“Wait. We had a friendship long before we had sex, Jodie. Do you think you’d be calling off our friendship if all of the same things had happened? You were dating Jason when I got back into town, so there was a good chance he would have found out about us knowing each other no matter what.”
“No. He would have been a one-night thing, just like all the rest. He never would have known your connection to me…if we hadn’t gotten together. It’s given him ammunition.”
They were silent for a few long moments. Dan was struggling, trying to sort out what Jodie was saying, about who was to blame for what. It wasn’t easy, especially when his own emotions were so deeply involved. But he knew he’d do anything to keep her from calling it quits on their relationship.
She also had a point—a convoluted one, but still a point. He had put himself and his work first for many years. So had she. As friends, it was how they operated, and he’d never guessed that she felt slighted.
“So do you wish that?” Dan asked quietly. “Do you wish we’d never gotten together?”
Jodie looked stricken, and shook her head.
“No. I mean…no, I like us together. I just…I don’t know what to think. This shouldn’t be a choice between you or the bakery, but it comes down to that.”
“Maybe. Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just thought you had enough to worry about, but you’re right, I should have. I’m sorry for that.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“You never told me you wished I would have been better about contacting you when I was out of town. And I’m sorry about your birthdays. You just never seemed to attach much importance to those kinds of things. You were always out with your friends, partying, or with some guy. I have to admit, I didn’t think you even noticed what I was doing.”
Jodie looked surprised at his admission. “I didn’t because it’s not what friends do. Those are the kinds of expectations lovers have, not buddies. I have a lot of friends, and they come and go, and I don’t necessarily know where they are or expect them to remember everything,” she said. “But with you, it was different.”
Hope soared again, and he winced at how easily she could make it happen with just a few words. “Different how?”
The wary look entered her eyes again, but then faded to something else as she sagged down to sit on the sofa, her head in her hands.
“You and your stupid, freakin’ logic. I just admitted that I’ve thought of you as more than a friend for quite some time. How stupid am I? I never even saw it myself. Hell, I was dating Jason as a way to fantasize about you. I never have felt this way about any of my other friends. Only you.”
Dan couldn’t help but grin, even in the midst of their serious conversation. His heart lightened.
“I’ve only ever felt this way for you, as well, Jodie. Only for you,” he said, echoing her words. He joined her on the sofa.
She said nothing, just sat there with her hands over her eyes, her fingers forked into her bangs, quiet. He supposed while the realization of her feelings was a good thing for him, he wasn’t sure how she was going to handle it.
“Jodie, are you okay?” he asked, unsure if he should touch her but unable to stop himself from putting his hand on her back, rubbing softly, to comfort more than anything.
“This is so screwed up. I don’t know what to do,” she said miserably, but he took it as a good sign that she let him pull her in close, resting her head on his chest.
“Listen, I’m sorry I blew this out of control. I thought I could handle it myself, and I never imagined he would go to you directly.”
She looked up at him, her blue eyes blurry and tired from tears. He hated seeing her like this. If Dan had his way, he’d make sure she never had another miserable moment in her life, especially because of him.
“I’m sorry, too. I should have known it wasn’t that you were putting yourself before me, but I couldn’t help that gut reaction. I can’t see what choices we have. Either you compromise your ethics or I lose my bakery, or at least, I lose the signature product we offer.”
Dan kissed her forehead and sighed. “Well, some of this