Sex, Not Love(72)
Thanks, it’s been fun.
See ya around.
Anytime you’re in town, stop in. My door is always open to you. And by door, I mean vagina.
Tips are appreciated!
I bounced from sad to angry and back to sad so often, it was just a matter of timing as to which Nat the poor man would get when he arrived.
Unfortunately for him, he buzzed when I was feeling pissy. I didn’t bother to wait at the door as I usually did, to admire his farewell strut down my hall. Instead, I left it cracked open and went back to the book I wasn’t really interested in on the couch.
Hunter knocked twice before pushing the door open.
I waved but didn’t look up.
Awkwardness settled in before he’d even closed the door behind him—at least for me.
He sat down on the edge of the table and took my legs in his hands. “How’s the patient feeling?”
“Better.” Acting like an insolent teenager, I still hadn’t looked up at him.
He waited me out—saying nothing for a few minutes, until I glanced up to see what he was doing. And then he trapped my gaze.
“There she is.”
His smile served only to piss me off further. He looked his usual casual, beautiful self, and I wanted him to look like I felt inside—a mess. I hated that he was so unaffected by our saying goodbye.
“Can we just say goodbye and get this over with?” I bit out with as much snark as I could conjure up.
At least his smile fell. “Natalia…”
“Seriously, we’re both adults. It was fun. Now we’re done. I’m not up to giving you one last blowjob, if that’s what you’re hanging around expecting.”
Hunter’s head dropped, and he stared down at the ground for a minute. When his eyes returned to my frigid ones, I saw pain behind them. “I…I never meant to hurt you, Natalia.”
My mouth started going without my brain thinking it through. “Well, you did. You know why? Because this was never just fucking. You can say whatever you want, but you knew it from day one, too. You don’t have dinner with a woman’s family, help her daughter with her hook shots, and nurse her when she’s sick when it’s just fucking. And at this point, I find it insulting that you would even pretend that’s all we had.”
Hunter ran his fingers through his hair and blew out a deep breath. “You’re right. We were always more. But that doesn’t change that I need things to end.”
It felt like someone had sliced right into my heart. I swallowed.
“Maybe not. But you know what it does change?”
“What?”
“You owe me an explanation.”
Hunter looked me directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Nat. I really am.”
I couldn’t stop the tears that started to fall. But I also wanted some shred of dignity. “Just go. Please.”
I felt him staring at me, but I wouldn’t look up. Eventually, he stood. He caressed my hair one more time before he leaned down and kissed my forehead. Then he left without another word.
I cried the most awful cry after the door clicked shut. The funny thing was, with everything I’d gone through with Garrett, I didn’t cry once. My marriage had imploded in an instant. After the initial shock of my husband being arrested and finding out he wasn’t the man I’d thought he was, I’d moved directly to anger—almost skipping the entire phase of loss where I should’ve been upset.
Yet even with all of the chaos Garrett had thrown my way, I’d never felt hope was gone. I’d felt disappointed, dejected, foolish, let down in a million ways, but I’d never doubted that I deserved something better that was out there just for me.
Today I finally realized why I’d felt that way—because there was someone better out there who was exactly right for me. The only problem was, that someone had just walked out my door, taking the last of my hope with him.
Chapter 32
Natalia
A week later, my health was back to normal, but my heart hadn’t even begun to mend. A part of me regretted how Hunter and I had said goodbye, or rather how I’d said goodbye. I’d acted immaturely, blaming him for something that really wasn’t his fault. He’d been up front with me from the start. Yet in the end, it was me who hung on to hope that he’d change his mind. It was foolish.
The thing was, I knew Hunter had feelings for me. I just didn’t know why he wouldn’t do anything about them or try to make us work. And because of that, I didn’t get real closure. It was more like I was moving on and leaving something important behind.
Yesterday, one of the dads I often spoke to during Izzy’s basketball games had asked me if the guy who’d come to the games recently was my boyfriend. It hurt so much to say no—to admit aloud that Hunter was gone from my life for good—that I hadn’t even realized why he’d asked me. When the next question came, asking if I had plans Friday night, I was completely oblivious to the fact that he was asking me out to dinner.
The poor guy had to explain what he’d meant, only to be rejected. But there was no way in hell I felt ready to jump back into the dating world yet.
So here I was, alone on Friday night, eating a pint of Cherry Garcia straight from the container while my sixteen year old got ready to go bowling with a boy. At least one of us had a life.