knows nothing’s going on between us. I just can’t speak to him yet. Damn, he just makes me so mad! I turn into a crazy person with him, and it’s all his stupid fault.” She snuck a peek at me while I patiently waited beside her, letting myself sink into the sofa cushion. “Okay, well, maybe some of it is my fault, too. I do go hot and cold on him, and this little display might not have been the first time I’ve resorted to immature defense tactics.”
Seeing her wallowing in a pool of pity inspired a small smirk to creep up on my lips. Or maybe it was just the childish pout that accompanied the pity party. “It sounds like he wants things to work out between you guys. What’s the problem?” It struck me that I wasn’t exactly sure why I was even asking her that question. For starters, Ruben did show up here acting like a complete wanker, and knowing what a player he was didn’t sit well with me, either. Whitney didn’t strike me as the type of girl to be okay with that. I didn’t have to know her well to recognize that she deserved better.
“Emma tells me I’m a serial dater.”
“Are you?”
“Sorta, I guess,” she admitted, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap. “Only because my last relationship was pretty serious and he burned me, and well…I have legitimate trust issues. I can’t help it. Believe me, I try. Guys ask me out and I go. With Ruben, I really wanted him to like me, though. It’s pathetic, honestly. He’s the only one since my ex that I’d actually considered giving a chance.”
“Even though you know how he is with women?”
She groaned and tossed her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, even then. It’s hard to explain, but me and Ruben…we just have this chemistry. Whenever I’m with him, we both disappear into our own little world, and for a second—just for a second—I really start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d be different with me. That maybe I’d be different to him, different from all the other girls he runs around with.”
I swallowed hard, not liking what I was about to say, but saying it anyway to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and to hopefully ease Whitney’s burden a bit. “Maybe you are different.”
“No,” she said, with all the conviction in the world. “What I said to him earlier? About being invisible the second another girl’s around? It’s true.” She lifted her head and stared straight ahead, eyes falling on the kitchen counter, level with Emma’s ice cream container. “I become so, so invisible .”
My breath faltered a bit as I glanced over at her face, seeing the hurt there.
“Has anyone ever made you feel that way?” she asked on a wistful sigh.
“Yeah,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. “All the time.”
I knew it wasn’t fair of me to think that about Kate. She couldn’t help that she didn’t love me. She’d been nothing but an amazing, compassionate, sincere friend, and one I missed more than I could possibly admit right now. She was genuine in every way that counted when it came to being my friend.
But that didn’t change the fact that I always felt like she was looking right through me whenever I was near her. As if I were glass. As if she couldn’t hear me screaming on the inside, couldn’t hear my longing for her to look at me the way she looked at Ryan. As if I wasn’t really there at all. In reality, I couldn’t fault her for making me feel that way. It was me allowing myself to feel that way. Even after she’d made it clear she never wanted me, even after she chose him , I made the decision to torture myself and stick around. I must’ve been a glutton for punishment.
Still, a thick bubble of resentment had risen, and it threatened to destroy the remaining shreds of our friendship. I could feel it simmering, could feel it slowly building, and I didn’t like it one bit.
So, I told Whitney the same thing I’d told Kate the last time I’d seen her, and the only thing
Seeing her wallowing in a pool of pity inspired a small smirk to creep up on my lips. Or maybe it was just the childish pout that accompanied the pity party. “It sounds like he wants things to work out between you guys. What’s the problem?” It struck me that I wasn’t exactly sure why I was even asking her that question. For starters, Ruben did show up here acting like a complete wanker, and knowing what a player he was didn’t sit well with me, either. Whitney didn’t strike me as the type of girl to be okay with that. I didn’t have to know her well to recognize that she deserved better.
“Emma tells me I’m a serial dater.”
“Are you?”
“Sorta, I guess,” she admitted, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap. “Only because my last relationship was pretty serious and he burned me, and well…I have legitimate trust issues. I can’t help it. Believe me, I try. Guys ask me out and I go. With Ruben, I really wanted him to like me, though. It’s pathetic, honestly. He’s the only one since my ex that I’d actually considered giving a chance.”
“Even though you know how he is with women?”
She groaned and tossed her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Yeah, even then. It’s hard to explain, but me and Ruben…we just have this chemistry. Whenever I’m with him, we both disappear into our own little world, and for a second—just for a second—I really start to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d be different with me. That maybe I’d be different to him, different from all the other girls he runs around with.”
I swallowed hard, not liking what I was about to say, but saying it anyway to give the guy the benefit of the doubt and to hopefully ease Whitney’s burden a bit. “Maybe you are different.”
“No,” she said, with all the conviction in the world. “What I said to him earlier? About being invisible the second another girl’s around? It’s true.” She lifted her head and stared straight ahead, eyes falling on the kitchen counter, level with Emma’s ice cream container. “I become so, so invisible .”
My breath faltered a bit as I glanced over at her face, seeing the hurt there.
“Has anyone ever made you feel that way?” she asked on a wistful sigh.
“Yeah,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. “All the time.”
I knew it wasn’t fair of me to think that about Kate. She couldn’t help that she didn’t love me. She’d been nothing but an amazing, compassionate, sincere friend, and one I missed more than I could possibly admit right now. She was genuine in every way that counted when it came to being my friend.
But that didn’t change the fact that I always felt like she was looking right through me whenever I was near her. As if I were glass. As if she couldn’t hear me screaming on the inside, couldn’t hear my longing for her to look at me the way she looked at Ryan. As if I wasn’t really there at all. In reality, I couldn’t fault her for making me feel that way. It was me allowing myself to feel that way. Even after she’d made it clear she never wanted me, even after she chose him , I made the decision to torture myself and stick around. I must’ve been a glutton for punishment.
Still, a thick bubble of resentment had risen, and it threatened to destroy the remaining shreds of our friendship. I could feel it simmering, could feel it slowly building, and I didn’t like it one bit.
So, I told Whitney the same thing I’d told Kate the last time I’d seen her, and the only thing
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