“Elena, we were finally having a conversation.” David looked at me with disillusionment painted all over his features.
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said. “But I just got a parking ticket when I wasn’t even a minute late!”
I wanted him to understand my frustration. But he didn’t.
“Can’t you just tell your mom about it?”
“And what, make it go away?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t do that, and the fact that you believe I’d do such a thing is part of the problem.” I see now that it wasn’t exactly me talking, but the fact that I was equal parts tired and hungry. But, on the other hand, I was right.
“Is it too late?” he asked. “Are we too different now?”
Are we incapable of being together again, of loving each other again, of mending things?I added my own questions to David’s words in my mind. But I didn’t say them out loud.
“Can we perhaps leave this conversation until after we’ve been fed?” I seriously thought that was the best way of proceeding and not getting ourselves hurt permanently. “Will you have lunch with me?”
“Of course,” he said, graciously. But I could see the disappointment in his eyes.
…
Only after I had devoured half a falafel plate did I finally feel human enough to say something. We were seated at one of the picnic-like outdoor tables from Z falafel, and David was giving me the silent treatment.
“Okay, I’m able to talk now,” I said and again, I know, sometimes my lines are lacking. But I’m more of a polisher than a solid first draft writer. So I was giving him a poor first version of what I really wanted to say.
“Really?” David answered with a mocking tone. “And what are you willing to talk about? The murder? Your career? Even better... the weather?”
“Us, Scribe. Let’s talk aboutus,” I said. “I’m even happy to save you the hassle of having to ask the uncomfortable questions yourself, not that that’s ever been a deterrent for you.”
“What uncomfortable questions?” He was feigning disinterest but the sharp line of his jaw indicated that he was engaged.
“The ones you’re dying to ask about my relationship with Victor, which I’m only discussing with you because you and I have more of a relationship right now than him and me.” There, I said it.
“Meaning?” Of course he wasn’t happy with a simple insinuation. He wanted the full uncensored account.
“What me and Victor share is a relationship of convenience, and not much more than that.”
“Still not clear,” he said. The roguish grin tugging at his lips wasn’t helping me feel more at ease.
“Do Ireallyneed to spell it out for you?”
“Only if you feel like doing it,” he said. Of course, he was big on the journalistic principles of stating facts and being clear and precise. He was also extremely nosey.
“Only because it’syou, and I hope my honesty is appreciated,” I said. By then, I was hot and blushing.
“It is,” he said.
“What I meant is that it’s not like we’re still fucking or anything.”
“Really?” David said in a tone of half surprise, half pretended indifference, and all smugness.
“I’ve got that covered with you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye.Your turn, Scribe.
“Not just with me.” Was he deflecting? “Judging by your frequent use of toys.”
He was just playing.
