Between Then and Now

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Bonita

M y heart is heavy as I get into a taxi to go back home. I left Ryan a note–a cowardly note–and then I bolted as if the inn were on fire. I understand if he hates me now. I’d hate me if I were him.

It’s not that I’m scared of something real–I’m scared that it’s so real it’s bound to end at some point. That it’s only a matter of time until the sparks fly away and disappear. That Ryan will stop seeing me with rose-colored glasses. That he’ll realize I’m not really worth it at all.

Ryan deserves better. He deserves someone who isn’t a walking tornado of confusion. Someone who can actually articulate their feelings without needing a handwritten note as a buffer. Speaking of the note, I feel terrible writing something so vague. I might as well have written “Dear Ryan, I’m a hot mess. Bye,” and it won’t make any difference.

And then there’s my documentary—my shot at career redemption—and I haven’t even finished it. I was supposed to film one last Q I never know what he’s up to these days. “Bon, let me tell you something,” he starts, his tone softer but still firm. “I’ve known you your whole life, and I know how you can get in your head. You say you’re fine, you’re happy, you’re great and all. You say you don’t overthink, but you do. On stuff that matters, you overthink. And that’s not a bad thing. It only means you care.” He pauses. “And whatever it is you’re thinking, just know that Ryan’s reaction isn’t just about him. It’s about how much you mean to him—and how much you’ve always meant to people who truly care about you.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check. “It’s hard for me to believe that sometimes. I’m not exactly the easiest person to love, Joshua.”

“Who told you that?” Joshua’s voice is filled with an edge of frustration. “You’re not perfect, sure. None of us are. You’re insufferable to me, but the guy finds you lovable for some insane reason. He knows you, he sees you, and he wants all of it. I personally don’t understand it; you know I don’t do these things.”

Ah, yes. My brother and his pact to singlehood. Our parents’ relationship over the years caused him to detest love and relationships. And I thought it didn’t have any effect on me, but apparently it made me doubt my own abilities too. Maybe I didn’t turn into a chronic casual dater like Josh, but they messed us up so bad I think I’m not worthy of real love.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I blink them away. “It’s just hard to believe sometimes. I don’t see myself that way. ”

“That’s the thing about self-doubt,” Joshua says gently. “It’s always louder than the truth.” His voice sounds strained, as if his mind trailed off.

I take a deep breath, feeling a mixture of relief and vulnerability. “So, what do you think I should do?”

“Talk to him,” Joshua says. “Be honest about your fears and let him reassure you. Let him talk to you so I won’t have to. Let the right person in.”

“Thanks,” I say. “Maybe take your own advice someday?” I try to lighten the situation.

“Leave me out of that.” He chuckles. “Mom has been pestering me with girls she’s going to introduce to me once I get home. It’s sick, really. I don’t know what makes her think I want to settle down after living my whole life with them as my parents?”

This is the most he’s ever said about our parents, and I somehow find myself smiling at his rare moment of honesty. “That’s just mom’s way of talking to you, you know,” I say. “She just wants to be the normal mom for once. And you know what? Just let her.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Bon. I’m letting her. Doesn’t mean I have to act on it,” he says. “Now, fix whatever it is you’re going through and please–tell your boyfriend to stop calling me.”

I hang up the phone, feeling a renewed sense of determination. Joshua’s tough love may sting, but maybe it’s what I need. Maybe it’s time to take the first step towards resolving the mess of emotions and decisions that have been weighing on me.

But first, I set my phone aside and turn back to the film editing, focusing on the task at hand. It’s time to finish this project at last. One catastrophe at a time, Bon.