“No.”
He nods, and it’s one of finality, like the discussion stops here.It’s not lost on me that he doesn’t question Robbie or make a judgment about him.Of course he wouldn’t disparage him that way, but it does have me curious if they ever talked about it.I was under the impression guys talked about sex a lot.And now I’m questioning if everything Robbie told me was a lie to cover for the areas he didn’t feel comfortable in.
“Do guys talk about sex stuff?”I blurt out.
“Sometimes.”
“Did you and Robbie?”Now I’m wondering if Robbie told Tristan about things I liked, and if he did, I don’t know whether to feel violated that he shared such personal information or grateful because that would explain a little why the sex with Tristan was so explosive.
“Not a lot.”
“How come?”
He looks at me like I should understand why not, and then it hits me.Of course they didn’t.Why would he want to torture himself hearing details about the sex life of the woman he thought he’d never have?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He slides his pointer finger down my cheek, the roughness of his callused fingers tingling against my smooth skin.“For what?”
How can I put into words what I’m sorry for?For all the years he loved me from afar?For choosing his best friend because I thought he’d never ask me out?For being completely ignorant of his feelings for the past eleven plus years?
As it turns out, I don’t have to vocalize it because Tristan knows me too well and figures it out.“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Jo.It was no hardship to love you.It might’ve been lonely, but I knew you were loved and cared for and happy, and that’s all I ever wanted for you.”He says it like it’s so simple when we both know it’s not.
He plays with my fingers as we lie together.When his body stiffens, I know he’s discovered what I hadn’t shared with him yet.I figured with how observant he is, he would’ve noticed sooner, but I guess not.He lifts his head, pulling my left hand closer and examining the finger missing a piece of jewelry I’ve worn since I got engaged at nineteen.
When his eyes search out mine, I have to remind myself to breathe with the intensity emanating from his gaze.“You took it off.”
He’s not asking, but I nod anyway.“It was time.I knew I wanted to be with you like this, and it didn’t feel right to make love to you while wearing his ring.”
He stares at me, and I can see a million questions in his gaze, but instead of asking any, he slides his fingers into my hair and pulls me in for a deep, searing kiss.
When he pulls back, he keeps my body close to his.“I love you, Jolie.”
He kisses me again—fiercely—giving me an excuse not to say the words back.I don’t know if it’s because he knows I can’t say them yet or because he’s afraid I don’t feel them.Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.Everything feels like it’s moving at warp speed, and while I’m feeling things for Tristan I’ve only felt once before, I’m still not ready to say the words.