I frown, walking back and forth in the kitchen, looking at the delicious sandwich that I want to eat, but I refuse to he bought it.
He purchased the cupcakes too, and you just ate one.
“He told you about that?”
“It came up when I told him you didn’t need someone who would only be there when he needs some fun,” she explains to me. “The desperate guy who begged me for your address isn’t anything like the player I believed he was. I’m not judging you, but why didn’t you tell me that he’s been there for you?”
“It seemed pointless. Those were the times when we’d agree that things between us would never work. Nothing has changed. If anything, I realized today that I’m his fuck buddy,” I explain.
It felt weird to say, hey, I had the best week of my life, but he left me—again. It’s not much different from when my parents kept sending me from one place to another. Eros just appeared occasionally, and then he was gone for a long time.
“Things between us would never work,” I state. “For one, he’s older. He lives here. I live… everywhere.”
“No offense, but you sound like a Dr. Seuss book. I understand that you feel betrayed because earlier today he was with that girl, Misty,” she continues. “That’s something you two have to discuss. Now, about you two belonging. I’m not sure if that’s the case. Again, that’s something only you and Eros can decide—together. If you ask me, it’s time for you to find a home. You don’t have to be jumping from one place to another to make everyone happy. Also, he’s thirty-six. Only five years older than you. Do you have any other excuses?”
“He’s in love with Misty.”
“Liv, he’s not. The guy was distraught because he feels like he’s losing you. He’s beside himself. If I gave him your address, it was because he earned it, not just because he’s so freaking hot that I want you to tell me all about the hot makeup sex.”
“I heard that,” Calvin yells.
Holly laughs. “You’re still my number one.”
“It doesn’t hurt hearing it at least ten times a day, Hol.”
I laugh. “Go to your husband. You should stop worrying about me.”
“Listen, I’m not saying forgive him right away, but at least give him the benefit of the doubt. Or sleep with him one last time. Have you seen his body?”
“Good night, Hol,” I say, ending the call.
After hanging up, I see there’s another text from Eros. It’s a gif of a puppy saying sorry. I hate that he knows how to make me feel special.
Liv: Thank you for the food.
Eros: Can we try this again?
Liv: What is THIS?
Eros: Us.
Liv: There’s never been an us.
Eros: You can deny it, but there’s always been something between us. We can’t lose it.
Liv: I don’t think it’s a good idea.
Eros: I’m not giving up, Liv.
Liv: Goodbye.
Eros: It’s never goodbye between us, Liv.
Eros: Never.
I read the last two texts several times. Every time I say goodbye, he says this isn’t a goodbye, but a see you around. It’s like he just can’t let me go. I’m confused, hurt, and even lost. What am I supposed to do with him?
In my little experience with guys, when something ends, it’s over and we move on. Why is it never over with Eros?
He doesn’t love me. Why did I fall in love with him? Am I my mother? I call Dad.
When he answers, I ask, “Why did you marry Mom?”
“And I was worried about this call. I thought you were calling to discuss work-related matters. That would’ve been easy.” He chuckles. “Why are you asking that?”
“I know why you divorced. You didn’t love her. Why marry her if you didn’t love her?”
“I cared for her,” he explains. “I tried to do the right thing for you and for her. Mainly you. In order for her to live in this country, she needed to be a resident. It was best to marry her and get her a green card. I didn’t want to live away from my baby. I wanted my girl to have a family. It made sense to me.”
I sigh because so far, I can’t find anything in common between Mom and me. Dad’s reasoning is different. Mom came back to him because she needed help with the baby, not because she loved him. She said that to me while she was going through her treatment. “Why were you with Mom in the first place?”
“Why are we having this conversation?”
I explain to him how I have this idea of Mom having this unrequited love for him. He was with her because of the circumstances, but in love with Dan.
“Listen, I cared about your mom. Neither one of us was in love with each other, but we tried our best because we wanted you to have a family. I knew what it was to grow up with a single Mom. I didn’t want that for you. When we realized that we were both miserable, we divorced. Should we have handled your custody differently? I don’t know. Dan and I wanted to be part of your life. A part of me wanted to file for full custody but it wouldn’t have been fair to you or your mom. If I failed you in some way for trying my best, I apologize.”
“It would’ve been nice not to be jumping from one house to the other every year,” I say. It’s not a complaint. I’m over it; but to be honest, it would’ve been better if Mom had stayed in San Francisco until I was eighteen.
“Yes, but now you’re afraid that you don’t fit in one place,” he concludes.
He’s right. Maybe that’s why every time Eros asked me to go with him, I disregarded his invitation. What if he sent me away after he got bored with me? “I live afraid that no one will ever love me,” I say out loud.
“Home isn’t a physical address, but with those who love you. When you were in Canada with your Mom, Dan and I missed you so much. You’re our little girl. He loves you as if you are his.” He almost chokes when he says the last sentence. “We tried to visit you at least five times a year to make sure you knew you were still part of us. Love is complicated. Families come in all shapes. Ours isn’t conventional, but we tried our best. Will you find someone to share your life with? It’s hard to find love when you’re already in love with someone.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eros,” he answers. “Are you afraid that you don’t fit in his life, and that’s why you don’t let him in yours?”
“He’s never wanted to be a part of my life. Just some casual visitor.”
“Passing bystanders don’t stay for days when your dad has a heart attack. They don’t fly to Boston so they can help you during your Mom’s surgery and treatments…” His voice trails. “They don’t call your parents to check on them or wish them a happy birthday every year.”
“He’s done that?”
“I thought you knew.”
“He never told me,” I whisper.
Dad’s right. I love Eros Brassard. But I can’t go back to whatever we had. I need a lot more than texts and the occasional encounter that ends with a see you next time. It’s unsustainable. Our situation feels like a repeat of my childhood. We have a good time, but then he leaves. I’m left behind suppressing my feelings because I learned well to hide them from my parents. This time, I want something permanent.