Page 69 of The Wedding Fake
“You got your box.”
“It’s tea.”
“I didn’t know you like tea,” he replied mildly.
“I don’t. It was the first thing I found that had next day delivery,” I admitted. He was blinking at me, confusion written all over his face, and I continued talking, my voice dropping as I told him the whole truth. “I thought if you saw the box you’d bring it to me.”
“I took it,” Hudson said. “I wanted to bring it to you.”
“But you didn’t,” I said, the words like ash in my mouth. I knew he’d already made his decision, I just couldn’t accept it.
“It’s not that simple, Claire.”
I glanced down. The box remained clutched to my chest but I didn’t need to see the floor to know it was industrial gray carpet tiles, same as on my floor. “Well, I just wanted a chance to say I’m sorry, I guess.”
“I am, too.”
I knew I should say goodbye, walk away, and move on with my life, but my feet wouldn’t move. “If I walk away we’ll be done, and I don’t want to be done, Hudson.”
He didn’t tell me to go, but he didn’t move out of his doorway to invite me in, either. Instead, he sighed heavily, rubbing one cheek where his beard was growing in more than I’d seen it before. “You don’t trust me, Claire.”
“I never really told you much about Dan,” I said.
“I wouldn’t have expected you to,” he replied.
Ignoring him, I continued, “I got together with Dan in college and I was sure we’d do all the…things” I shifted the box in my hands and Hudson took it from me, slinging it easily under one arm. I lifted my fingers, enumerating as I spoke, “I thought we’d get married, buy a little starter house in Bridgeport, have kids, take vacations, buy minivans—the whole nine yards,” I finished with a wave, as if I were swiping the ideas away. “I was so naive. I pictured all the things like a mental Instagram feed—pretty little pictures, and they were, but that’s all they were.
“I never actually pictured what life would be like with Dan. I didn’t picture the day-to-day stuff. I thought I was in love with Dan, but I was in love with a picture.” I shook my head. “I don’t know how to explain. When we were together, Dan was my real life, but every minute felt pretend…” I trailed off.
“But so were we.”
I shook my head, wishing I had the words to get across everything I wanted to say, but now that I was in front of Hud it seemed impossible to think of the words to show him how much I cared. “That’s not true,” I said, the tremble in my voice belying my firm tone. “When I brought you home it was pretend, and I was nervous about getting caught, but I didn’t feel scared. It’s not scary when it’s pretend, Hudson. But when I saw Dan at the wedding—and then Grant fucking God-knows-who—and I remembered how easy men can lose interest, how quickly I can become boring?—”
“You’re never boring, Claire,” he interrupted.
“Of course I am, Hud,” I whispered, deflating, “You just aren’t seeing it yet.”
“Claire—” he interjected, but I put up a hand, stopping him.
“No, no, I don’t need you to reassure me, Hud, because after you left, I realized the terror was one side of a coin. But the other side was happiness, contentment, comfort. I had all that with you, and I’ve never felt like that before.”
“Claire,” he said quietly, the word pained.
“Hear me out,” I said quickly. “My family is loving but kind of demented. I like data and documentaries and nonfiction books. There’s nothing exciting about me. And I’m scared and I’m damaged and I have a hard time trusting. And I’m acknowledging all that so you know I know how big what I’m going to ask you to do is.”
For a long moment he said nothing, but I let the silence hang, having a hard time getting the words up out of my throat. “Which is?” Hudson asked finally.
I frowned, opening and closing my mouth a few times. “Forgive me? And be patient with me? You said—you said I didn’t feel the way you do, but Hudson, the only one I want is you. And feeling that way is so scary, but the scariest part is the idea I could lose you, and I already did that. I did that and I’ve been miserable and I bought tea I don’t want to drink so you’d find the package and come see me, and I tried to watch your videos but I can’t find them?—”
“I took them down.”
“Why?” I asked.
“For you,” he said simply. “I knew you didn’t like them, and I had some downtime at the wedding while the bridal party was taking all those pictures, so I deleted the account.”
“Oh,” I said, the little word popping out of my mouth. I inhaled deeply. “It’s probably for the best. It’d be harder to get over you if I were watching your thirst traps twenty-four hours a day.”
“You’ve said a lot today, Claire,” he said, and it was true. I felt like I’d bared my soul, and yet I still stood in the hall outside Hudson’s unit.