He’s everything.
Only, he doesn’t really want me.
And he doesn’t really need me.
“He made it pretty clear that he didn’t want me last night,” I remind Foxy. “You should have seen him.”
“Yeah, well, I did see him, Meredith, and I think you need to give the guy another chance.
“Another chance? Why would I do that?”
“Because maybe he’s not as bad as he seems.”
“Maybe he’s exactly what he seems.”
Brave.
Sweet.
Gentle.
He’s a caring lover and he’s good in bed and he’s...
Well, he’s everything, isn’t he?
“You know, Meredith, I don’t give you shit often enough.”
“Excuse me?”
Foxy shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips. Somehow, she reminds me of my mother in this moment.
“But here you are, dealing with this great guy, and you’re upset because his reaction didn’t match what it should have been.”
“You didn’t see his face.”
“You’re right,” she nods. “I wasn’t there when you slept together for the first time. I’m a little glad about that because it sounds like it was a really private moment.”
I bite my lip. Private. I guess that’s a good way to describe the moment, but it doesn’t seem like it.
Why not?
Maybe it was just...so much more than that.
“But I went over there and I talked to him. Meredith, the two of you need to have a serious talk about what you want. Don’t just reject him based on emotion.”
So that’s what she thinks this is. She thinks I’m being ridiculous and emotional and that’s so completely wrong.
She didn’t see his face after.
She didn’t have to see his disappointment.
“Is he still at my house?” I ask.
“He went to work.”
“Thanks for letting me hang out,” I say. I reach for my own coat and push past Foxy to leave. Irritation slices through me. I don’t like that she’s bossing me around even though there’s a little part of me that wonders if she’s right.
Am I just being finicky?