Kiss and Don't Tell(107)
“Yes,” he says right away. “At the time, I thought it would be better to sever all ties. I would rather you lose me by hating me, than lose me still loving me. At least hating me you could move on, which you have. What if something happened to me, and you lost both your mom and me? I’m not sure you would’ve—”
“But I lost you anyway,” I nearly shout, my emotions getting the best of me. “I lost you anyway,” I repeat. “And who the hell are you to tell me what I can or cannot handle?”
“You were barely surviving as it was,” Josh shoots back. “I don’t want to rub salt in the wound, but you were losing yourself, you were setting your life to the side, putting it on pause so you could help everyone else. And where are you now?” he asks, his voice growing stern. “What are you doing with your life, Winnie?”
“I—” I go to answer but my words fail me, because even though I hate him, I hate him so much—especially in this moment—he’s right. He’s right that I put everything on hold, that I would have dropped my entire life to not only help my mom—which I did—but to help him, as well. Because that’s the person I am. I’m a helper, a lover, a caring individual. And I shouldn’t ever feel shamed because of that.
Josh steps closer, and for some reason, I don’t step away. “I know what I said to you and how I said it is inexcusable. At that moment, though, it was the only way I knew how to handle things. I see now that it was a huge mistake, because I could’ve used you going through treatments. I could’ve shared you with your mom, and I could’ve been there for you on my good days.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “I was scared, and I reacted instead of sitting down and thinking about the best way to approach things. Losing you is my biggest regret.”
“You—you broke me, Josh.”
“I know.” He takes a step even closer. Shoppers move around us, calls are made to the deli over the loudspeaker, and faint music plays in the background, but all of that fades into the background as I stare into Josh’s eyes. “And I’ll have to live with that forever, knowing the way I treated the love of my life.” He lifts my chin up. “I’m sorry, Winnie. So fucking sorry, and if I could go back and change things, I would. Instead of telling you I didn’t think you were pretty, I’d tell you that you’re actually the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Instead of saying I wasn’t attracted to you and that was the reason I couldn’t . . . perform, I’d tell you I had prostate cancer and that was one of the side effects I was dealing with. And instead of telling you I didn’t love you, I’d say you’re the love of my life, and I can’t imagine another minute knowing you’re with someone else.”
He can’t be serious.
He can’t possibly mean that.
Because if he does, if he speaks truthfully, then . . . then . . . everything I’ve ever known about the demise of my relationship with Josh are all falsehoods that hide the real truth. That he was sick, that he was hurting, that he didn’t need distance. He’d actually needed someone holding his hand, just like I was holding my mom’s hand. And yet, he chose to hurt the person he “loved” over and over again. For what? I truly cannot reconcile that he thought shattering me could be a good thing. And then he realized his error, but again, it was all about him. I could’ve used you going through treatments, he’d said.
“Josh, I . . . I don’t know what to say.” My mouth goes dry as I stare into his eyes.
“Then don’t say anything,” he answers. “I’m not looking for instant forgiveness. I know that’s something I have to earn.” He brings my hand up to his lips and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “I’m just grateful I was able to talk to you. To see you. And maybe in time, I’ll gain your trust again. And after that, maybe I’ll earn your forgiveness. Until then, I just hope to be able to text you on occasion, see how you’re doing. Would that be okay?”
I’m so lost, so confused, so knocked down emotionally, that I nod.
“Thank you.” He pulls me into a hug and presses a kiss to the top of my head. Before I can comment on his actions, he steps away and sticks his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I took up your shopping time.” He glances at my cart and smiles. “Making tacos?”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, still in a daze.
“He’s a lucky guy.”
I smile, but don’t say anything.
“Are you happy, here in Vancouver?”
I try to shake myself out of this haze. “Uh, I’m not here permanently, just . . . visiting.”
“I take it you have to get back to work?” he asks.
“Not really. I don’t have much to get back to. You were right—I did put my life on hold, and now I’m trying to figure out how to get it back on track.”
He looks at me gently. “You’re resilient, Winnie. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll figure out your next chapter in life, but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. I might not have been in the past, but I am now.”
“Thank you,” I say, my emotions starting to get the best of me. “Well, I should probably get back to finding the tortillas.”
“You’re close. If it wasn’t for bumping into me, you’d have found them. Right around the corner.”