Hugo looks at me, suddenly alarmed. “Are you OK?” he asks.
I side-eye him. “What do you mean by that?”
Hugo redirects his gaze to Murphy. “It’s just a question.”
“I’m fine,” I say. I grab his arm and shake it back and forth. I see him relax. “I’ve honestly been feeling pretty good lately.”
Hugo nods. Murphy has stopped walking, his ears pricked, and Hugo bends down to scratch his head.
“Hey, buddy,” he says. “Hey, monsieur. Murph and turf.”
Murphy looks up, somewhat wearily.
“Jake took him to the beach last weekend,” I say. “He threw a stick, and Murphy just stared at it. I could fully hear his judgment. Jake still thinks there’s a dog in there.”
Murphy nuzzles into Hugo as he continues to rub his head, chin, the fur under his ears.
“How dare anyone treat you like an animal?” Hugo says. “The indignity. Don’t they know you are a prince among men?”
Murphy steps out of Hugo’s grasp, requiring some space, and Hugo straightens.
He’s wearing olive-colored shorts and a gray T-shirt. His sunglasses are looped over the collar of his shirt, revealing a few chest hairs.
“So you’re really going to do this?” he says.
I roll back my shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“You’re really going to get married.”
It’s not a question, and it doesn’t feel like one. He looks straight at me when he says it. We are not alone at the reservoir, but for sunset, it’s not particularly crowded. A few runners jog by; a father pushes a stroller. But in this moment it feels like we’re the only two people here.
“Why?” I ask. But it’s not a question, either, not really.
“I guess I’m wondering if you’re happy.”
I blink at his question.What?“That’s ridiculous,” I say. “You’re the one whotoldme to be happy.”
Hugo nods. “I know I did. Yeah, I told you to embrace it.” He clears his throat. He squints into the sun. “Was I right?”
“That I should be happy? I don’t know, Hugo, feels like a good bet.”
I cross my arms. Hugo drops his gaze down to mine.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said, about the day we broke up,” Hugo says. “You were right. I couldn’t handle it.”
Despite the summer heat, I feel a cold chill go up my spine. “It doesn’t matter. Hugo, this is ancient history.” I start to walk again, tugging Murphy on. “It was so many years ago.”
“Yes,” Hugo says. “It does. I couldn’t handle it back then. What you told me scared the shit out of me.”
I stop abruptly. “OK, fine. You didn’t like that I was sick. It doesn’t matter—we’re not together. Why are we even talking about this? You said yourself you weren’t giving me any excuses.”
“You’re right,” Hugo says. “I’m not here to give you excuses. But the truth is something different.”
“Oh yeah?” I say. “And what’s that?”
“You think I stopped giving a shit because we stopped sleeping together.” Hugo stares at me. “The truth is I had to teach myself how to handle it because I didn’t want to lose you.”
Murphy starts tugging on the leash. He spots a bunny—his kryptonite. The only thing that will cause Murphy to behave with any semblance of animation. I hold firm to his leash.
