His smile is broad. “You’re brilliant.” For a glorious second, I think he’s going to leap off the loveseat and kiss me, but he thinks better of it and slides his phone from his pocket. “I’m texting Drew now.”
“Yes, well. Glad I could be of service.” My own smile is weak. This is definitely the awkward part. We’ll start to leave, and it’s strange, walking out without his hand in mine, getting into separate cars to drive to separate places. And in this moment, like so many of the moments of the last few weeks, I realize with heartbreaking clarity the weight of all I lost when I chose to be flippant with his affection, when I chose to guard my heart and listen to my insecurities instead of cherishing the gift of his attention. No, not just attention. Love.
I fully expect him to stand and swipe his hands down the front of his jeans, then grab his coat from the hook. (Yes, I installed hooks. Who wants their coat to slouch on the back of a chair for the duration of winter?)
He surprises me by settling deeply into the loveseat. His long frame overwhelms the delicate piece of furniture, and it looks more like an oversized chair when he sits in it. His gaze is affixed to his phone, and he laughs, then scowls at what I presume to be Drew’s teasing. “Drew echoes my earlier sentiment about your brilliance.”
“I’m happy to help. Words are my thing, I guess.” And they are, mostly. Except when I ramble incoherently in Simon’s company.
“No doubt.”
I reach for my latte and drink what remains, more out of a desire to escape his gaze than actual thirst. God, it’s like he can see right through me, and though I’ve desperately missed our connection, it’s a lot to handle right now. He doesn’t relent, but his words are gentle.
“So, what’ve you been up to? We’ve been consumed with this project and I never asked about your holiday, or you know, just life in general. Or Jimmy? How’s he been?”
His fingers tap nervously on his thigh, and that’s the only action that betrays his emotion. I wonder if maybe he’s as anxious as I am? But that’s ridiculous. I’m the one who callously disregarded his feelings, and my own. I shake off that thought and answer.
“Jimmy’s great.” I smile and omit the fact that Jimmy snuggles up in one of Simon’s sweatshirts each night, instead of coming to bed with me. “And things are good.” The words sound bland to my own ears, and Simon deserves, at the very least, an honest answer. “Actually, things were incredibly shitty there for a bit.” He opens his mouth, as though to offer comfort, or maybe commiserate, but I continue. “But they’re getting better. I’m getting better. I, uh, actually started seeing someone.”
The effect of my poorly chosen words doesn’t register until I see the color drain from his face. “That’s...wow...ok, that’s...wow—”
“A therapist,” I blurt. “I started seeing a therapist.”
“Oh. Thank god.” He winces. “Wait, that came out wrong. I mean, it’s great, but…”
I smile at the absurdity of our exchange. “No, you’re fine. It’s fantastic, but still pretty new. I’ve only gone to a couple sessions. After, um, after things ended with us...and then Thanksgiving was a little messy and yeah. Well, after all that, I came to the conclusion that I get in the way of my own happiness, and, by extension, other people’s happiness, too.” It’s as close to an apology as I’ve been able to express. “And I know I let outside opinions affect the way I see myself. But, I also know that I’m the only one who can really change that. So… I started therapy. And, though I can’t undo the mistakes I made,” I summon my courage and look him directly in the eye. “I can stop this cycle and do better.”
He reaches for my hand, and I don’t shy away, though, it’s probably an awful idea. We tend to go from hand-holding to full-on fucking in a matter of minutes. Not that I’d be opposed to that, but…
“Elaine” His use of my full name still pinches a bit. “For what it’s worth, I’m really happy for you. You deserve this. You deserve every happiness life has to offer, and I’m seriously glad that you’ve found someone who can help you see your own worth.”
His sincerity damn near kills me. The words hover at the edge of my lips. I long to tell him that I get it now. I’ve seen the light. And I’d do anything for a second chance with him. But they stay there, those words. The courage I’ve summoned to shut my mother down this week, to ignore her texts and my own self doubt is nowhere to be found. And it’s not even that I’m afraid of my own heart breaking if he rejects my advances. No. I just can’t bear to see the heartbreak in his eyes reflecting back at me. So, I hold my tongue and wait for our conversation to resume and wind its way back to safer, more neutral topics.
But it doesn’t.
And it feels like time stands still.
His hands still cover mine, and we’ve inched closer toward each other. If I lean in and to the right, just a bit, our lips will touch. I can feel his breath warm against my cheek. There’s no denying that our chemistry is strong as always. But do we have the courage to indulge it?
But that question won’t be answered because the door creaks and we both turn, jolted out of our thoughts and away from each other like two half-naked teenagers caught in the act on the couch.
“Hey, guys, oh—shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” And for a split second, I’m afraid my verbal bravery will reappear, and I’ll say,You didn’t mean to interrupt? Then why the hell did you open the door, Dan?But, of course, good manners prevail, and I smile politely and say, “No problem. What’s up?”
“Yeah, what do you need, Dan?” There’s an edge of annoyance to Simon’s tone, but Dan is oblivious to it.
“Well, it’s after 8 on a Friday, guys…” He pauses, as though we’ll be shocked at his revelation and ability to read an analog clock. “And we’re the only ones left in the building. In fact, I thought I was the lone wolf, but then I went to set the alarm and saw the light on in here. So, I figured I’d check and see if you guys are going out for drinks? I think most of the crew is at Martinis, but a couple of the guys are over at Trick’s, so I’m heading that way. You want to join, Simon? Oh, Elaine, uh, you’re welcome, too.”
I smile graciously at his tacked-on invitation. “Oh, no thanks. It’s been a long week, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Yea, I’ll pass as well.”
My heart soars, which is ridiculous. But I’m hoping Dan will move along, and Simon and I can get right back to where we were. Is it too much to hope for another chance? I will prove—somehow—that I’m deserving of his trust.
My hopes are dashed as Simon continues. “It is really late.” With enviable efficiency, he grabs his bag, stows his stuff, and stands. “I’m going to head out. I’ll see you guys Monday. Dan, do you mind walking Elaine out?”
Wait, what? What if Elaine minds?!
But Dan, sweet, hapless Dan, beams at the glory of being asked to perform such a task. “Absolutely! No problem, boss!” It’s almost as though I’m a prized show dog, and Dan gets to see me safely back to my kennel.
