"It would have been better if you hadn’t screwed around with a married man."
I throw my hands up in the air and say, "It was one kiss! Jesus, paint a scarlet letter on my shirt and put me in the stockades!"
Seth shakes his head and looks at me like he doesn't know who I am anymore. "How could I ever trust you after what you just told me."
I grab hold of his arms. "Seth, you can trust me exactly because I told you. I didn't want to lie to you about what was going on in my life."
Seth shakes my hands away and steps back from me. "Well, thanks for letting me know."
His posture and his voice tell me this conversation is over and so is our date.
Sixteen
My first twodays back in New York are spent in bed. Other than the delivery people who bring my take-out meals, I don't see or speak to anyone. Dad and Renata know that something went terribly wrong on my date with Seth—something bad enough for me to leave a day early—but I haven't had the energy to explain everything to them yet. I even put off Hugh, telling him I'll call in a few days when I'm feeling better.
On day three, I force myself to get out of bed, shower and make an appointment with my principal. I arrive at his office looking like hell and resign from my job. After that, I call Barb and let her know, too. She's sympathetic at first, but when she realizes I'm not leaving because I have a terminal illness or a job in another state, she gets a little snippy. I understand it won't be a picnic finding someone to replace me a few weeks before the opening day of school, but there is no way I can make myself walk back into the classroom when I feel certain it's not where I'm supposed to be anymore.
I should feel elated after quitting, but, thanks to Seth, my goddamn heart is broken, and I can't enjoy this new world of freedom and opportunity. This is what Isabelle was talking about when she predicted I was headed for a heartbreak that would rock my world. When I went to see her, I couldn't imagine that Seth would work his way far enough into my life to decimate me so completely.
After Seth and I got home from our ruined romantic evening, he walked me to the house without saying a word because apparently even when he's furious at someone, he's still a gentleman. The next morning, I got in my car and drove home, and it has been complete silence from him since then. Absolutely no contact. Leaving things on such a sour note has literally made me sick. I've had a headache, queasy stomach and little appetite for three days straight. I'm not contacting him, since there's nothing left for me to say. I'm not going to grovel when I haven't done anything wrong, at least nothing that directly affects him.
I want to settle things with Dan, too, but after resigning I need another day to hole up in my apartment before tackling that beast. Hugh refuses to be put off any longer and shows up at my door with a pint of chocolate ice cream.
"I know you're up there," he says into the speaker. "Time to come out of your cave."
He enters my apartment and appraises my dirty pajamas and the litter of take-out boxes surrounding me. His eyes darken. "What did this guy do to you?"
At the sight of him I begin crying, and we end up talking for three hours about my dad, Seth and the future of my career. He unloads about Raymond and the move to Chicago, which makes both of us so sad that we order and eat an entire pizza, as well as the ice cream, while watching my favorite movie,Amelie. That movie always makes me emotional, but I don't usually need an entire box of tissues to get through it. I tell myself it's cathartic crying. I'm letting go of all my feelings for Seth, purging them so they can't hurt me anymore.
I know it won't be that simple though. The feelings I have for him aren't going away any time soon. We were starting something that felt so right, and it crashed and burned just as quickly as it began. I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone else. Hell, I can't imagine dating, period. The relationship hiatus is back in session.
* * *
For my meeting with Dan,I choose a coffee shop near my place so there's no danger of running into one of his neighbors or friends. When he arrives, I'm already there waiting for him. We have that awkward moment where I don't want to get up to hug him, but shaking hands is too weirdly formal. In the end, I stay seated and give him a little wave. He orders a coffee at the counter then takes the seat across from me, and I note that he has showered and dressed in fresh clothing, which makes me nervous. I purposely didn't wash my hair or wear mascara, and here he is in a J-Crew outfit that his wife probably bought for him.
"How was your vacation?" he asks.
I can't bear to do the small talk thing so I launch right into my big news.
"I quit my job." I fully expect the stunned look that I receive. "Not because of you. I realized that I want to do something other than teach. I'm going to find a new career that's a better fit."
"You expect me to believe that?" he says, leaning across the table towards me.
His quirky choice of glasses and close-cropped salt and pepper hair totally did it for me at one time, but now I feel nothing when I look at him. At first I can't understand how my libido changed its mind in a few weeks time, and then I realize I'm comparing him to Seth. That's why I find him lacking now. There's nothing wrong with Dan—he hasn't changed, but I have. I went and fell in love with a broad-shouldered, pigheaded Southern boy who broke my heart.
"I don't care if you believe it or not, it's the truth," I say. "And it's best for you, too, so you should be thanking me. This way you can tell your wife I won't be anywhere in your orbit, and you guys can continue working things out."
Dan frowns and grips his coffee mug with two hands. "I don't think Nicky and I are going to make it as a couple."
My heart lurches. "I thought you were going to counseling?"
He takes a sip of his coffee before answering, and fear rises in me. I'm not only concerned for Dan and Nicky; I'm worried about me, too. I don't want the demise of their relationship on my conscience for the rest of my life.
"We are, once a week. It's not helping much though. Mostly Nicky talks about how angry she is at me for the whole hour, and I'm not allowed to respond. Then we get homework like, stare into each other's eyes for eight minutes every night." He uses a goofy voice when he's explaining the assignment to suggest he thinks it's bunk. "I'm pretty sure the whole time Nicky is looking into my eyes she's thinking I'm a total asshole who has wrecked our marriage."
"You should hang in there though, maybe try a new therapist," I say, thinking how this is the crackpot counselor who suggested I come to their therapy session.
"I miss you, Andie," Dan says fervently, looking at my hand on the table like he wants to grab it, but knows he shouldn't.
