Love, Chloe(51)
“I’m assuming he’s still living here?”
“Yes. Justin’s home now. He works remotely and is actually upstairs in his office.”
“How long is he staying on the island?”
It was nearing the end of the summer, and Justin had given me no indication of his itinerary. Any time I would ask, he would say he wasn’t sure.
“Actually, I’m not sure. He can stay as long as he wants because he owns half the house, so we really don’t discuss it.”
“Can I be a little nosey?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Is something more going on between the two of you?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Well, a man doesn’t bark at another man like that about his friend unless he wants her for himself.”
“Justin and I have a very long history, but during all of it, we’ve never actually been together. We’ve never even kissed once in over a decade of knowing each other.”
“Really…”
“He can be protective, but he doesn’t want a serious relationship with me—especially now. He cares for Bea, but he doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t want to be with me.”
Something about having said those words out loud made me incredibly sad—and angry. Why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t Bea enough? Justin cared about us, but just not enough.
“Sounds like his loss.”
“Some things are just better left the way they are.”
“Well, now that you’ve cleared that up…can I ask you another question?”
“Yes.”
“Would you want to go out this weekend? The jazz festival is happening downtown. I’d love to take you…and Bea. We could go during the day.”
“I have to be honest because I don’t know if you’re asking me out on a date. I don’t think I’m ready for anything serious. But I do enjoy your company. So, if there are no expectations, I would love to.”
“I understand. We won’t call it a date then. No expectations…just each other’s company. It can get lonely out here on the island, and I feel grateful to have met you, to have found companionship at the very least. Even if it’s nothing more than that, I’d love to take you out. You need to get out, Amelia.”
“You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it. Let’s go out.” I smiled.
Slight wrinkles formed around his eyes when he grinned and said, “Saturday then?”
“Sure. I’ll see if Justin will watch Bea. If not, I’ll take her with us.” Deep down, I knew Justin was going to go ballistic. But this was necessary. If he didn’t want me hanging out with other men, then he damn well needed to explain why. If he wasn’t going to give me affection, then I needed to get it somewhere else.
“It’s really fine to bring Bea…” He winked. “Especially since it’s not a date.”
“We’ll see.”
Roger managed to escape the house without Justin coming downstairs.
When my roommate finally emerged later that afternoon, his mood was unreadable. He lifted Bea off the floor and tickled her belly with his hair as he spoke, “What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”
“Anything is fine.”
Carrying Bea over to the cupboard, he scratched the overgrown stubble on his chin. “I have to figure out what we have.” He glanced over to the trash bin, taking notice of the Maggie’s Coffeehouse cup. “Did you go out for coffee?”
“No. Roger brought it this afternoon.”
His jaw tightened, and his hand froze on the last item he was touching as he pondered that. “He was here?”
“Yes.” I sighed. “We need to talk.”
Justin closed the cupboard. “Alright.”
Just say it.
“Roger asked if I wanted to go to the jazz festival with him this weekend. I told him yes.”
He blinked a few times. “You’re going on a date with him…”
“No.”
“It’s a f*cking date, Amelia.”
“I explained to him that I’m not ready to date.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re not looking to date. You’re just looking for a casual f*ck.”
“It’s just an outing.”
He raised his voice. “It’s not just an outing. He’s a guy. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He wants to f*ck you.”
Justin was really starting to piss me off. My instinct was to scream at him, but I stopped myself. Instead, I just looked into his eyes—really looked into them. “What are you doing?”
I hoped he saw the pain and frustration I was feeling through my expression. Even though it was a simple question, I knew he couldn’t exactly answer me. It was complicated. I don’t even think even he understood why he was acting this way. But it had to stop.
Then, something in his eyes shifted. It was as if realization finally struck as to how unreasonable he was being. He didn’t want something more with me, but he didn’t want anyone else to have me either. He couldn’t have it both ways. It wasn’t fair, and I think in that moment it finally clicked.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, staring vacantly into space. “I don’t know why it makes me so mad. I’m confused. Fuck. I’m…I’m sorry.” He was still holding Bea and handed her to me before walking over to the window to stare out at the ocean.