And I tucked that card in my wallet just the same.
"That was interesting," he murmured as she retreated. "You know, for a sales pitch."
I shrugged. "I think we're pretty adorable."
"Shut your mouth. Of course, we're adorable." He smiled as he swatted my chest. "That's why it looks like we're in mad, crazy love."
"In that case, maybe we should take a break from expecting to fuck this all up. I'd say we make a good team, Hayzer." I handed him another donut and grabbed one for myself. "What d'you say?"
"I reserve the right to worry irrationally at any time," he replied, his focus trained on the donut. "It's part of my charm."
Since my arm was still locked around Jory's waist, I had to station my donut on the lid of my coffee and pray I didn't create chaos with that maneuver. "Does that make my hella nasty breakup with a serial cheater last year part of my charm? Because it's one hundred percent of the reason why I tried to impress you with the best date in the history of dates last weekend and had a low-key panic attack over sweaters this morning."
"Don't forget the bit about the symphony," he added. "Because that was totally part of it too."
"Thanks for the reminder."
After an easy smile, Jory asked, "What's the story with this ex?"
I didn't want to rehash the epic tragedy of Teddy and me but I'd brought it up, and sooner or later, I was going to have to share this part of myself with Jory. It was much like divulging sexual health histories and exchanging notes on food allergies—boring, occasionally gross, but necessary if we wanted to be on the same wavelength. Or naked.
With a gusty sigh, I said, "On and off for two years. Then, lived together for three years. Cheated on me from the very beginning."
"Oh, shit."
Yeah. That was the usual response.
"Pretty much," I replied. "I moved out and ended things last winter. That's how I landed at my sister's house. I only have to babysit her kids about once a week when she and her husband have their date nights as payment. That and letting her spray me down with all her therapist juju. It could be worse."
Jory ignored all my quippy comments and drilled into the heart of the matter. "How are you doing?"
"I'm good," I admitted, and I meant it. "I'm still in my head a bit because anyone who is cheated on for years assumes they did something to cause it, they did something to attract someone who uses and abuses people. But I've had nearly a full year to be sad and angry, and then sad some more. I've gone through down phases and dark phases, and some ragey, bitter ones too. At some point, I stopped having feelings about the breakup and how everything went down with us, and all the garbage feelings started drifting away."
I passed my coffee to my other hand and knuckled some sugar from his upper lip because it was there but also because I wanted to touch him again. Wanted to laugh with him and hold him close, just like this, and keep my old dramas in the past.
"Are they completely gone? The garbage feelings?" he added.
"Well, I met this blindingly hot guy when he was on campus for new staff orientation—"
"Blindingly hot, huh?" Jory asked with a smirk.
"In fact, the only thing I could see was this guy with good hair and marine life on his ties. After that, I didn't think about the ex too often. I freaked out about dumb stuff like what to wear and whether I'd blown it the first time we got together, and those are total garbage feelings but they're different. It's different. I'm relearning how to take care of myself. My sister has other words for it but I think that's the main idea, you know?"
"I do know." Jory studied me for a long moment, long enough to make me wonder whether I'd said too much, shared too deep. Then, "Maybe it is part of your charm. It's okay if our charm gets a little banged up along the way, don't you think? Or a lot banged up. I just—I have to believe we're all good and worthy even when we don't have clear, concise stories where everything we went through makes sense, and our issues are predictable and our quirks are only minorly quirky, never distractingly quirky. Sometimes big, shitty things happen like a serial cheater and it makes us twitchy about new relationships. Other times, we have a slightly chaotic childhood and we're almost paralyzed with anxiety as adults. The hit doesn't have to be hard to leave a dent. And regardless of the size of that dent, I need to believe we're all okay. That it's our rusty, banged up charm calling out and asking for acceptance."
I wasn't in mad, crazy love with Jory.
Though I wasn't nearly as far away from it as I'd originally thought.
Part III Winter
5
Jory
There was a gravity tied to each school year, a forward motion with a speed dictated by the combination of my teaching assignment, the mix of students in my classes, my colleagues, and my reactions to all those things.
Certain years crawled by, each day passing more glacially than the previous. Others were there and done before I knew it. The problem was, I rarely knew which one I was in at the time. Teaching railroaded you like that. Exhausted you like that. It was a three-foot job that required thirty-thousand-foot planning, and it was nearly impossible to know how it was going until stepping far outside it.
This was only one of the reasons I looked forward to the winter holiday break each year. By that point, I was in desperate
