I shake my head. “Nope. I couldn’t be with anyone at first. Then, in the height of my anger, I set out to bang as many women as I could, hoping I could fuck you out of my system, but it didn’t work. It made things worse because none of them were you. After, I’d feel even lonelier and the pain seemed sharper. It only served to make me angrier and miss you more. It was a vicious cycle I couldn’t break out of. And I was a prick, venting all my frustration at these random women because I couldn’t bear to look at them, knowing they weren’t you. No one ever came close, and I got sick of it. I turned to booze then.”
“Are you saying I’ve been your only relationship?” Disbelief is clear in her tone.
“Yeah, Hollywood.” I shoot her a lopsided grin. “It’s only ever been you.”
She nibbles on her lip as she stares at me with an assessing gaze. “You’re different.”
“I’m trying to work through my issues. Trying to be more open, more patient, and less angry. It’s a work in progress.” I rub the back of my neck. “I, ah, started seeing a therapist. I’d spoken with one in rehab, but Ash convinced me to see someone new to help me deal with everything that’s happened recently.”
“I’ve got a shrink too.”
“Is that why you’re journaling again?”
“Yes and no. I mentioned it was what Sheila had suggested when I was in therapy in Dublin, and Meryl said if it helped that I should try it again.”
“Is it helping?” I grab a handful of crisps, stuffing them in my mouth.
“Yes,” she quietly admits. “I’m documenting everything, and while it’s sad, it’s helping me to remember how fortunate I was to have known him. To have been loved like that.” Tears brim in her eyes. “I miss him so much.”
“I know you do.”
Silence descends, but it’s not awkward. It’s the most comfortable silence I’ve shared with her since we have been back in contact.
“I missed you too,” she whispers, pinning me with glassy eyes. “I thought about you a lot.” She sniffles, gulping a mouthful of wine. “I harbored a lot of guilt during my marriage for still thinking about you.”
“I went out of my way to avoid both of you at events, yet a part of me yearned to bump into you too. Even though I knew it would kill me to see you on his arm, I just wanted to see you again. To remind myself it had been real. That I hadn’t imagined it all.”
“You loved me?”
“Yes, Viv.” I hate she still doubts it. I hate I was a prick to her and I’ve made her disbelieve everything I say. “I know you don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you for that. I did you wrong, and I hate myself for it, but I never stopped loving you. I’ve been stumbling through my life since you left, and it’s been so lonely.” I draw an exaggerated breath, gulping over the lump wedged in my throat. “I know I can’t expect anything of you, but could we try to be friends?” We need to start somewhere, and I’m hoping she’ll agree.
“I can’t offer you anything more than that, Dillon,” she warns.
“I know, and I’m cool with that.” It’s fucking bullshit. I’ll be devastated if I’m permanently relegated to the friend zone, but I don’t want to put her under pressure. I’m trying to prioritize her needs, and this is what she needs now.
“Okay. I’ll try.”
I flash her a blinding smile, and she looks momentarily dazed.
“Why did you dye your hair and start wearing the contacts again?” Her inquisitive eyes probe mine.
“Honestly?”
Her scowl is instant. “No, I want you to keep lying to me.” Her eyes narrow.
Fuck. “I deserved that.”
“You are going to be in our lives, Dillon. You’ll be in Easton’s life. We just agreed to be friends. The only way this will work is with complete honesty. Aren’t you tired of all the secrets and lies?”
“I am, and it was all so pointless.”
She nods. “We can continue to beat ourselves up for the mistakes of the past or choose to move forward. To try to put it behind us.” Air whistles out of her mouth. “I can’t keep doing this. I want to wipe the slate clean and try to move on.”
“Will you ever be able to forgive me?” I hold my breath as I wait for her to reply.
“I want to, but I don’t know if I can. All I can promise is I will try.”
“I can’t ask for more than that.” I clear my throat. “I thought it might be easier for you to be around me if I didn’t look so much like Reeve,” I admit though it’s only half of the truth. I was stupidly hoping if I looked the way I used to look that she might fall back in love with me.