A night with just the two of us, connected in the most intimate way we could be — that was exactly what I needed to get my mind off my stupid Theo fantasies.
Joel’s eyes were flat when they met mine. “Hi.”
I swallowed. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” he said on a sigh. “I’m going to take a shower.”
“Can we talk first?”
“Dammit, Aspen, I’m tired, okay? It’s been raining, I don’t feel good, and I had a long day on the boat. I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”
He seemed exhausted just from having said the words, the deep rumble of his voice etched with weariness.
Remorse was nowhere to be found.
I frowned, closing my book and setting it aside before I stood and rounded the bed to where he was. “Are you not even sorry about what happened last night?”
“About your overreaction to me having fun? No.”
“Joel…”
“I’m sorry,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose on a sigh. “Look, I really don’t feel well. I’m not myself right now.”
“Hungover?”
He glared. “No, like I actually feel sick, but thanks for that.” He shook his head, stripping his shirt overhead. “I’m getting in the shower. We can talk tomorrow.”
“I’d rather talk tonight.”
“Well, I’d rather not.”
With that, he slammed the bathroom door to seal his point.
I was fuming while he was in the shower, pacing back and forth, planning out everything I would say when he got out. Except that when he actually did, I saw it — really saw it — how long and worn his face was, how the puffiness and redness wasn’t from crying, how just the sight of him made me feel achy in my bones.
He really was sick, and as much as I wanted to talk, I wanted him to be okay even more.
“Do you need anything?” I asked.
“Just sleep. I’ll be okay.”
I nodded. “Alright. Mind if I keep my lamp on to read?”
“Do whatever you want.”
He crawled into bed with a cough and a wince, then he rolled onto one side, facing away from me as he turned out the light on his side of the bed. He didn’t say goodnight, didn’t give me a kiss, and within minutes, he was snoring.
I sighed, crawling back into bed next to him and leaning against the headboard.
I’d spent nearly the entire day in the room, save for the few times I snuck out to get food, and I was beginning to wonder if it had even been a day at all. It was one of those weird stretches of time that could have been a dream. I felt antsy, like I needed to get out, but my body protested, keeping me firmly in bed.
I picked up my book again, but I couldn’t focus. I read the same page three times before I conceded, shutting it altogether and deciding I should just get to bed early, too.
Just as I was turning out the lamp, my phone buzzed with a text…from Theo.
My heart lurched into my throat at the sight of his name on my phone.
I glanced at Joel, who was still sound asleep, and then unplugged my phone from the charger and settled into the sheets, sliding my thumb across the screen until the text opened.
How are you feeling? I didn’t see you all day.
Butterflies.
A stampede of furious, stir-crazy butterflies.
I bit my lip, heart thundering a little louder in my chest.
I’m okay. It was a weird day. How are you?
I would be better if I could have seen you on deck.
I pressed the phone into my chest, rolling my eyes up to the ceiling until they closed altogether. I stifled the little squeal threatening to break loose from my throat, and after a breath, I looked back at the screen just in time for another text to come through.
I hope I didn’t scare you last night.
I swallowed, replaying the scene for the one-hundredth time that day. Even in the darkness, I could picture his sterling eyes fixed on mine.
Not scared. Surprised, maybe.
Good surprise?
Joel stirred next to me, and I panicked, throwing the phone under the covers until he settled again. Guilt sank into my stomach, and when I lifted the phone again, I typed and erased, typed and erased until another text came through.
I have a terrible habit of making you uncomfortable, don’t I, Miss Dawn?
He sent the text with a smirky emoji, and I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t fight the smile blooming on my lips.
I have a terrible suspicion you like it.
Theo sent back a wink emoji, and then the little dots were bouncing again, letting me know he was typing.
Meet me tomorrow morning. I want to show you something.
I bit my lip, glancing at Joel with the pit growing deeper and darker in my stomach.
My phone vibrated again.
I won’t take no for an answer.
I swallowed, hating the way my body betrayed me, the way it came to life like those text messages were Dr. Frankenstein’s volts of electricity, and I was the monster he created.
Goodnight, Mr. Whitman.
Goodnight, Miss Dawn.
Joel was sick on our first date in college.
I had no idea, of course, because that was the way Joel was — if he was sick, life went on as normal. Looking back now, I should have noticed his persistent cough at the movie, and his watery eyes in the candlelight at the little pizza joint we went to, and how red his nose was when he first grabbed my hand as we walked back to my dorm room.
But the super cute guy who ran in the same circle of friends had asked me on a date. No way was I questioning any of it.
He didn’t tell me until almost a year into our relationship, which was the next time I saw him sick. And just like that first time, he insisted he was fine, that he could go to school and work and party
