My Summer in London (My Summer #1)(47)
After Nessa paid for the dress that she would no doubt wear tonight, we strolled towards the nearest café for some much needed cappuccino. It was late in the afternoon on a Saturday, and instead of looking forward to a night out with my school friends, my mind was drawn towards one particular person.
It had been two days, and I was riddled with guilt for acting like a horrid bitch. For one, I had gone and accused him without even waiting for him to confirm it. However, he was reluctant to provide me with the answers I needed, so my bitchiness meter skyrocketed to a new level. I was in the wrong, or maybe he was for being such a prick about everything. Nevertheless, it didn’t justify my outlandish attitude. And for that very reason, my guilt ate at me, so much so that I couldn’t even look him in the eye yesterday.
This whole confusing relationship with him, the ins and outs of sexual partnership, was just too much. It was overloading my na?ve brain. If this happened with a guy from school, it wouldn’t be so hard to decipher. However, since this involved a man who was six years older than me and who was used to running the world with a snap of his fingers, there was a delicate yet complicated sophistication I wasn’t accustomed to.
“All right, I’ve had enough. I’ve been rather patient, but now you’ve got to tell me who’s behind the frown that’s semi-permanently pasted on your face.” Nessa gave me a sharpened look, much more intuitive than I had given her credit for.
Was I that obvious? I had hoped my complications with Cruz would remain a secret, but now that Nessa was curious, maybe it wouldn’t be such a problem to disclose some of the things that had been hounding my mind all night and day.
Releasing a heavy sigh, I began to divulge my situation in a way that only gave enough to cover the angst and the confusion I had to deal with on a daily basis.
By the time I finished, Nessa had barely touched her coffee, so engrossed with my story. After a while, I patiently stared at her, waiting for her constructive criticism or anything to help me figure this out. I felt like I was too deep in the odd relationship for me to see reality.
She let out a whistle before sending me one of those smiles, one that indicated I was literally f*uked in all aspects.
“So, you’re telling me that you cannot—it’s just impossible—to resist or decline this man’s advances even though you sort of hate yourself for giving in?”
“Well, not exactly hate myself … maybe just a little,” I began, hoping to convey my concerns and frustrations without looking vapid or whorish. “It’s just … It’s more like I don’t like the fact that he has so much power over me … and we’re not even dating, you know. Top that with the recent broken engagement he had, and well, it’s just too much of an overload for me.”
“Serena …” Nessa gently reached out for my hand before giving it a small squeeze and sending me a pleading look. “You’re in love with him. You know that, don’t you?” She held up her palm, as if to stop me from arguing her observation. “I know you’re going to say it’s impossible since it’s early, but think about it … How long has this tug of war between you two gone on? Over two months? It’s disconcerting—that’s understandable—but it is what it is. Love doesn’t know time. It doesn’t have a switch you can turn on or off whenever it suits you. It simply is.”
“But love?” I gasped in shock, in horror. Oh. My. God! “I couldn’t be …” I breathed out, about to faint. “No!” I choked out.
“The more you insist it isn’t, the more it’ll prove you wrong. I think it’s wiser to simply let it be. You don’t have to embrace the fact if you don’t want to, but at least acknowledge it. That’s the least you can do for some peace of mind.”
“Shit!” I was f*uked, and I wasn’t sure if I could recover from this. My head shook in disbelief, in utter denial as I ran through my feelings. Sure enough, all the signs were there, but falling in love with him had never occurred to me. Why was that? It could possibly be because I was too focused on loathing him and too distracted by overwhelming lust each time my eyes saw him.
My chest tightened as my heart galloped, recalling the last time I had encountered him.
I was in love with Cruz Elliot, and it was going to be a f*uking disaster of crazy magnitude.
Nessa and I stayed for another hour. The time was spent with her consoling me and trying to help me see it in a different outlook by pointing out the positives instead of the negatives, like how I had been doing. Hearing her opinion made me realize it probably wasn’t as bad as I had pictured it.
She advised that I slowly wrap my head around the idea, and if I wasn’t ready to commit and be with Cruz, then maybe it was best to cut off being intimate with him since it was unfair to Cruz and to myself.
Coming home that evening, the prospect of going out, priming myself to get ready and party, got dimmer as the seconds ticked away. My thoughts were consumed by the conversation I’d had with Nessa and what I intended to do about it now that I realized what I felt for Cruz.
Already decided, I began to text Nessa to inform her that I was going to stay in for the night. I knew she would understand where I was coming from and how troubled I was after we had parted less than an hour ago.
I had every intention of staying in bed and munching on junk food while I watched some cheesy movie in bed. After watching a comedy, however, I felt even more depressed than I had before. The despair in me was real, and it wasn’t going away soon. Therefore, I thought of other things to distract me.