He rolls his eyes. “Like what?”
My only response is to shrug my shoulders. A hobby might not be the right answer. Most of his problems and concerns are stemming from his father’s absence in the house and his passing. What is he going to do then? He needs to cope with this now, so that way when it happens, it’s not so much of a life shock.
“Have you thought about going to therapy? They have support groups I can recommend.”
It’s a tricky subject, but it might help him cope. There are three that gather and just talk about what they are facing, before and even after losing their loved ones.
“I don’t need therapy. That shit doesn’t work. A stranger doesn’t need to listen to my problems and give me some psychobabble.”
To be honest, I’m not a fan of therapy either. So, I tell him about my experience. When Dean filed for a divorce, my mother talked me into trying out couple’s therapy before finalizing it. She thought it would help us work things out, but it just made things worse. She kept telling us to speak our truth, whatever that was, and Dean mentioned many things that irritated me to my core. Things that he has never once mentioned to me, or complained about. Our sex life has gone downhill, and I never seemed present during the act. What a joke. The kicker was when he told the therapist that he felt like I stopped trying, and didn’t want to put in the work it takes to make a marriage successful.
“She told me I needed to work on pleasing my husband’s needs. Can you fucking believe that?”
The barista calls our names, and he instructs me to stay while he goes and gets our lunch. Should I even be discussing my past with Dean with Jeremy? Is it making him uncomfortable talking about my ex-husband?
“You only have fifteen-minutes left before you gotta be back. Sorry I took up so much of the time,” he says, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“I’ll be fine. Don asked if we were dating? I mentioned we were going to lunch.”
He puts his sandwich down and wipes his hand on a napkin. “If everyone thinks we are, then why aren’t we? I mean, you know how I feel.”
His eyes lock on mine, and in that moment I want to lean over and kiss him, but I don’t. Something is keeping me from giving in. Doubts or fears?
A woman approaches our table and stands next to me, looking down at Jeremy.
“I notice you didn’t have a ring. My name is Amber, and if you are ever free, I’d love to go to dinner.” She slips a piece of paper on the table and walks away.
What the hell was that? Why can’t I just say yes to him?
“Sorry about that. Seems no one wanted me until I found you.”
He takes his sandwich back in his hands and continues eating. The Amber girl is watching us, and I want to give her the bird, but that’s not ladylike and I don’t want Jeremy to think that made me jealous.
It’s silent until we are both done eating, and then he takes my hand in his, sending electricity up my arm. “I only have eyes for you. You’re worth the wait.”
Jeremy stands up, thanks me for lunch, and walks away.
Just give in already. Or you could lose him.