I find him waiting for me outside in the middle of the sidewalk and I take his hand as we start walking down the busy street. “So, not to make you feel bad, but did you just lose your mind in there?”
“I think so. A little bit, yeah.”
“Was it because that lady called me your fiancée? It’s really not a big a deal, you know. She seemed a bit on another level if you ask me.”
He stops walking and our interlocked hands make me stop, too. I can tell he’s rattled by the interaction. “It’s not that...” He trails off. “These last few days have really been a jolt to my system. They’ve been amazing, so amazing, but they came out of nowhere and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”
I feel my inner defenses crouch at the ready. The manager calling me his fiancée clearly made Ryan question things even more between us. Things are moving too fast and too soon. He doesn’t want this much of me.
I swallow down my nerves and clear my throat, trying not to let my mind run wild. “I get it,” I say.
“You do?” His eyes dig deep into mine, looking for something, but I’m not sure what.
“I’m just as surprised about all this as you are,” I tell him. “And I know we’ve always struggled with finding a middle ground. With us, it’s either zero or a hundred. Hate or...” I let my words fall away as I have the distinct feeling that I’m only making matters worse. Here he’s trying to tell me we need to slow down and I almost dropped the L bomb.
He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, urging my eyes back to his. “I just feel like for this to work, we need to get everything out in the open.” Here it comes. He’s done with me. Again. “I should have said something sooner. I should have told you—”
“Stop! You don’t have to tell me anything,” I interject, cutting him off. “That lady was crazy, so don’t let what she said get to you. We’re fine. Last night was...perfect. Let’s not ruin it with thinking too much.”
Ryan looks at me, saying nothing but squeezing my hand tighter. “I don’t think us not talking is going to help.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “But just trust me on this, okay? Please?” We’re still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Horns and sirens blare in the street beside us as determined pedestrians pass us by. We barely notice.
“Okay,” he eventually agrees. I nod and try to walk away but he only pulls me back again. “And just so you know, last night was perfect for me, too.”
I didn’t know how much I needed him to say that until his words weave through and around me in a uniquely intricate pattern. I give his hand a tug and he wraps his arm around my waist as we finally continue walking home. And as I pull him the slightest bit closer, I try not to pay too much attention to the fact that I’m starting to think of the apartment as our home, and not just mine.
It is now 7:15 p.m. and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t losing it a bit. After a relaxing afternoon of dog walks and writing, Ryan left a half hour ago, saying he needed to get supplies to cook us dinner.
It’s dark out now and for some reason, our situation seems totally different out of the sheltered light of day. Days are for friends, nights are for friends who get freaky.
I have no idea how to act towards him when he gets home. Will things be different? Will he act differently?
I doubt he’s overthinking things. He probably does this all the time. Not sleep with college girlfriends whom he once deflowered, obviously, but he’s always had a better poker face than me. I’ll deal with the situation either way. If it was a mistake, so be it. If it happens again, yeehaw.
I take a deep breath and almost choke on it when I hear my apartment door unlock moments later. Before I know it, Ryan is in view and my eyes go large at the sight of him. He shuts the door with the back of his foot and I can barely see his face over the tower of “supplies” he’s carrying.
In his right hand is a beautiful bouquet of what seem to be wildflowers that are bunched together with a burlap sash. His left hand is holding three plastic bags filled with groceries. Then I notice what he’s wearing. I bust out laughing, taking in the novelty apron tied over his shorts and T-shirt, depicting the muscular body of a Roman gladiator, bare-chested and wearing only a canvas loincloth and a sword. Ryan remains where he is, standing across the room with a shy smile.
“Big plans tonight?” I ask.
“What would give you that idea?”
“You just have a lot going on over there.”
“Truth be told, I was planning on romancing a girl I used to know.”
My insides flip in the best way possible. “That sounds like fun.”
“It might be. She kicked me to the curb the last time we dated, though, so we’ll see what happens this time around.”
“Were you maybe a bit of an ass the last time you dated?”
“You know, I can’t really recall but I think I might have been.”
“And how about now?” I ask.
“I’m probably still an ass but hopefully
