I scoffed at her simplistic suggestion.
“I know,” she conceded. “Saying it and doing it are very different. And I’m not going to pretend that I have any comprehension of how difficult that will be.”
I stared up at the sky, trying not to wallow in the bitterness of my widowhood.
“So,” she continued. “If we make the assumption that it could easily feel like betrayal no matter how long it’s been, can you tell me the other problems?” She sounded so maddeningly reasonable.
I shut my eyes for just a moment and breathed deep, trying to mentally store away that huge boulder of an issue before putting my other fears into words. “You know how messy relationships are. You know how they can destroy friendships. Sean is my lifeline right now, and if I screw things up with him, I will have no one.”
She was quiet for too long before saying softly, “You’d still have me.”
I winced, realizing I’d hurt her. “I know I would, Nae. You’ve always been there for me. But you know what I mean, right?”
“Yeah, I do. He’s there with you in person, and I know you need that.”
“I really do.”
“But he could be there for you even more fully if you let him in.”
I shook my head in frustration. “He’s not just an average guy, Nae.”
“I know that. He’s your best friend. That’s a point in his favor, not against. Everyone has flaws. You know about his upfront.”
“I’m not strong like I used to be.” What if I couldn’t handle Sean’s life this time around?
“You’re right. You’re stronger. Because that’s what life does to us. It throws obstacles in our way and when we get past them, we’re that much stronger than we were before.”
I rolled my eyes. Naomi the shrink. “Sure. Objectively, I agree. But that’s certainly not what it feels like.”
“I know.”
We sat in silence for several moments.
“So then,” she continued hesitantly, “why did you kiss him?”
A deep sigh escaped me. “Because I’m a mess.”
“It’s okay to be a mess sometimes.”
“Do you have any idea how much worse it will get if I’m with Sean Amity? He’s a celebrity!” Do I really need to point that out? “His life is already a disaster half the time.”
“And you know that. You know that better than anyone. You’ve dealt with it. You know how it works. You are not some shrinking violet who will be caught up in the glitz and glamor. You’re not a naïve little girl. You are a strong woman who has lived life. You have already lived this life, with him, and you know what to expect. You can do this, Libby.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to.”
♪♫♪
When Sean walked in the back door with food, I was cleaning. I needed my hands to be busy so that I would have something to focus on besides the fact that I’d kissed Sean. I’d kissed him. And I’d liked it.
All of my attention was focused on scrubbing the counter when Sean set down Chinese take-out containers in front of me.
“Did you get the grilled teriyaki?”
“Yes. I know it’s your favorite.”
“Thanks.” I kept scrubbing.
“The counter looks clean, Libs.”
I stopped the scrubbing but continued to stare at the counter. The longer I stood there, not looking at him, the harder it was to convince myself to look up.
He circled the counter until he was standing right by me, then he rested a hand on my lower back. “Hey,” he said quietly. “I know it might be weird right now, but you don’t ever need to be afraid to talk to me.”
My shoulders sagged and I turned my head to look up at him, my throat tight and my eyes stinging. “I just don’t want to mess us up.”
His arms came around me and I lay my head on his chest. After a few moments, he said, “Do you remember just how many times I messed us up?”
My eyes pinched at the reminder, but I nodded.
“So then, maybe it’s okay if you mess us up a little.”
I let out an unsteady breath. “Why is this so terrifying?”
“Because we care so much.”
We stood together in the silence, my mind racing with all the possibilities and pitfalls and implications, until I finally got up the nerve to say, “I don’t know if I can love you like I loved Jonas.”
His arms tightened around me. “And I wouldn’t want you to. I want you to love me in a way that’s ours and nobody else’s.”
The truth was that the love I had for him was already unique. It was forged in friendship and fire. Not better than my love for Jonas. Not worse. Just different. More frightening. More risky. But with so much potential.
“Give it some thought, okay?” he finally said into the silence.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He let me go and I busied myself pushing my hair behind my ears and smoothing my shirt over my belly before reaching for the take-out containers.
I did give it some thought. I gave it all my thoughts. I thought about it through dinner. I mulled it over as I did dishes. I contemplated the consequences as we watched a sitcom. Then I agonized over it as I lay in the bed I had shared with Jonas and listened through the open window as Sean played his guitar from his side of the duplex.
I couldn’t help wondering what kind of father Sean would make. I wondered what my baby’s life would be like if she suddenly became the bonus daughter of a famous musician. I wondered how much Sean would be willing to change his schedule. Would he be willing to step out of the limelight? Stop touring? Would I be able to handle it if he didn’t?
Would I? Would he? Would we?
♪♫♪
My back ached as I pushed the doors open to go out to the parking lot. Sitting at a piano for hours without any back support was almost getting to be too much. I wanted to take a bath. I wanted a massage.
I had almost reached my car with its blessed lumbar support when a guy stepped in front of me. I stopped abruptly, my eyes narrowing as the thirty-something-year-old fake-smiled at me.
“Hi. Sorry to bother you. I’ve just seen you teaching here and didn’t know your name.” He looked at me with hungry anticipation.
Warning bells sounded in my head and I instinctively put a protective hand over my belly. “Are you a student here?” I managed to ask. That was a normal question, right? It didn’t make me sound like I was deciding between fight or flight.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Well then, why have you seen me teaching here?”
“Are you Libby Caster?” He took an eager step closer.
More warning bells. I noticed the black case hanging on his shoulder. No doubt it was a camera. I took a step back. “Please leave me alone,” I said as I turned to hurry back toward the building entrance.
He quickly came around me, blocking my path again. This time he wielded a cell phone, no doubt recording video. “How long have you been dating Sean Amity? Is this his baby?”
I curled in on myself and tried to get around him again, my heart racing and my body tense. I hated this. Oh, I hated this so much. “Please leave—”