“That’s fucking awesome, dude! Congrats!”
I swallowed, wishing I was as enthused as he was. Looking at the letter was nauseating, and I still had yet to sign it. I had until January to do so and was under no rush, but with the final step right there, I couldn’t budge.
“Thanks.”
“You sound thrilled. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, staring out into the city. All around the lights dazzled, the promise of adventure behind each yet the place felt so dark and distant. “Something feels off.”
I had an offer on the house too, well over asking price thanks to a nasty bidding war between three couples. I accepted that, at least, setting up closing for just after Thanksgiving.
“Was it not what you were expecting?”
That was part of the issue. It was more than I ever expected, just like the house offer. I should have been jumping for joy, but I was numb.
“It was everything and then some,” I breathed, frustrated. I should have been grateful, but I wasn’t. I was lost and scared and ready to tuck tail and run from everything.
“What’s wrong then?” he asked, voice dipping in concern. “Is it too much pressure?”
“I’m so worried about it going wrong. Then I’ll be back where I started, just as angry and bitter as before. I’m so tired of the same loop. I’m so tired of fighting it.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re talking about work, bro,” he observed. “You’re still hung up on that chick, aren’t you?”
“It’s insane. She’s everywhere. I can’t close my eyes without seeing her face.”
The whole thing was nuts. I missed her. I missed her with every fiber of my being and then some. Even video calls weren’t helping.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Every day.”
“Have you talked to her about...” he trailed.
“No, no!” I dismissed, letting out a shaky breath. “I can’t.”
“You know my stance on that, man. That will be your biggest hurdle. Once you clear that, you’ll know where things stand.”
Bianca was more than a hurdle. She was a trench of toxicity, all but ruining my life. She wasn’t a topic to approach lightly and would scare off anyone in their right mind. Who wanted anything to do with a man that willingly danced with the devil, falling back into the same rhythm of self-destruction and chaos?
“I can’t,” I countered, shaking my head. There was no way Elena could find out about her. She was too pure to get wrapped up in that.
“You’re only protecting yourself, not her. If you want anything to work, be upfront about your past, present, and future.”
“Since when are you a therapist?” I joked, trying to get a hold of things. I was hoping he’d let me off easy, but no such luck.
“You know I’m right.”
“I’ve only known her since June...” I trailed, not wanting to add we’d only been sleeping together for a little over a month. It was nuts to my own ears. Who thought about a relationship that fast? God knows I didn’t. But was I really considering one? The same guy that shunned stores and restaurants around Valentine’s Day to avoid stepping in love?
It was all so fast. So consuming. So wild.
Elena blew in like a tiny tornado, uprooting routines and rigid structure, yet everything seemed to land as intended all along. I woke up and looked forward to each day, to each new adventure.
The moment I laid eyes on that organ transplant lunchbox, I was convinced she was a weirdo, and I was right, but she was my weirdo and my kind of crazy.
But she deserved to know. If I wanted to be with her — and I did — she had to know what lurked behind the suit and tie. Why I couldn’t let go of the reins.
“Feelings don’t follow the concept of time,” he said softly, and I felt each word for both of us, for each of our paths, as different as they were.
Elena
Sex droughts were never fun, but they sucked a lot more after growing accustomed to a waterfall of pleasure. I survived the two weeks unscathed and hadn’t taken my vibrating friend out for a spin. Frequent phone sex with a certain someone rendered it useless.
Besides our raunchy chats, we discussed work, but I left out the dust-up with Marty. I didn’t want a bloodbath to ensue once he was back in New York. Besides, Marty hadn’t said another word since.
Jason secured a seven-figure contract in DC, and an inventory buy-out, both tasks for Corporate, not Ithaca. I was ecstatic for him, but it stung, a reality check that there was an endgame to it all. I didn’t know how I’d fill his size thirteens, but I’d enjoy him while I could.
My non-wedding anniversary came and went, not a tear in sight.
I prearranged to take off the Monday after with Lee, playing hooky together since we knew damn well that Marty wouldn’t let us take off the same day. It was also the same day Jason was returning from out of town, though he was headed straight into the office for meetings.
When Lee burst in the door with pizza and beer, I was stoked–not mopey, light years ahead of where I was a year earlier. Pajamas were our version of business casual for the day, and we assumed the position of camping out on the sofa in full veg mode.
The pizza was phenomenal and the beer cold, though our comedy-special selection needed serious work. I never understood man-bashing humor, and the chick lost me after the third straight bit about how men sucked.
We suffered through the second half of the latest hour-long snooze fest without a single laugh when my phone pinged, earning a hiss from Hank sitting beside it on the arm of the couch.
“Sorry, bud,” I muttered, petting his side gently as he stayed loafed in place.
“It's probably Marty wanting to know how to turn his computer on...” Lee
