“I’m sorry for what happened the night you came to my house. I didn’t deal with you fairly or honestly. And I wish I could take it all back.”
“All of it?”
“Yes. And I wish I would’ve just said, I’m not sure I can take care of you the way you need me to.”
She turns the overhead light on and shifts in her seat to face me. Her expression is incredulous.
“Tyson, I don’t need you to take care of me. I’m very good at taking care of myself. And you’ve never asked me what I want.”
“You said you want the fairy tale—white picket fence, two kids, a dog, yard.”
“That’s not what my fairy tale looks like. And I don’t need a partner to have those things. Not even the kids.”
I concede that point, it’s true enough. “Then why’d you talk about a fairy tale? Isn’t that how they all end?”
“Fairy tale—just means the way the world would look if I could have whatever I wanted. If I was a Disney princess, those things would be fine. But I’m not. I’m just a woman with brown skin and wild hair and more ambition than I know what to do with, trying to succeed in a world that’s not designed for my success.”
Minus the wild hair and woman part, I feel the same way. “So tell me—what would your life look like if you could have anything you want? At least in terms of the role you want a partner to play.”
She sighs in relief, like she’s been dying to answer this question. “It looks like me coming home to someone who’s not upset that work kept me. It means having someone to make dinner for, but who also makes dinner for me and doesn’t resent me for being too tired to eat it. It means someone who believes in me. Someone who I believe in, too. And someone who puts my needs ahead of his wants.”
“That’s asking a lot.”
She shrugs. “Not when you ask someone to spend their life with you, and you alone, forever until one of you dies. You owe it to them to at least try to give them what they want, even if it’s not something you want. I don’t want kids. I just…my mother dying when I was so young had a profound effect on me. I can’t control when my time will come, and I just…don’t want to leave my children before they’re ready to face life without me. But if I met someone who was all of those things and had kids already, I would embrace it. More than anything, Tyson, I want a partner who is as committed to my happiness as their own—who is as vulnerable and honest as I am.”
I process all of that and how it makes me feel. Especially the last part.
“Vulnerability is terrifying, D.”
“I know, and I’m not saying you should walk around with your heart on your sleeve. But the people close to you should never have to wonder where they stand.”
I nod in agreement. It’s not fair the way I’ve shut her out. So I tell her.
“I’ve had this plan and it ends with my mother gladly handing over the reins of the company to me.”
“Okay, but…why does that mean you have to shut everything else out?”
“Because I let a woman distract me once, and it’s taken ten years of really hard work to earn my mother’s trust again. And I don’t want that to happen again.”
“I understand. And I’m glad you shared that with me. But what has that got to with me?”
“Because, Dina, you distract me. And I’m in a really critical place right now. I can’t afford to fuck up or lose steam.”
“And I can?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“Listen, I get it. I learned the hard way that life didn’t care about my plans and that if I was going to do better than survive, I needed to be flexible and learn to let go of things and people who weren’t holding on to me as tightly as I held on to them.”
“Like me,” I speak aloud her unspoken meaning.
“Listen, Ty. Despite what you think, I know commitment can’t be bargained for. And that we want different things in the long term.”
I used to think so, too. In fact, I’d been so sure of it, I let this remarkable woman go. For the first time in a long time, I let myself wonder what if. We have so much in common. We’re both competitive, we love the same books, we love to travel, and our chemistry is undeniable.
But I’d made my choice about what my life was going to be based on all the things I knew I didn’t want.
I didn’t want love and all the drama and disappointment it comes with. I can’t afford to lose the focus it steals. And as much as I love kids, I’d much rather be an uncle than anyone’s father.
I want to climb Machu Picchu, not go to Disneyland.
I want a balcony that overlooks a river of streetlights and forest of skyscrapers, not a house with a yard and grass that needs to be cut.
But there’s nothing she wants that I can’t give her and still do all of those things. At least in the short term. I’m still focused on my career, and it will always come first. But it sounds like hers is just as important to her. What if…
“Dina, can we start over? Clean slate? Please?”
She’s quiet for a minute—and I know she’s not going to say yes.
I’m just hoping it won’t be an absolute no.
“I’m not sure a clean slate is possible, or wise. I learned some important lessons from this.” She speaks slowly as if she’s weighing each word before she says it. “But we can turn the page and start a new chapter this weekend.”
God, I’m the luckiest asshole in the world. “I like the sound of that.”
Her posture relaxes, and she smiles. “It can be a test drive for what being ambitious professionals and lovers at the same time would be like.”
That’s a little too forward looking for me. “And if one or both of us decides it’s not for us, we have a pretty rock-solid escape hatch in the ocean that separates us.” I stick my hand out to shake hers. “Deal?”
9
Lessons Learned
Dina
Tyson hasn’t let go of my hand since we shook on the proposition I made. And we make the rest of the drive in silence. I wonder if his heart is beating so loudly it’s all he can think about. Or is it just me who’s dying to reacquaint the rest of my body with the cool, sure glide of his palm?
If it was just my body responding, I might not be worried about how long I can keep these walls up. I’d forgotten that Tyson is the kind of man who breaks through walls that stand between him and what he wants. And clearly, at least for this weekend, that’s me.
I wasn’t prepared for his honesty or the apology he offered, or the dose of reality he served before he shook my hand. I need to process all of those things and make sure that even if Tyson isn’t sure what he wants, that I remain clear on what I don’t.
I know about the woman who used him to gain access to marketing data. I read the file. But he’s not the first person to fall prey to something like that. Otherwise, jobs like mine would be obsolete. But he acts like it revealed a character flaw. And I suspect his mother’s reaction to it didn’t do much to disabuse him of it.
I sneak a sidelong glance his handsome profile. His lashes and lips are both so lush and full that I understand why people call him pretty. But this man is nothing close to pretty. He’s lethally attractive. And from his fresh haircut to the elegant navy blue suit and silk dress shirt he’s wearing tonight, he’s the picture of a wealthy, successful, confident executive who has the world at his fingertips. It’s a less formal look than his work suits, but nothing close to what he looks like when he’s spending time with real friends.