Brady telling me he didn’t want to get married was unsettling and it was all I could think about on Wednesday. I honestly wasn’t mad at him. I couldn’t bring myself to be. It just sucked.
Like I said, he was extra nice all day then in the afternoon he texted me letting me know that he was staying at work and getting drinks with his coworkers afterward. It was someone’s birthday. All I said was, “Cool.”
And he added, “You can come if you want.”
Obviously he only said that out of pity so I declined. I spent the evening watching tv, eating everything in sight and replying to comments. Brady said they would just go out for a few drinks, but I was in bed by the time he got home. I pretended to be sleeping while he quietly got undressed and then slid in the bed with me and Tucker. Brady wrapped his arms around my waist and spooned me, kissing my shoulder.
I let him get settled in for a few minutes then I rolled over so I was facing him.
“Hi,” Brady said. I could smell the beer and all the alcohol on his breath.
It was pitch black so he couldn’t see my smile. I put my arms around him and rubbed the side of his cold face and neck as a greeting.
“I love you,” he murmured.
I stopped rubbing. “Oh, you do?”
“That’s nice. But you don’t want to marry me.”
“I don’t know.”
“What does that mean?”
“Marriage is scary.”
“How is it scary?”
Silence. So I continued.
“If you find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with then it shouldn’t be scary at all.”
I guess this was the issue at hand – whether or not Brady wanted to spend his life with me. Totally acceptable if he didn’t want to or didn’t know, but I needed to know if I was wasting my time with him.
“What if I think I do now, but in a few years things change?” Brady asked in a soft voice.
“Why would that happen?” I probed.
“People change. Feelings change. Situations change.”
Something told me that Brady was speaking from personal experience. That thought didn’t even occur to me, but maybe that’s Brady being realistic and me living in some fantasy land.
“That’s a pretty pessimistic way to think,” I said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t understand what kind of future you want if you aren’t interested in marriage.”
“I really don’t know.”
“I don’t want you to leave,” Brady said. When he said that I thought he meant he didn’t want me to move out because that’s certainly what I’d been thinking. “I want you in my future.”
“I do too, but I want to get married one day. If you don’t think that will ever happen with us then I’m not sure if I should stay.”
Oh-fucking-kay. I sighed.
“I don’t want to do that right now. I want to enjoy each other without all the pressure of it. Is that selfish?” Brady said.
“I dunno. I guess not. But I don’t want to waste my time if you have no intentions of ever getting married. You know I want to get married, Brady,” I replied.
I kind of wanted to strangle him. Like give me some damn answers! I sighed again.
“I just need time,” he said. “But if you want to leave me, I get it.”
“Time for what?”
I felt Brady grab my shoulders, pulling me closer. “To give you what you want.”
Marriage? It was like he was afraid to say the word. But I figured it wasn’t an exact and direct no so I was going to take it. “Okay.”
Brady continued being nice the next day, making me breakfast and offering to get off work early to take me to dinner. I accepted. We went to a barbecue place that wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was delicious and that’s all that matters. We didn’t bring up our conversation from the night before and I hoped that he wasn’t too drunk to remember that it happened.
I talked to Kendra about it.
“It sounds like he has some growing up to do,” she told me. “It took John seven years to propose. I think it’s fair for him to ask for more time.”
“I can’t believe you never got impatient. Seven fucking years,” I said.
“There was no rush. We knew we were going to be together forever. Forever is a long time, Reese,” she lectured me.
I guess I get that, but I feel like before we get engaged, anything could happen. There’s no guarantee. Plus my ring finger is itching.
When Brady and I got home from dinner, we sat in the living room watching Netflix and working on our laptops. I was looking up destinations for my solo vacay. It started to get late and Brady shut his laptop and got up and yawned.
“Coming to bed, babe?” he asked.
“Yeah, hold on. Let me just bookmark this,” I said, not looking up.
I met him in the bedroom and asked, “Is the weather nice in Belize this time of year?”
“Nice. It’s a tropical climate so there is rarely unsatisfying weather. Why?”
“I’m planning a trip.”
Brady looked at me. “When? I probably can’t get any time off until March or April.”
Oh, awkward. I couldn’t even look at him so I shimmied past him to the bathroom. “I’m going alone.”
He didn’t mention it again.
I got in a fight with Stacey on Friday and I really don’t think I’ll speak to her again. In the morning, I was talking to Luke about some designs and how they hadn’t turned out exactly how we were envisioning. We had gotten a sample a few weeks ago and made some tweaks which Stacey was there for. She tried to input a ton of ideas that obviously we didn’t use because she knows nothing. So Luke and I were complaining about the final sample.
“I told you not to do that, Reese,” Stacey said matter-of-factly. “You should’ve listened to me.”
“You don’t know anything about design,” I said dismissing her.
She laughed like that was the funniest thing she’s ever heard. So annoying.
In the afternoon, I found her hanging out with Luke in the design room even though she has no business being in our suite. I kind of rolled my eyes at her when I saw her. She and Luke were talking about college and all the drugs they did.
“Yeah, this one time I was tripping on acid and I thought the ceiling was on fire,” Stacey was saying. “I was literally screaming and rolling on the floor like this.” She was sitting on the table next to my work bag and she dropped to the ground to demonstrate, knocking my bag and its contents down with her.
“What are you doing?!” I exclaimed.
Stacey laughed uncontrollably and rolled around on the floor with my belongings. She was literally rolling on my makeup bag and headphones and phone charger and stuff.
“Can you fucking get up? What’s your problem?” I continued ranting, while picking my things up.
Luke came over and helped Stacey up because she couldn’t stop laughing. I was seriously so pissed that I called Brady at work to tell him what happened.
“She’s lucky nothing is broken,” I sniffled.
“I understand. Maybe just try to stay away from her for a while. It sounds like you’ve been butting heads a lot lately,” Brady said.
“Because she sucks. I hate her. She’s the stupidest human being on the planet!” I continued.
Brady managed to calm me down by telling me that he’d bring macarons home.
The weekend was pretty uneventful. I woke up on Saturday and made a huge, ridiculous breakfast just because I could. Then we spent three hours cleaning the entire house top to bottom. I talked Brady into getting a new couch. It’s white. He was hesitant about getting white because of Tucker, but I assured him it would be fine as long as we do a good job maintaining it. Brady loves keeping clean so I’m sure we won’t have to worry about it.
We went to a dive bar on Saturday night. It was gross out, but we were going stir crazy inside. I ordered a beer and tots and Brady and I spent the night getting drunk and making friends with the bartender.
I haven’t decided on my vacation yet, but Brady is visiting his parents next weekend which is so dumb. There’s no special occasion, he’s just going for fun. What the hell? Since when is his parents’ house fun? He didn’t even invite me, which is fine because I don’t want to go. So maybe I’ll have a party. Anyone in?