Falling For Casual

Chapter 22

   With an empty apartment, apart from Texas and me, the silence in the air is thick with accusation. I bite my lip to give myself some more time to think of what to say, of what to even make of this entire scenario, but my brain has nothing in it except blame. Blame for my mother who outed me in so many ways. Blame for Delaney for not staying to help me steer this sinking ship into more favorable waters. Blame for my brother who didn't even give it a second thought before leaving with my mother. And blame at everyone else for running away and leaving me in this hot, steaming pile of shit.

   Ironic how even with the truth stacked up against me, I was still ready to be on the defense when I had no reason to. This was my mess. My doing. Yet I was already thinking of ways to get out of it. I hated how my mother's words kept ringing in my mind as I waited for Texas to say something.

   You're more like me than you want to admit.

   "You want to sit down?" I asked because I couldn't come up with anything else to say to him. He shook his head. I let my head fall and stared at my feet, switching my weight from one to the other until I couldn't take it anymore. Was he doing this to make me confess? Dragging on this insufferable quietness to rattle me?

   "You lied," he finally said. My head shot up then. He was right, but would I swallow my pride and admit that?

   "I didn't lie completely." Taking the fault was never my strong suit.

   "Angel," he stopped, with eyes shaking across my face and rubbed a hand over his own. "God, that's not even your real name."

   "I told you that already."

   "But you lied from the start. Was any of this shit even real?"

   I needed to close the distance between us. Not just the space that was physically between us now, but the gap that stretched even further by my mother's words.

   "Us?" I asked, taking a step in his direction. The hand he put up stopped me in my tracks. "Of course it was real. I loved you."

   "Loved?"

   I hadn't realized I'd used the past tense version of the word.

   "Love. I do still love you," I said.

   "I don't believe you."

   "How can you say that?" I asked him in disbelief, even though I knew why he felt the way he did.

   "Can you blame me?" It wasn't him I blamed. After the months of things I picked and kept note over, in the end, I knew he wasn't a bad guy. Not the worse one by far. It was the expectation of having my first boyfriend that really got in the way of what I wanted from Texas. Maybe if I'd been with men before him, I wouldn't have held him at such a high standard. Maybe I would've known what to ask for, what to anticipate, and what to recognize would never show up.

   All my friends had done was show me what I didn't want when the time came. I'd made up lists and points that were supposed to be my guide from listening to all their stories over the years. The men they sought out and the ones they caught in their grasps were never the same. The romance they longed for was always just short of something. It was as if the men they craved were everywhere but in their sights, and that was the complete opposite of what I needed. I needed the flowers I would never get. I longed for the compliments women rarely received from the men they called theirs. I wouldn't settle. That's what I always told myself going into the dating scene for the first time.

   Dating women was nothing like being with men. Their display of love wasn't similar to anything I'd ever experienced. And though my first love was abusive and Delaney and I hadn't worked out, I'd never forget the way I felt so loved with them once. How spoiled in every love language I'd felt when we were together.