“There’s no need for expectations,” he continued. “We can’t make them get together. They aren’t us.”
“So are we together?” I asked, wanting to know exactly what we were to each other. Hope once again filled me. Maybe he really was into me after all.
“Of course we’re together—you’re my fiancée,” he said and I wanted to interrupt him. I wanted to say that that part was a lie and ask what the real truth was between us, but I was scared that he would say that there was nothing real between us. I was scared that he would say that this was it. And I didn’t want to hear that. I couldn’t hear that. It would break me. And right now I wanted to believe that it was more, even if that was just a farce. I didn’t want to know the truth. I didn’t want my bubble to burst already. Not now. Not yet. I wasn’t sure I could go through with all of my plans if I thought he didn’t have any real feelings for me. If I thought that I was just a booty-call to him.
Maybe I could make him fall in love with me. Maybe if I played this role perfectly, he would suddenly realize that he didn’t want this to be an act. My face felt cold as I realized how much of my heart I was putting on the line here. All of a sudden, I felt sick that I was letting myself in for a big fall and it scared the hell out of me.
“Okay, well, we’re pulling up to a music store that Sally wants to go into now,” I said as I looked out of the window at some trees. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Send me photos of the dresses you’re choosing between,” he said softly. “I want to help you choose.”
“You don’t care.” I laughed, my heart racing at the thought of him helping me choose a dress.
“I want to see them before you choose which one you’re going to buy,” he said softly.
“Okay,” I said, though I knew that I wasn’t going to be sending him any photos.
“When do you think you’ll arrive at the store?” he asked again. “I have a meeting in an hour, but it won’t last more than an hour.”
“Oh, I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “It’s some place that Sally knows, but I’ve never been there before.”
“Text me when you arrive,” he said.
“Um, okay,” I said. “I’d better go now. Sally is waiting on me to get out of the car.”
“Okay, text me,” he said and hung up the phone. I placed the phone back into my bag and looked at Sally who was glancing at me with a smile.
“What was that about, Ms. Liar?” Her eyes searched mine for a few seconds before facing the traffic again.
“Why are you calling me a liar?” I asked, my face pink as I stared in front of me.
“You’re not going to send him photos of any of the dresses. And we didn’t pull up to any boutique” She laughed. “He’s going to be sitting there waiting and he’s going to be very disappointed.”
“I don’t think he’ll be disappointed.” I laughed, but all of a sudden all I could think about was that—once again—what he wanted from me came down to something sexual.
“Sure, he will.” She pulled down a one-way street and gave me a quick glance. “Men are visual creatures. He most probably can’t wait to see.”
“Oh well, he’s in for a disappointment,” I said as she pulled up to a store. “I’ll text him and let him know we’ve arrived, but I won’t be sending any pics, that way he’s not waiting and wondering.”
“Oh, Mila.” Sally grinned at me.
“What??”
“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Text him.”
“I’m going to.” I grabbed my phone and started punching in my message, feeling angry and not really sure why. Well, that’s a lie; I knew why I was angry. I was angry that I cared so much. I was angry that the only real interest TJ seemed to show in me was in regards to sex. I was angry that I couldn’t control my feelings of worry and hope that intermingled with the love I felt for him in my heart. Even though we were closer now than we’d ever been in our lives, I felt the most distant from him. I didn’t feel like I was able to be myself with him because I was so scared of letting him in. I was scared that I’d fall in love with him and start to tell myself he was feeling the same way. I was scared that if I started to believe in my dreams and fairy tales, my whole world would come crashing down around me. I turned away from Sally and typed into my phone, suddenly letting my anxiety feed into anger.
Me: I don’t need your help picking a dress.
TJ: I didn’t say you needed my help, came the immediate reply.
Me:Good.
TJ: Send me photos.
Me:No.
TJ: Stop being childish.
Me: Stop acting like my dad.
TJ: Your dad wants to see you in your underwear?
Me: You’re disgusting.
TJ: That’s not what you said last night.
Me: Grow up.
TJ: I thought I was acting too adult.
Me: Goodbye, TJ.
TJ: Send me nudies then.
Me: You wish.
TJ: I do. :)
Me: TJ!
TJ: Mila!
Me: You’re insufferable.
TJ: You’re sexy.
Me: Whatever.
TJ: I can picture your lips right now.
Me: Whatever.
TJ: I can picture my cock in your lips right now.
Me: TJ!
TJ: Yeah, that’s what I’ll have you screaming.
I shook my head and tried not to smile. I wasn’t feeling angry anymore. Anxious still, yes—but angry, no. I wasn’t sure what it was about TJ, but he had a way of affecting my emotions without even being there. Just interacting with him made me happy. I suppose that was one of the side effects of love.
Oh how I loved and hated being in love with him. It made me feel like I was soaring through the world. Just picturing his face made me happy. And it scared me. It scared me that he had so much power over my emotions. I’d never really thought about it until recently. Until we’d become a fake couple. But now that I knew, it made me fearful. He was almost like a puppet master with my emotions.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. I wasn’t sure when the bottom was going to drop out and I was going to go flying through the vastness of an empty sky. I knew what it would feel like, though. It would feel like I was floating through the universe, by myself, empty, void of emotion and all air.
I knew the feeling because I felt it now sometimes. Late at night. When he was sleeping and gone from the conscious world. Then I would just stare at his face. I’d marvel at how handsome he was. I’d think about how I just wanted to touch his face softly, and how I wanted to run my hands through his hair. It wasn’t even in a sexual way. It was just that touching him, being with him, provided me with something so innate, so filling that it was all I craved.
But I didn’t touch him, because I didn’t have that right. Yes, we were sleeping together. Yes, he and I were closer than we’d ever been before, but it was all superficial and sexual. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t a loving, adoring relationship. It wasn’t what I craved and wanted with all my heart. I wasn’t able to just touch him when I wanted. I knew that. I knew that we weren’t there and that’s what kept me up at night. That’s what made me sometimes stop suddenly, my heart growing cold, my stomach feeling fearful, and my head feeling heavy. TJ wasn’t mine. He might never be mine and I didn’t know if I could live with that.