She loves me?
No, she can't love me. She couldn't have stayed there with that guilty look on her face and acted like my bed was the last place in the world that she wanted to be and then tell me that she loved me. Maybe she loves to sleep with me, loves to have me love her, loves to have this amount of power over me, but she can't possibly love me. I wouldn't hurt like this if she loved me.
But then she snuggled closer to me in her sleep and everything was forgotten. Maybe she can love me. She stayed with me, didn't she? She didn't flee to Dawson at the first available opportunity. No, she stayed there--with me--and she told me that she loved me.
She's said it a lot over the past few weeks and each time it starts to sound a little bit more believable. Her stays have grown longer, the sex has grown sweeter and Dawson has grown more and more suspicious. He's even called me a few times, complaining about Joey's late nights and her lame excuses. I have to do all I can to keep myself from confessing everything, but the fear of losing my best friend keeps me pretty quiet these days.
I find it rather funny that I still refer to him as "my best friend". Where do I get the balls to call him my best friend when I'm sleeping with his fiancée behind his back? Sometimes it feels like I'm fighting a war with him over Joey--like we're stuck in the middle of some ridiculous love triangle--but he doesn't even know it. He trusts me too much to believe that I would be the one responsible for Joey's late nights and lame excuses.
I snap out of my thoughts at the sound of a knock at my door. I smile and go to answer it, already knowing who it is.
"Hey there," I smirk, moving in to hug her.
"Hi, Pace," she returns, standing up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. I usher her inside and close the door behind her.
"How have you been? Did you miss me?" she asks lightly, giving me a half-smile as she takes off her coat.
"You know I did, Lindley," I return, looking her over, noticing that her appearance hasn't changed much since the last time I saw her, which must have been over 6 months ago. God, that was when I first started things with Joey.
Why does everything always have to return to Joey?
"So, how's the pseudo-family?" I ask, sitting down with her on the couch.
"Jack is fine," she laughs. "He says hi."
"I'm sure that I don't need to mention how unhealthy it is that you're still living with him, do I? Your expectations of men are going to be far too high after living with a gay guy for so long."
"Trust me, I'm very familiar with the neurosis of straight men--I have no expectations. Besides," Jen shrugs, eyeing me curiously. "Since when were you an expert on healthy relationships?"
"Jen," I say tiredly, hating that as soon as I stop thinking about Joey, she has to be brought up. "The last thing that I need right now is a lecture on my relationships. Or my friendships, or my morals. Can't we just pretend like I never told you and that everything is fine and normal for once? Please? I've given myself enough lectures for the both of us."
"I don't want to lecture you, Pacey. I just...I don't know. I don't want to see you like this."
"Like what?"
"So sad," she says softly, reaching out a hand and placing it comfortingly on my arm. "You don't deserve this...and neither does Dawson."
I sidestep her comment--the last thing that I deserve right now is any form of sympathy and the last thing that I want to think about is Dawson. "So, have you talked to her?"
"Well, not about you or your guy's, you know, situation. I don't think she's trusts me enough to come to me with that kind of bombshell, but," she pauses, casting a worried glance in my direction.
"Let me guess, she talked to you about the wedding," I interrupt.
Jen nods slightly. "She asked me to be a bridesmaid."
"Of course," I force a laugh. "Because they're getting married. Dawson and Joey are finally getting married. And why wouldn't they? They're fucking soulmates, right? The picture perfect couple," I nearly shout. Jen follows as I storm into the kitchen, words of comfort coming from her, but I don't hear a word she's saying. "And I'll be there," I continue raving, my voice thick with emotion. "Yup, I'll be standing right next to Dawson at the alter as his Best Man, wishing with every part of me that I could be the one promising to love her for the rest of my life," I say. "And wishing that she'd do the same."
Jen wraps her arms around me, offering the only kind of comfort she can think of. I finally let myself go, letting out all of my pain and anger as I cry.
"It's gonna be okay," she whispers repeatedly, stroking my back as we rock back and forth.
"No, it's not," I choke out, clutching Jen tightly. "Not if I keep putting myself through this--I can't keep putting myself through this."