Dammit. That didn’t sound good. I didn’t have
a lot of experience in the dating world, but one-word answers seemed like a red flag.
I called her, but she didn’t answer. I waited five minutes, then called again. Still nothing.
My blood was starting to run cold. I knew that she understood that work had to come first, but had I handled the situation badly?
I sent another text. “Can I see you Saturday afternoon?”
This time she responded immediately. “No, I think I need a little space.”
My heart almost stopped. I felt like I’d been punched. My precious sweet girl was more upset than I realized.
Replaying last night’s events over and over while I painted marble texture on a huge panel, I tried to think of what I did wrong.
Then I realized that it wasn’t just how I treated her, it was how I treated Lindsay in front of Laurie. Not only had I behaved like a shitty boyfriend, I had not acknowledged her in front of an ex.
My steady painting hand wobbled slightly. There was no way I was going to lose the love of my life after just one week.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
* Lindsay *
Thursday night I had been too numb to cry. Friday night, I cried myself to sleep. But Saturday I woke up with a strange sort of clarity. After making a pot of coffee, I sat down at my kitchen table with a huge mug and my notebook.
Since I couldn’t quite get a handle on what was bothering me, I thought that I’d just scribble it all out until things became more clear. My handwriting was atrocious, but eventually, things started to make sense.
He made me feel completely rejected. I felt insecure, tiny. Dale probably didn’t know that he was triggering this, because I didn’t tell him.
I had never told him that I was terrified of being abandoned because of my father. Afraid of being pushed aside because of endless incidents in school. He’s not a mind reader. I can’t expect him to know personal things.
I don’t know how many women he’s gone out with, because I didn’t ask him. If he was with a loud chick like that who spoke every single thing that came into her head, he might not know how I feel.
He probably doesn’t know that I need a little time and space to think things through. He doesn’t know how hard it is for me to speak up for myself.
No matter how hurt and frustrated and angry I am with him, he didn’t intentionally do anything terrible. He was busy, overworked, and stressed out by a sudden emergency job. He was thoughtless. He wasn’t cruel. Just a little scattered.
What would my friends say? They would tell me to go talk to him. What does my gut say? That I need to tuck into that big strong shoulder and never leave.
By the time I finished my coffee, had a shower and got dressed, I felt a lot better.
I wanted all of the good points about having a boyfriend, but I was going to have to deal with the awkward bits too. And that included telling him when I was hurt, and why.
I’d never been very good at communicating with people, especially people I didn’t know very well. Even though I felt like I knew Dale intimately on some levels, I was going to have to confess that I was a bit fragile in some ways. It was going to be embarrassing and uncomfortable, but somehow I knew that we’d work it out. At least, I was pretty sure.
When I heard a tentative tap at my door, I instantly knew who it was. Dale was standing there with a bouquet of bright pink Gerber daisies looking completely stressed out.
Taking the flowers from him, I said, “Thanks,” letting him in while I found a vase.
He sat rather stiffly on the couch, staying silent until I settled beside him. He took my hands in his, turning to face me. His dark brown eyes were stormy, as if he were in actual pain.
“Lindsay, I’m completely over the moon for you. Knowing that I hurt you feels like a rusty knife twisting in my heart and I feel like I haven’t been able to take a full breath. I’m not quite sure what I did wrong, but whatever it is, I’ll fix it. I...” He swallowed hard. “I want to deserve a girl as amazing as you are. I want to be everything you need. Tell me how to improve, and I’ll do anything.’
I hated that I began shaking, tears filling my eyes.
“Oh god, baby, please, don’t cry,” he rasped quickly, “Please tell me it’s not too late.”
Throwing my arms around him, I needed to feel him against me. “It’s not too late. We can fix it.”