“Right.” Mel stared Darcy down. “So how’s this going to end, D?”
The end was a done deal. Seven years ago. Again, two days before when she discovered Beck had cut her out of the decision to take the road to Splitsville. More men taking care of business for their women. Her father, Preston Collins, Fran?ois, every guy she’d ever dated, really, and now Beck. She almost rolled her eyes at the canyon of self-pity his actions had opened up. Her heart was set to deluded, and now she wanted to wallow in her own stupidity for a while.
“It’s not going to end with me forgiving him.”
“Hmm. Men are just manipulating douche canoes,” Mel said in sympathy.
“Testify.”
“They leave the toilet seat up, can barely walk and chew gum at the same time—”
“Act like they know best,” Darcy cut in, getting warmed up.
“That’s their problem. They think they know best, but in this case . . . I have to agree.”
Darcy was stunned. “I can’t believe you’re taking his side.”
Mel blew out an oh-girlfriend sigh. “It was a long time ago and he was crazy about you. That’s gotta count for something.”
Darcy didn’t doubt Beck’s feelings for her all those years ago, but it was tainted, corrupted, ruined, by his high-handed behavior. What gave him the right to ride solo on such an important decision?
“I’ve spent the last few years building myself up. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me. Who pays lip service to the notion of my strength but wants to pull the lever behind the curtain.”
“Like your dad.”
“What?”
“You know.”
She did. Every man who crossed her path was assessed with the checklist: was he bossy, manipulative, demanding, in any way like Sam Cochrane? One tick was enough to scuttle any potential relationship. But at the same time, she was drawn to decisive, confident men. Men like Beck who knew what they wanted and fought with gloves on, fists raised, to make it a reality.
So sue her for being a girly mass of contradictions.
“You had to give him my address,” she said faintly, not quite ready to capitulate to common sense.
“Gage extracted it from me under false pretenses,” Mel said, as if Thor-lust could excuse her guilt. “Still can’t believe that hot piece of ass is gay. I weep for my fellow Vagina Americans.”
“I really loved him, Mel.”
“When?”
That pulled her up short. She had fallen in love with a serious boy that day in the boxing ring, and two weeks ago, fell right back into the Beck Rivera groove. The when wasn’t a fixed point in time. Her feelings for this man existed on a continuum.
She had never stopped loving him. Not for one second.
Mel gave a short nod as if Darcy had spoken that aloud. “You said you were over him. That you’d moved on and this was just a fling, revenge, whatever, to see you through the holidays. But you never got over him. Not really. And now you want to punish him for breaking your heart all those years ago instead of just accepting that shit happens, people make decisions for good or bad—” Darcy opened her mouth to object but Mel countered with the hand. “And that now he’s a different person. You’re a different person. He wanted the best for you, to make you happy in the long term because he was nuts about you. Best intentions, so-so methods.”
“You think I overreacted?”
Mel broke off a piece of Darcy’s croissant and popped it into her mouth. “Is that what you call it when you pick a fight?” she asked around her chewing. “?’Cause that’s what you did, babe. All this time you didn’t want to know why he dumped you, but the minute it comes down to the wire, as soon as he pushes you to be brave, now you start channeling Countess Curiosity? You knew you wouldn’t like the answer, and it gave you the perfect out.”
Darcy hated that Mel was right. Damn her.
“I guess I panicked.”
“Yeah, you did. Loving this man is going to turn your life upside down and make you question everything. That’s a lot to take in if you’re not ready for it. I tell my students all the time that fear is often a good pointer to what we really want and need. If it’s outside your comfort zone, it’s going to be so much more rewarding when you pull it off. You have to feel it to heal it.”
Darcy knew that what Mel said made sense, but making sense never made it easier. Bringing her fears front and center was supposed to make the hurt of facing the truth worth the pain, all shit that sounded great on paper. She thought back to Beck’s words, how she needed to figure out where she was going instead of dwelling on where she had been.
Gotta stop running sometime, Darcy.
Was she ready to let down her guard, expose her soft underbelly, and give this man free reign over her heart?