Chapter Twenty-One
Lucy
“So, you’ve been seeing a lot of this Jason neighbor of yours,” Brianna said. “How’s it going?”
“I mean, it’s nice. He enjoys the outdoors like I do, so I don’t have to fake my want for spending time with him,” I said.
“Oh, but you would if you had to, right?” she asked.
“No. No man’s that important,” I said.
“Then why even bring it up? If you wouldn’t fake liking to be around him, then why would that be something you’re proud of not doing?”
“Bri, you’re getting ahead of yourself. It was just a statement,” I said.
“I think it’s because the relationship is serious,” she said.
“You think that because I enjoy not ‘fake liking’ my time with Jason, that it somehow means we’re in a serious relationship?” I asked.
“Look. If a woman fakes enjoying her time with a man, it means she’s desperate, right? Like, she doesn’t think she can find someone who actually makes her happy, so she settles. But, if a woman admits she would be willing to fake her time with a man because of how she feels around him but doesn’t have to fake anything, it means their relationship is serious because she’s willing to put his happiness above hers. It’s a serious relationship, trust me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Bri,” I said, giggling.
“Just go with it. How do you feel about it?”
“About what?” I asked.
“Jesus, Luce. Your time with Jason. How do you feel about it?”
“I mean, it’s nice. He makes me feel like his equal, and he’s not too bad to look at. But, I don’t wanna get ahead of myself. I mean, just because we—”
I paused, catching myself before I blurted it out loud, but I could feel my sister’s eyes on me as I poured us another cup of my homemade apple cider.
“Just because you what, Luce?” she asked.
“Shit.” I sighed.
“Oh. My. God. You slept with him? Luce, holy fuck, you got laid!” she exclaimed. “You have got to tell me everything. Shit, I thought you didn’t wanna be another woman in his Maximum train, sis. What the fuck?”
“Look, I don’t wanna get ahead of myself, all right? But, I think that Maximum rumor’s a load of shit. I’ve really gotten to know him over the past couple of weeks, and we understand each other. A great deal more than people realize,” I said.
“Uh huh. He understands how you like those lips licked,” she said.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked.
“Did he have a big dick? Did he know how to work it? Oh, did you ride his face? Tell me you rode that beautiful, strong jawline off into the sunset.”
“I’m not telling you a damn thing when you’re spouting off shit like that,” I said.
“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. But, really, did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes, I did. It was very nice, being with a man like him. Especially with all we have in common.”
“But?” Bri asked.
“But, I still feel guilty.”
I felt my sister’s hand come down on mine, and I blinked away tears I’d been holding back since last night. It wasn’t fair of me to feel this way, especially when I enjoyed myself as much as I did. But I couldn't help but feel I had betrayed David somehow.
Like, I had cheated on him or something.
“Putting aside the fact that Dave’s been dead for three years, do you really think he would want you to be living like this? Alone, cooped up, without doing anything but going to the diner and coming back home? A woman who enjoys the outdoors as much as you do, and you haven’t even stepped one foot into them until this hot-ass neighbor of yours came along?”
“I know, I know,” I said, groaning. “But David was my world. God, I loved that man with every fiber of my being. He filled me in ways I never imagined before he came along.”
“And I bet Jason filled you in some ways, too,” she said, winking.
“Seriously?”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry for real this time, sort of. But, anyway, would David want to see you this alone? Look, if David were here right now, and he still loved you, but the two of you knew you couldn’t be together, what do you think he would say to you?”
“To stay celibate because there isn’t another man like him out there?” I asked.
“Okay, now give me the answer he would give you. Not the one you keep telling yourself.”
“He would tell me to continue enjoying life because my smile was the only thing that ever really made him happy,” I said.
“So, if he really is looking down on you, then you need to understand you’ve robbed him of your smile for the past three years. He’s looked down on you and watched you be miserable until the past few weeks. You haven’t just brought yourself a bit of relief; you’ve brought him a bit of relief, too.”
Tears crested the rims of my eyes as I wrapped my free hand around my warm mug of apple cider. I knew Bri was right, and she had a point, but that still didn’t stop the little flare of guilt that was ebbing in my stomach. I wondered, for a split second, if Jason felt the same way, but just the thought of him bloomed a grin across my cheeks that my sister caught.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about. In this very moment, after that kind of conversation, what just made you grin?” she asked.
“If I tell you, you’re gonna tell me you told me so,” I said.
“Not this time, sis. But, you need to say it. Out loud. For your own ears to hear.”
She squeezed my hand, and I heaved a deep sigh. I trailed my watery gaze up to hers and lost myself in the comfort of her stare. My sister, for all the quirkiness and the ways we didn’t line up, had always been my rock. She had held me every night for months after David had died, and she had been the first one who came screeching into the hospital parking lot when I’d called her up, sobbing into the phone to tell her David was dead.
She had been there through everything, and she deserved to hear my answer.
“Jason. I was thinking about Jason, and it made me smile,” I said.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because,” I paused to pick the right words, “because I actually enjoy spending time with him. I enjoy hunting with him and fishing with him and eating with him. I enjoy having conversations with him and getting to know him, and I even enjoy spending time with his daughter. Jenna is just this little ball of energy, and she makes me smile every time I see her. And Jason warms me, I guess.”
“What else?” Bri asked.
“And holy fuck, the sex was phenomenal,” I said, breathlessly.
“And there we are.” Bri said. “Touchdown!”
“But,” I said, “I don’t know if I actually, like, care for him. You know, like I cared for David.”
“You mean love? You don’t know if you love him?” she asked.
“We aren’t using that word,” I said.
“And no one’s expecting you to. I’m just talking about you being happy with a man you enjoy spending time with. You obviously trust him and feel comfortable enough with him, after everything you’ve been through, to sleep with him. It doesn’t have to be love to be serious, Luce.”
“It doesn’t?” I asked.
“No. Being serious with someone means you enjoy them so much that you aren’t seeking out companionship elsewhere. It means you’d rather spend all your free time with them instead of splitting it up between multiple people because you can’t get enough of them. No one’s expecting you to fall in love, but, if I say so myself, if you give it enough time, you might do just that.”
“Oh, no. I’m not anywhere near falling in love with anyone,” I said.
“Then don’t overthink it. You enjoy spending time with him? Then keep spending time with him. He’s that good in bed, and you trust him with your body? Then sit on that man’s lap and ride him into town. Enjoy yourself, Luce. I haven’t seen you this bubbly in three solid years, and I noticed it the moment the two of you started spending time with each other.”
“What if he didn’t enjoy last night like I did?” I asked.
“Yep, you’re serious about this,” she said.
“What? I am not. It was just a question.”
“A woman who isn’t serious about a man’s happiness when he’s around her wouldn’t ask a question like that. She’d take the good sex and keep on trucking.”
“I’m not serious about him,” I said.
“Don’t overthink it. You’re smiling for the first time in three years. Just ride the wave. His daughter likes you? That’s a bonus. Single dads don’t stay with women their children don’t like. It’s just how that dynamic works.”
“And how the hell would you know this?”
“I dated a single dad once. His son hated me. Tossed me out the next day,” she said.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.
“Eh, we’d only been together, like, two weeks. Not a big deal. Anyway, back to you,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” I asked.
“Stop diverting. Feelings. Emotions. You. Go.”
“I’m okay. Seriously, Bri. I’m not having some existential crisis or questioning my entire life. I only feel a little guilty about being with someone since David died, and I’m wondering what to do next. Sex is usually the peak in a relationship, right? And we’ve peaked—what?—two, three weeks into this thing? Where do I go from here?” I asked.
“That question I can’t answer. That question is different for every couple. And I’m not telling you he won’t drop you like a hot potato after this because some men are just jerks. You might not give a shit about the rumors swirling around this man, but I do. I know you’ll keep yourself guarded, but I also know you’re coming to care about him.”
“He’s not like those rumors, Bri,” I said. “I’m serious. If you knew what I know.”
“Like I said, I’m on the outside looking in. You’re the one experiencing it. I can’t answer that question for you any better than you could answer it yourself,” she said. “I want you to allow yourself to experience the happiness you’re feeling in the moment.”
“And stop overthinking?” I asked.
“Yes. Definitely do that. You do way too much of that.”
I wanted to follow her advice, but things had too much potential to fall apart. What would happen with all of this if I moved on too quickly? I mean, no one wrote a book on how long you’re supposed to grieve over a dead spouse. No one wrote a book on when you’re supposed to get rid of their things from your home because they’re never coming back. No one wrote a step-by-step guide online about how long your heart and mind will grieve their loss before you can go hop on someone else’s dick and be just fine.
And I wondered if I was making the right decision, moving forward and being with another man even though David had passed only three years ago.
“I know you’re scared,” Bri said. Her voice ripped me from my thoughts, startling me as apple cider spilled over the sides of my mug.
“I know you’re wondering if you’ve given this enough time. If you’ve grieved enough for society’s liking before you move on and try to find someone else,” she said. I might never get used to her ability to read my thoughts so closely from my expression.
“And what if I haven’t?” I asked.
“Well, here’s what I know,” she said. “I’ve called you Luce three or four times during this conversation, and it’s the first time in three years that you haven’t corrected me.”
My eyes widened when I realized she was right. No one in my family had ever called me Luce until David made that his nickname for me, and after he passed, I forcibly corrected everyone around me who continued to call me that name.
But, I didn’t do that now. I heard it, I’d processed it, and I’d kept on talking as if nothing was wrong.
“So, for now, let’s take that as a good sign. You might not know how you feel, but you are moving on. And moving on doesn’t mean you didn’t ever love David. It just means you’re finally accepting the fact that you’re still alive,” she said.
“And that’s good?” I asked.
“Luce,” Bri said. “It’s very good.”
And again, I didn’t feel the need to correct her.