger whispers in my ear that he loves me, and I can’t say it as much as I want to, so I lay my head on his shoulder. I believe he may love me; just not the way I think we should love each other. He’s a good man and an even better friend. That’s why it’s so hard to do what I know should be done.
“Can I cut in?” I turn to see a fellow employee, who I’ve become close to lately. Him and his wife have become good friends of mine, in and out of work. Tragger nods and kisses my cheek. He breaks away and Benji cuts in. Benji is older; where I’m in my mid-twenties, he’s in his late-thirties. He doesn’t look it though. Not one bit.
“You look lost,” he says placing a hand on my hip. His wife’s not far behind him and she sees me and winks. She knows how I feel, and probably sent her husband to come rescue me.
“I am,” I say feeling deflated. My father taps Tragger on the shoulder and pulls him in for a hug. Benji sees where I’m looking and turns me so I can’t see them any longer.
“Do you love him? Are you crazy in love with him, Bexley?” he asks. I look into his green eyes and try to stop the tear that wants to fall. I manage a headshake, and he sighs. We stop dancing, and I notice he’s pulled me from the middle of the dance floor and now we’re at the edge.
“You need to tell him. You need to be honest with him. Don’t let this go further. It will hurt, I’m not going to lie, but it all hurts until you meet that one person who takes it all away,” he says glancing at his wife who’s now making her way over to us.
“I don’t think I can,” I manage to say, wiping my sweaty hands on my long gown that thankfully is black.
“You’re stronger than you realize, your heart is just too big. You can’t go through life pleasing everyone, Bexley. Please yourself, do something reckless; fall in love, fall out of love, have your heart broken,” he says grabbing my face kissing my head and then turning to his wife with a smile that’s just for her. Her sad eyes watch me and I know she wants to comfort me. I just can’t let her, I have to do it.
I manage to get the courage to walk over to him. He’s now in a heated conversation with my father. When they spot me, they stop talking, my father leans in and kisses my cheek and walks away. Tragger grabs my hand and pulls me to him. I stand my ground as his face scrunches up.
“We need to talk,” I manage to say in a steady voice.
“Can we talk after the party?” he asks, gesturing to the guests. I shake my head at him and look around to make sure we are by ourselves.
“I can’t do this,” I say pointing between him and myself. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind and shakes his head.
“Don’t be drastic, Bex,” he says using my nickname.
“I don’t love you like I should. Yes, I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”
He drops my hand and his face turns to shock. I don’t have any other words. He didn’t expect me to say this, I know he didn’t.
“How much have you had to drink?” he asks me, thinking this must be why I’m talking this way.
I shake my head, telling him no. “I’m sorry,” is all I say before I run away from the night and into the cool air. When I take my first breath outside, I somehow feel lighter.
Now it’s time for me to change, to go somewhere new, be someone new. I can do this.