Cuff Me

“No, I mean literally always. We’ve been seeing each other for two weeks now, and we haven’t gone out once other than crappy diner lunches.”

It stung. Just a little.

“Wine?” he asked, pushing the unexpected disappointment aside.

“Um, sure,” she said, sounding bored.

“So how was—”

“Are you ever going to take me out?” she interrupted. “I mean, I don’t need it all the time. I know it’s expensive, and not your thing, but Vin… I don’t want Chinese food and crappy pizza for the rest of my life.”

Just tell her. Tell her that you’re trying. That you spent an obscene amount of money on the best steaks you could afford, and somehow draw her attention to her flowers…

But it felt wrong now. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

He felt a little lost and a lot defensive.

“I thought you knew what you were getting into. Fancy restaurants and romantic gestures have never been part of the equation.”

“So what, we just put on our sweatpants and call it a night, every night?”

He started to lift his hand to the table, but he let it drop to his side. “You know what, Henley? If you wanted oysters and Dom and red roses, maybe you should have stuck with Tom and his arsenal of tuxedos and his yacht that’s always on fucking standby.”

He waited for her to deny it. Waited for her to tell Vin that it was him that she wanted.

Instead she looked miserable.

As miserable as he felt.

“What is it that we’re doing here, Vin? Are we just partners with benefits?”

He opened his mouth, but she wasn’t done.

“I know, you don’t like labels, you don’t think you’re a romantic guy, you’re skittish, I get that. I’ve been patient. I’m dealing with it. I don’t need promises of forever, but I just… I need more.”

Her voice was a little wobbly and he swallowed, his mouth dry.

He racked his brain for the right thing to say. Words had never been easy for him, but they’d never been this hard.

Nor this important.

And yet, he still didn’t know what to tell her.

He stayed silent, and in true Jill fashion she just kept talking. “I’ve been thinking that this relationship… that this relationship has been a long time coming. Fate, or whatever, but what we have is nothing more than you deciding you wanted something you couldn’t have but aren’t at all sure you want to keep it.”

He stepped closer. “That’s bullshit. This is more than that, and you know it.”

She looked away, and he cupped her jaw. “I’m not going to apologize for fighting for you, Jill.”

She put both hands on his shoulders, shoving him away, and his heart cracked just a little.

“I want more, Vin.”

He shook his head to indicate he didn’t understand.

She pressed her hands together. “Tom wasn’t the one that I wanted, but he was offering me what I wanted. Marriage. A future.”

Vin’s head tilted back, realizing he wasn’t going to like where this was going.

“And you,” she continued. “You are the one that I want, Vin. I think you’re maybe the one, but—”

“No buts,” he said, moving toward her again, caging her in. “Let that just be enough.”

She lifted her hands, set them against his chest, gently. Regretfully. “I don’t think it is enough.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Not for me. I want more. I want it all.”

They stared at each other miserably for several seconds, and she licked her lips nervously.

“Vin, can you tell me—do you just need time? Is it just taking things slow? Because I can do that. But you put up warning signs on almost a daily basis. Like there’s a bunch of yellow caution tape around your heart, and I just need to know if it will always be like that.”

“Jill—”

“I need to know if you think you could ever love me,” she said, her voice a little bit urgent now.

He’d never felt so miserable. He wanted to tell her yes. He wanted to say whatever would bring her smile back and take them back to where they were before.

But he wouldn’t lie to her. She’d been right before when she’d said that trust was the one thing they’d always been able to count on in each other.

So he told her the truth. Knowing it meant losing her.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what that feels like.”

I don’t know that I can take that kind of risk.

She nodded, not looking the least bit surprised, and that somehow made it worse.

He lifted a hand to her cheek. “Can’t we just stay as we are? That’s been pretty good, right?”

She slipped away from him. “I need a little time to think about things.”

He swallowed. “How much time?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I’ve gone from being engaged, to being single, to jumping into this, whatever this is, and it’s been great, it’s just…”

She rubbed her eyes. “I think I need a minute.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Do you want a glass of wine? I can put on music, or—”

“I think I’m going to head home.”

It hurt. He was prepared for it, but it still hurt.

He nodded slowly. “I’ll be around when you need me.”

“I know,” she said, not looking at him.

“Jill—”