“That’s one day in your life,” he argued. “You can’t really think that one day ruined you.”
“No, but?—”
“No buts. Sorry to say this, but get over it.”
I was surprised by the lack of empathy in his voice. “Excuse me?”
“Boo-hoo,” he shrugged. “You’re acting like you murdered someone. It was a stupid mistake you made as a kid.”
“I know that, and I’m not relating what I did to a murder by any means. All I’m saying is that since that day, I’ve never been able to redeem myself in my parents’ eyes.”
“You’re using it as a crutch. As long as you can lean on what you perceive as the worst thing in your life, you don’t have to take responsibility for how it’s turning out.”
Wow. Okay, I was not expecting such harsh criticism. “Um?—”
“No, I’m not listening to any excuses. You made a mistake. Yes, the town looked at you differently, but then you move past it and change. Have you done anything like that since?”
“No…”
“Then they all see that you’re not a thief. It was a childish mistake.”
“Yeah, but?—”
“But what?” he asked, his eyes boring into mine.
I ducked my head, feeling a little silly about the whole thing now. “I’ve done nothing with my life. I never got away. I worked on the ranch until it was converted to a vacation destination. Doesn’t that make me pathetic?”
“Only if you let yourself feel that way. Krista, there are plenty of people who don’t have amazing jobs, who don’t love what they do. There are people who make so much money, they don’t know what to do with it, and they’re absolutely miserable. But that’s just a job. That’s not life.”
“Easy for you to say. You have an amazing job!”
“Because I worked for it. Because I decided what I wanted, and I went out to find it. But you know what I don’t have?”
I shook my head slowly.
“I don’t have a family of my own. I have no kids. I have nothing to show for my life except my work.”
I grinned slightly at him. “I mean, technically, we’re married. So you do have a wife.”
But instead of smiling at me, his mood intensified. “Technicalities aren’t what I’m looking for in life. I want more than that. I want it all, and I won’t settle for anything less.”
His words were sincere. I could see it in his eyes, in every fiber of his body. He wanted everything he was saying.
“Then why did you sneak out the morning after?”
“Because it was another mistake.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. He was so blunt about it, as if I wasn’t standing here with feelings and everything.
“I lie to myself a lot. I tell myself that I don’t want more, that I like taking a beautiful woman home and spending the night with her, only to slip out in the early morning hours. I’ve conquered something,” he laughed humorlessly. “A one-night stand isn’t going to get me what I want. Yeah, sex is great, but I want to get to know someone. I want what my friends have. I’m tired of pretending. And I want someone who can be just as honest about what she wants.”
Looking into his eyes, I tried to find the appropriate words, but his earlier phrase was still stuck in my head.It was a mistake.Did that mean I was a mistake? Did that mean he would never want me because we didn’t get to know each other first?
Why did men think we could read their minds? If it was me he wanted, he needed to come out and say it. These descriptions of what he wanted didn’t necessarily mean me. Was he trying to let me down gently by telling me that we could have had more, but we screwed it up when we slept together first? Or was he saying that was what he wanted and I needed to let him know?
And if I said I wanted the same thing, would he laugh and tell me he didn’t mean me? Or would he pull me into his arms and kiss me?
Men were so frustrating, and I was tired of trying to read their signals. If I wanted him, I needed to say it. Maybe he would like it if I was forward and told him what I wanted.