Loves Me Not

FORTY SEVEN

BEFORE
CATALAINA KITTRIDGE

I hate when something bad happens to you and people respond with, "Oh, you'll live." As if dying is the worst thing that can happen to you. Trust me, there are worst things in this world than death.

The end of March came, and before I knew it, April had arrived. I always liked April. Sure, it was rainy and gross, but you know what they say, April showers brings May flowers! I loved the summer time, craved the longer days and humid nights. I couldn't stand being cooped up indoors all winter; heating on, dry skin, no sunshine. What I needed was summer.

Unfortunately, we weren't quite there yet. Still had at least two more months until I could truly unwind and relax. The end of June would signify two things: being off work for the summer, and only one remaining month until the impending wedding.

I had been seeing Dominic for about a month at this point. He was a little taken back when I first reached out to him after that night. He assumed he'd never see me again. But then surprise! There I was, popping back into his life, uninvited and unwelcomed, ready to bring havoc and drama – apparently all that I'm good at.

I felt as though we were getting to know each other more and more every time we saw each other. He was a friend, of sorts. I enjoyed his company. I enjoyed having someone to talk to about anything. I found myself opening to Dominic about things that I didn't even open up to Scarlett about, didn't even open up to Ben about. I think in my mind, Dominic was a safety net. He didn't exist in the real world of Catalaina Kittridge. And therefore, our time together – along with everything I told him – ceased to exist as well. When I was with him, I was invisible. None of it was real. And therefore, nothing mattered. I opened my mouth and spilled my heart, and when I'd go home at the end of the night, it was as though none of it happened. That's how I thought of it at least. I can't say the same for Dominic. Who knows how he might have interpreted our nights together.

Here are the things I knew about Dominic: He tasted like rum and cigarettes. He hated his job working as an electrician. His mother died when he was eighteen. He had two sisters and one brother. He had a passion burning deep inside of him with nowhere to release it. I found him captivating. But I also saw him as something that needed to be fixed. However, I was broken too. I guess we both were.

And it wasn't about sex. It was never about sex. It was about connection.

Scarlett and I maintained weekly contact and went out together on the odd Friday night. But if I'm being completely honest with you, she had become a complete nuisance to me. All she did was talk and talk and talk. The woman never shut up. Everything was always about her. I had to condition myself to keep my eyes open and pretend to listen. My mind was always elsewhere.

The only reason I surrounded myself with her was simply to have a friend. I never had many friends, and I was especially lacking in the female friend department as of late. Ben always made comments about how I should go out and socialize more, meet new people. So as much as I loathed her presence, I needed her.

Things at home with Ben were no better. I felt as though I was living a false life with him. There I was, living in this lavish home with a man who adored me, yet for some reason, none of that mattered. At night time I would lie in bed next to him, plagued with this insomnia that wouldn't let my mind to rest. Was it wrong of me to have stayed with him? Did I make the wrong decision? I was so confused and didn't know what to do and I had absolutely nobody who could help me. If I left Ben, it would be the right decision. It was unfair of me to stay with him while having these conflicting thoughts, especially after all I had done, all I was still doing. Why was I with him if I was also with Dominic?

But I knew that if I left Ben, I would be even more miserable. I'd be out of a house, out of a fiancé. I'd have nothing. The life that we built together would be destroyed. And despite my conflicting feelings towards him, I still loved him.

The reason I stayed was because I needed him to balance out my life, the yin to my yang. The problem was, he was too good for me. I was a horrible person and he was incredible. I don't even know what he saw in me, why he begged me to stay.

Perhaps when it came down to the basic science of it, we simply didn't mix. Like fire and gasoline, we didn't work well together. We were too different, too opposite. Where he was kind and gentle, I was quick-witted and aggressive. He was patient and understanding, and I was erratic and rash. He was always so good to me, always so dedicated and willing to do whatever it took to make me happy. Only problem was, it was near impossible to truly make me happy.