Keep Me If You Can (If You Can #3)

32. You’re Just A Bad Person

Chapter thirty-two

You’re Just A Bad Person

I t was cold.

Refreshingly cold.

Soberingly cold.

It probably wouldn’t have felt so cold if I hadn’t sliced my dress down to my sternum and trimmed it into a mini skirt that barely covered my ass cheeks. But even if I’d been clad in a parka and snowpants, I think I would have still been shivering uncontrollably.

The moment my heels hit the sidewalk outside the club, I started power walking down the block. Sydney followed, her longer legs keeping pace with me easily, though she hung back a few steps anyway. We wove through a few groups of people dressed in slightly less revealing clothing than I was, each body between me and that club cutting through the uneasy sensation Phillipe’s hands had left on my body.

Neither of us spoke for about three blocks, once we were away from the businesses and in front of a low-rise apartment building.

“Nellie—“ Syd started.

“Leave it to me, right?” I interrupted, the words coming out in a shaky laugh. “I don’t want to talk about JP, think about JP, admit anything about how I feel or don’t feel about JP, and then I pick the one guy in the bar who looks like a knockoff version of him.”

“Well, that—”

“—could mean nothing, I know,” I said. “Maybe I just have a type. Maybe that’s my thing now. A world full of sexy fucking people and I’m into tall snarky bastards who wear chinos and own monogrammed leather accessories.”

“Does JP—”

“—own a monogrammed wallet? Probably. The bastard wears bespoke fucking shoes. But you know, I was sitting there trying to figure out why I wasn’t attracted to him. I’m attracted to, like, everyone. So maybe it has nothing to do with JP.”

“That seems—”

“—like a stretch? Yeah.” I stopped walking, raising my hands to my head as I turned to her, doing everything I could not to beg for an answer. “What am I supposed to do , Syd?”

“Well, you—” She stopped, like she was waiting for me to say something, but continued when I didn’t. “You could try telling JP you’re in love with him.”

The words were so blunt, it was like being hit in the stomach by a… I don’t know. By a large blunt object. So blunt and so hard it bruised as it winded me. “I’m not.”

“You most def—”

“I am not !” I repeated, the words ringing off the side of the building beside us. “I don’t love him. I don’t .”

Sydney let out a heavy breath. “You know, I’m putting up with a lot of shit from you right now. Maybe you could stop and listen to me for five seconds?”

I opened my mouth, but the angry retort that I’d instinctively leaned towards faded as I looked at my best friend. Despite not doing what she’d wanted me to earlier that night, despite not letting her finish a fucking sentence because apparently I couldn’t control my mouth for longer than a heartbeat at a time, she was looking at me patiently, her mouth set in a straight line but her eyes round and full of… pity?

No, not pity. Not sympathy, either.

She was looking at me with leniency. Like she was giving me far, far more grace than I deserved.

“You’re right.” My voice caught on the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

Sydney laughed, the sound shocking both of us. “I don’t think you’ve ever apologized to me before.”

I snorted, then laughed, then brushed my hand across my face to catch the tears that leaked onto my cheeks. She wasn’t the first person to tell me I didn’t apologize very often. She probably wouldn’t be the last.

But fuck if it didn’t make me feel like garbage to know that’s what people thought about me.

Without a word, she hugged me, and kindly didn’t comment on the fact that I started crying on her.

“I’m sorry I’m a shitty friend,” I said into her chest.

“You aren’t a shitty friend, Nell,” she said. “You’re just a bad person overall.”

I choked.

Like, legitimately choked on the air I sucked in as I laughed, coughing as it caught in my throat and forced the rest of the tears out of my eyes because I couldn’t breathe. Leave it to Syd to know me well enough that she could tell that was what I needed.

“I’m sorry too,” Sydney said through her own giggles.

I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “Don’t. It’s fine. Let’s just… let’s not let this get between us? If that’s okay?”

“Never.” She dug into her pocket and handed me a Kleenex, then pressed a loud, smacking kiss against the side of my head. “So let’s get into it. Why don’t you want to be with JP?”

I sighed. “I don’t want a rela—”

“Nope,” she said. “Try again.”

“But I don’t—”

“The truth, Nell.” Sydney crossed her arms. “The actual, real truth.”

“Relationships aren’t for me,” I said. “I don’t know what else to—”

“The truth,” she repeated. “Because I’ve heard that bullshit a thousand times and I don’t believe it.”

“What’s so hard to believe?” I gestured in the general direction we’d just walked from. “Look at Olivier and Cody and their wives. Why the fuck would I want that? Why would I want to tie myself to one person and then sit in a bar having my whole life turned upside down because that one person fucked me over? Why would I want to give up going out and doing whatever I want whenever I want with whoever I want for the chance to waste twelve years with someone I despise to prove a point I don’t even want to prove?”

Sydney frowned. “That was oddly specific.”

“I… no it wasn’t,” I said, but I knew my face was turning red even as I looked away from her. “It was just an example.”

“An example of what happened to your parents,” she said.

I didn’t confirm or deny it. “It’s not unreasonable. Relationships ruin lives.”

“You can’t believe that about every relationship.” She gestured vaguely. “Look at my parents. They’re still together. JP’s parents are married. And look at Ben.”

“Ben,” I repeated. “My divorced psychology professor?”

“Ben’s the best example,” she said. “Did he or did he not just come back to Ottawa to help his ex-wife through surgery? They still have a great relationship, Nell. It didn’t ruin his life at all. Things aren’t ruined just because they end.”

She waited, but I didn’t know what to say.

“So one last time,” she said, her voice soft. “Why don’t you want to be with JP?”

“What if he turns out like my dad?”

She tilted her head to the side. “How do you figure?”

“My mom loved my dad at one point and now look at him.” I licked my lips, trying not to cry again. “JP is part of a life I don’t want. He grew up with those same dinner parties and galas and shit. The backroom deals and who-knows-who and… I don’t want that.”

“I thought JP didn’t want that either.”

“He could change his mind.”

“So could you.”

“I would never.”

Sydney tilted her head back, looking up at the dark sky like answers would fall from it. “Nell, JP gave up a fully funded life . He quit a cushy job with a massive firm that was going to be handed to him one day, all because he wanted something morally better than what he had. You’re sitting here thinking him turning into someone like your dad is a forgone conclusion when there’s no basis for it, Nell. He’s told you he doesn’t like your dad. He’s stood up to your dad.”

I brought my hand to my mouth, sticking my thumbnail between my teeth. “Even if that’s all true, why should I have to give up the life I love to be with him? Like, I want to go out. I want to hit on people. I like embracing that part of me, Syd. I like being a—”

I was going to say “slut,” but apparently, some of the embracing I’d done of the word had been shattered by my dad using it. Swallowing hard, I continued without looking at Sydney.

“I like the person I am. I don’t want to give that up.”

“Why would you?” she asked. “How many times did JP say he loves the idea of you getting fucked by someone else?”

I rolled my eyes. “He wouldn’t let me—”

“Ah, ah, ah. First of all, he doesn’t get to tell you what to do,” she said. “Second of all, the Martelles.”

“What about them?”

She looked at me incredulously. “Claire? Claire’s fiancée? Claire’s girlfriend? Claire’s girlfriend’s husband-boyfriend-partners-whatever? Don’t pretend like you don’t think something untraditional wouldn’t be an option. If you and JP talked about it and couldn’t find something that worked, then fine, but I don’t believe he wouldn’t be just as into other people as you would be.”

That was also a very good point, which was a bit worrisome. “You don’t know that, though.”

“Neither do you. It’s not like you and JP ever really talked about the whole marriage-babies-monogamy thing.”

“Yeah, because why would we? We were just fri—”

She let out a loud, unattractive fake buzzer noise that made me jump. “ Eeehhh. Nope.”

“Yes, we were,” I said.

“Right. The whole thing where you went on dates with each other, helped each other out, told each other your deepest darkest secrets… you know damn well you haven’t been ‘just friends’ for a while, Nell.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, sort of jokingly and sort of not. Sydney snickered. “None of this even matters.”

“Why not?”

I stared at the sidewalk, my shoulders slowly sagging as part of me seemed to deflate. “I blew it.”

“His dick? Yes, multiple times. I know. You’ve told me.”

“My chance.”

The words came out so small I almost wondered if I’d actually said them. I had, obviously, because Sydney shook her head.

“You honestly think he wouldn’t give you another one?” she asked. “He told you he was in love with you two weeks ago.”

“What am I supposed to say?” I said. “I’ve been saying I don’t want a relationship for… well, forever. And now I’m supposed to admit to him I was wrong?”

“You don’t have to be wrong to change your mind,” she replied. “You could just… you know… experience personal growth.”

“Ugh. That sounds terrible.”

“I know, but it’s what adults do. I think.”

I laughed thickly, trying not to cry. “This is stupid. I don’t like feelings.”

“But you do like JP,” she said.

“I… might.”

“Might?”

I sighed. “Might… definitely.”

“So go talk to him.”

“I don’t know if texting him out of the blue is the best—”

“No, Nellie. Go talk to him.” She looked at me pointedly. “Face to face.”

“He moved. I don’t—”

“Anne-Marie gave you his new address.”

“And I ate it ,” I said. “You were there.”

“Technically, you threw it out after chewing it, but you could just ask Anne-Marie for another—”

“Syd, I would give my dad a detailed breakdown of all the people I’ve hooked up with before I would bring Anne-Marie into this,” I said.

She burst out laughing. “She said you’d say that.”

“What?”

“Well, not exactly that, but pretty close.” Sydney put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a folded and slightly crumpled piece of paper. “She ran out of Post-Its after you ate his address.”

“She did not ,” I said, reaching forward to take the paper from her hand.

Sydney yanked it away before I could snatch it from her. “We agreed I would only give it to you if you promised me one thing.”

I stared at her as a shit-eating grin spread across her face.

“Never mind, then,” I muttered, then turned on a heel.

“Wha— wait !” she exclaimed. “Nell, wait!”

“I’m not playing this fucking game,” I said. “You two think you’re so goddamn smart and you know everything but—”

“It’s that you have to go see him now ,” she said. “You take this address, you plug it into Uber, and you go to talk to him now . No chickening out. No sleeping on it. No procrastinating until you can justify not following through. You go see him tonight.”

I still should have said no. I didn’t even know where JP was. Then again, if Anne-Marie was making me promise to see him, he was obviously still in Montreal. But still. I hadn’t been drinking heavily—chugging one drink at the bar didn’t count, and I’d only had one at dinner—but I was emotional. I’d already had one big, heavy, life-changing conversation that day.

So really… what was one more?

“Fine,” I said. “I promise. I’ll go see him now.”

Sydney did a strange sort of jig, her face lighting up with a smile as she unfolded the crumpled paper. “Oh thank God. I can’t believe I actually did it. This is one of the top accomplishments of my life, Nell. I’m gonna put this on my resume and—” She looked down at the paper and the smile disappeared from her face. “Uh… oh.”

“What?” I asked.

“Um… well… on the off-chance you actually do end up getting married one day, I’d like you to please remember when picking your maid of honour that I believed in you far more than Anne-Marie did,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Sydney bit her lip. “I think she thought it would take longer for you to figure this all out.”

Frowning, I reached for the paper again. This time, Sydney let me take it, and I looked down at the address.

Then I looked back up at her. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”