I’ve never been here before. I don’t fucking know. Right now, all I know is I want to touch him. I move toward him and slide my arms around his waist. He steps back, puts his hands on my shoulders like he’s going to push me away.
“Ben, stop.” He meets my gaze, but it hurts to see the skepticism in his expression. “You make it sound like I have no control over my desires, and that’s just not true. I have sex when I want with whom I want because it’s a conscious choice, not because I can’t control myself.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just know you have a healthy sex drive, you’re young, gorgeous, free. You should have sex when you want with whomever you want. But I’m realizing that’s not a scenario I could live with.”
“You sound like you’re looking for an excuse to push me away.”
“No, I’m looking for a reason not to, but you’re not giving me much to work with. I love you, Kat,” he says with extra force, almost as if he’s angry. “I fucking love you, so no, I can’t say I’m okay with the thought of you with someone else.”
The declaration stuns me. No one has ever said they loved me before. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but what comes to the surface first is fear.
I let him go and step back. “I don’t know what you want me to say here. I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, so I’m not going to say something you want to hear because you want to hear it.”
“I don’t know what I want you to say either, because it’s obvious we want two different things. I thought I could work with the distance. God knows you’re the only woman I want, but I can’t continue down this road pretending that when the time comes for you to leave, I won’t be heartbroken. That the girls won’t be heartbroken. Or that I won’t drive myself crazy with jealousy wondering who you’re with at any given time.”
The burn of something just short of panic stings my belly. “A week ago, we worked out a plan to see each other almost every month. Why is that suddenly not enough?”
“Because I’m not sure it’s going to happen. And I’m beginning to doubt your ability to feel the same way about me. Jaime said something that opened my eyes today. ‘The minute she sails, she belongs to the sea. Port to port. Man to man.’”
“Fucking Jaime,” I say. “Problem solved. That bastard’s never setting foot on my boat again.”
“Problem not solved, because Jaime is only one man out of all the eligible men out there. And his take on your lifestyle isn’t just plausible, but probable. I don’t want to believe it, and if this was just me, you bet your ass I’d ignore all the possible problems and take my chances with you, but it’s not just me, and to ignore it means putting their hearts at risk.” He gestures toward the car. “I couldn’t live like that, waiting for the phone call where you say you don’t want to do the distance thing anymore because you’ve got men lined up to be with you.” He exhales, and his shoulders slide lower. “I think it would be better for all of us if you and I just…stopped.”
He makes a motion like he’s calling someone safe at home plate. The rejection feels like a kick to my gut, and my lungs freeze to absorb the blow.
“Violet can keep helping you at the marina, and you can still give her sailing lessons if you want, but I don’t want to give them the false hope that you and I are going to be together. I should never have even entertained the possibility…” He doesn’t finish, just shakes his head. “I’m so fucking stupid.”
I don’t know what to do. Don’t know what to say. I don’t want things to change, but I know they can’t stay the same either.
“I care about you, Ben, and you know I love the girls. But we’ve only been together a little over a month, and I’ve been cultivating this dream for decades.”
“I know. That’s why I’m not asking you to give it up and stay, but I also know first-hand just how short life can be, so I don’t want to put us on hold.”
“There’s got to be a way we can work this out.”
He wipes a hand down his face, walks around me, and starts to pull open the door to the back seat. “If you figure it out, let me know.”
“Hey.” I put my hand against the door, angry at the flippant reply. “You know this is new for me. I’ve told you I’m not sure how to navigate a relationship like this, and you said you understood.”
He puts a hand against the car and his jaw is ticking again.
“A week ago, you said you knew what I was made of,” I say. “Now you’re accusing me of wanting to jump on the first guy I see after I leave here, six months in the future.” I release the door. “I don’t know how I’m going to feel in six months, but you’ve evidently already figured it out for both of us. Pushing me away is nothing but a fucking catalyst toward making your prediction a reality.”
He exhales and looks at the ground, clearly troubled, but he doesn’t apologize for jumping to conclusions.
I turn to walk away, then turn back. “You just told me you loved me and then broke up with me in the same fucking conversation. I may not know the ins and outs of a romantic relationship, but I’m sure as shit that’s fucked up.”
Now, I do walk away. I might not understand relationship etiquette or what’s happening inside me, but I know it hurts. And I know I’m losing more than someone to have sex with. A lot more.
20
Ben
I’m exhausted by the time I climb into my car to head home from the hospital. Every day without Kat gets a little harder, not easier. I hurt more, not less. And now, two weeks from the last time I kissed her, I’m as hollow as the shell of a cocoon.
I turn the key and let the SUV idle while I think about Kat. I’ve seen her a few times over the last couple of weeks, either when she’s walked Violet home or when I’ve picked Violet up from the marina. She’s the same woman I met almost two months ago, beautiful and easygoing, but now also distant, guarded, and not any happier than I am.
There’s only one thing that’s going to tell me whether I did the right thing by ending our relationship, and that’s time. Unfortunately, if I was wrong, it will be too late to do anything about it.
I wish I could see the future as clearly as I could when I called off our relationship.
Pulling out of my parking spot, I head home, trying to brush away the darkness so I can be one hundred percent Dad when I get there.
Spring break is coming up soon, and if I want to take the girls somewhere, I need to make reservations. I nix the idea of camping as soon as it comes to mind. That’s way too much work for me to be considered a vacation. Theme park also gets killed almost immediately. Jazz isn’t big enough to go on many of the rides, but Poppy is too scared to go without me.
Santa Barbara is probably the best idea. There’s the zoo and shopping and a natural history museum. I could probably manage kayaking if Jazz went in a boat with me and Poppy went in a boat with Violet.
But the idea leaves me listless, prompting my thoughts toward Kat. If I hadn’t messed that up, we could have rented a sailboat and have Kat take us out to the Channel Islands. We could take hikes and snorkel. We could all learn to sail. It would have been the perfect introduction to the amazing life Kat offered us less than a month ago. I can’t help but think about getting the kids back on the boat after a fun day, eating dinner on the deck, lying in the forward hammocks strung between the hulls, watching the sun set with a glass of wine.