I love you.
I have had a few women say it to me. One or two even actually meant it or at least believed they did. The rest were just obsessed with our relationship not having progressed into sex after a few weeks of dating and wanted to give me a reason to fuck them, which I did. Because I'd have done anything to avoid having to say I love you back to the wrong woman. Inevitably I would piss her off in some way or another and she would end it or I'd just get bored and end it myself.
But that wasn't Stacy Kendrick. She did shit like buy plants for my place. Come over every day to water them herself. Keep expensive ice cream in my freezer. Have a drawer in my room. All of that was long before the sex.
Even after the sex though, she stuck around. Despite me being unable to commit to a real relationship, which was evidently the bullshit I told myself so I wouldn't get too attached. Well, joke's on me. I pretty much ended up in a relationship anyway.
The perfect relationship. The kind where you just click. Mentally, emotionally, physically. We just worked together.
So why, when I had her on her back beneath me, saying she loved me, couldn't I just say it back?
"You're not Stacy," said Willow, finally answering my Zoom call.
"Don't be rude. Hey Scottie. We missed you at your cousin's wedding yesterday. Terrible photographer," said my mom, an easy, doting smile on her face.
"I'm sure the photos will come out fine, mom," I said, missing a wedding being the least of my problems right now.
Don Angelo's deadline was about to be up. I hadn't seen Stacy since the incident. We'd been walking on eggshells, avoiding each other for the last day. Wasting precious hours. It was the first time I hadn't seen her for this long in six months. It couldn't be helped. We both needed space to think.
"Fine, fine. You'll do, I guess. How's Vermont? Tell us everything," said Willow,
"Nice to see you too, Willow," I said, slapping a smile on my face. "We uhm, got held up. No Vermont. Stacy had a last second admin thing to deal with at NYU so."
I lied because what the fuck was I going to say? Stacy's long lost sister is being hunted by her teenage brother? That's apparently how shit works in a mafia family when your psychotic don of a father leaves you feeling insecure and jealous over a sister you don't even know? By the way, did I mention that my girlfriend was part of the mafia just six months ago? Actually, Willow already knew that part.
"That's too bad," said my mom. "At least that means she got the box of things I sent to her though."
"Yeah, about that. Mom, why would you do that?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. "It's weird."
"I think it's cool. She should know what a dork you are before things get more serious," Willow teased and my mom nodded in agreement.
"She needs to know what a sweetheart you are so she can make an educated choice," said my mom.
They fucking sounded like they were on the verge of picking out an engagement ring.
"About what?" I snapped.
"Whether you're husband material or not. Honestly Scott, you're twenty five. People get married at twenty five and have babies," said my mom, sending Willow into stitches.
"Subtle, mom," she said, wrapping an arm around our mom's shoulders.
"Jesus," I cursed.
If they only knew that she almost walked out yesterday. That I stopped her in the stupidest way I could have instead of just talking to her. She might try again today. Soul crushing agony washed over me. I felt betrayed and hurt. How could she make that call before our time was even up? Was she that desperate to get away from me?
Maybe that's why the I love you wouldn't come out of my mouth. Why I fled the room. I was terrified of losing her even as she said the one thing that was supposed to mean I never would.
"I have to go," I said, suddenly needing air.
"Okay, but call us back tonight. Mom wants to know what Stacy thinks about your Mohawk phase," said Willow with a smug grin.
"That was a long year, but look at you now. A full head of perfect curls. Women adore that," said my mom.
"Hanging up now," I said. "I love you guys."
At least I could still say it to them.
"Love you too, baby," said my mom.
"Remember to check your messages for acceptable gift options for my upcoming graduation. Now that Vermont isn't a thing, you better be here. Okay, love you too. Bye," said Willow, ending the call.
"Chancer," I said with a grin.
My phone beeped and I knew without looking what it was. A reminder that the deadline was in thirty minutes. I checked my phone anyway, just in case there was a message from Frankie. Nothing. If I was going to talk to her, it may very well be now or never.
I knocked once before trying the door handle to our bedroom. To my relief, this time it was unlocked. When I entered the room, I found her sitting in the middle of the bed, the infamous box in front of her. A yearbook was open in her lap.
It arrived this morning. She didn't say so, but I knew she was looking forward to receiving it. I didn't have the heart to throw it out or set it on fire like I said I would. Doing so would have disappointed her. So I left it on the kitchen island for her to find.
"Of course that's what you went for first," I said, shaking my head.
"It was the only book in there. Don't judge me," she said, her fingers stroking the page with my face on it. "Blue is not your color, by the way," she said with a grin, referring to the color of my Mohawk.
"I was sixteen and I thought I was going to be in a band. That really was a long year," I said, sitting down next to her.
"Didn't you guys suck so bad the one time you played that you banished yourselves to spend lunch breaks eating by the bleachers for the rest of the year?" she asked, and I looked at her quizzically.
"You talk when you're drunk. A lot," she said with a little giggle. "Also, I got this. It's supposed to be a really special performance," she said, digging into the box to produce a usb drive. "I'm looking forward to it."
"I think my mom never wants me to get laid again. So much for babies," I muttered under my breath.
"What about babies?" Stacy said, cocking her head to the side.
"Nothing. Can we talk?" I asked, wanting to take her hand, but I was too afraid to after the way we left things. The way I left things.
"I don't really think there's any point," she said, returning the usb drive and the yearbook into the box. "Maybe the reason I said yes to you even though you were only half in this is because, on some level, so was I. The problem with that is I love you, Scott."
Her voice broke and I snatched up her hand into both of mine, consequences be damned. Until right that second, I'm not sure if I ever believed that a woman loved me or if I ever wanted one to. Unlike last time, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that she meant it.
"Stay," I said, kissing her hand. "This is a shitty situation to be in and I can't even imagine what was going through your head after your mom fucked with it. I should have understood why you would make that call. I know I didn't handle us right, but I've been devoted to you for six months. It
's been me and you and no one else. You of all people know how big that is for me, Stace."