So, I told her. I told her everything from the summer I loved him until now. I told her how he walked away tonight and how I didn’t know if I could do what he asked.
“Can I just sleep with him and try to figure it out?”
Clearing her throat and reaching for more wine, she said, “I doubt it.”
I winced a little. “I know.”
“No. You don’t know. You’re stronger than you think, girl. I don’t doubt that you can handle it. I know you can. I doubt that you can walk away without caring. You can’t detach from your emotions like that. Most people can’t.”
I nodded. “So, how do I avoid caring? Teach me.”
She laughed again, her colorful hair swaying with her shaking her head. “Brey, you can’t learn that. I’m detached because it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s also what I want. My detachment is my survival. Your love is yours. You love. I don’t. And it’s okay to love. It’s why we balance each other so well.”
“What?” I whispered.
“You only got to where you are because you loved your momma so much. You and your dad would have killed each other much earlier if it hadn’t been for that love. When she passed, you shifted your love to the Stonewoods. Now, you love all of us.”
I cocked my head. “Huh. I think we’ve had way too much to drink because you’re kind of making sense.”
“I know, right? I’m a fucking genius psychologist when I’ve had enough whiskey.”
The night regressed into nonsense after that.
The next morning, my phone went off like a siren, so loud and jarring I wasn’t sure which direction it was coming from. When I shot out of bed to turn it off, my whole body swayed in excruciating pain.
Hungover didn’t begin to describe what I felt.
I swiped the screen automatically, just needing the sound to stop. “Hello?” I croaked.
“You’re not outside,” Jax said matter-of-factly.
“What?” I tried to play catch-up.
“Are you asleep?” He sounded surprised and a little disgusted.
“I was,” I retorted back, wincing because I should have been whispering. Any sound louder than a whisper wasn’t helping.
“Well, let’s go. I don’t have all day.”
Did he sound pissy or was it just me?
“I can’t go today, Jax.”
“We go every Monday, Whitfield.”
“Not today,” I stated with finality.
“Why?” He breathed the question with an edge.
“Because I don’t feel up to it.” I didn’t owe him an explanation. He ran with me. Half the time we ran, we didn’t talk anyway. I never called him to run either. He just showed up. It was my time that he invaded and pushed himself into like everything else in my life.
“Is this about last night?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Hmm.” He waited a beat. “Then humor me.”
I sighed. The way he said those two words all the time, like we didn’t have all the history in the world to worry about. Like our feelings weren’t involved and this was just another day.