TSNplayed in the background, recounting details of a recent football game I’d missed.
I took a long pull from the bottle, sighing as the cool ale ran down my parched throat, then I obliged my best friend’s request. Learning that my absence as of late had everything to do with the handsome pathologist I’d been lusting after had piqued Elifet’s interest.
“I’m afraid to say too much and jinx it.”
“Oh, stop. That’s not a thing. Hang on.”
Elifet clicked off the television when it switched to a commercial, then aimed a different remote at his sound system and put on music instead, the volume low so we could chat. Elifet loved indie bands. The quirkier the better.
“Okay, go. You have my full attention. What’s he like when he’s not… autopsying?” Elifet made a face, still not comfortable with what my job entailed—which clearly transferred to Dominique’s profession as well.
“He’s amazing. He has a quiet aura. Tends to be reserved. He’s a good listener.”
“Your opposite.”
I chuckled. “I guess. We’re taking it slow. He lost his wife two and a half years ago, and this is his first time venturing back into the dating scene. He’s a little frayed around the edges.”
Elifet had been about to sip his beer, but he lowered the bottle again, eyes widening. “He lost his wife? As in, she died? I didn’t know he was married.”
“Neither did I. He has a daughter, too. What’s worse? His wife died the day she was born.”
“Oh shit. That’s horrible. What happened?”
“I don’t know. Complications during labor, maybe. Does that still happen in this day and age? If she was sick beforehand, the stress of childbirth could have been too much. I haven’t asked. It’s a touchy subject, and he’s reluctant to talk about it.”
“Christ. That’s intense.”
“I know. Hence my caution. Rue wasn’t sure it was wise to pursue anything, but…”
“But you’re you, and you’ve wanted to shag that guy since the day you laid eyes on him.”
“Nobody in North America says shag.”
Elifet shrugged, unaffected. “My mother says shag all the time.”
“That’s… concerning.”
Humor danced in Elifet’s eyes. He was properly dressed that evening in business attire, a requirement for his office job. It hadn’t stopped him from undoing half the buttons on his shirt, exposing his chest, and rolling the cuffs to his elbows. I was glad he’d kept his pants on. The man had a tendency to prance around in underwear.
He wore a gold chain with a crucifix around his neck—a gift from his grandmother—and often toyed with it when he was thinking, running the cross over his bottom lip like he was doing now.
“Could it have been cancer?” he asked. “I’ve heard about people being diagnosed in early pregnancy and refusing to abort their babies. They have to forgo treatment while they’re expecting. It’s risky, and if the cancer is aggressive…”
“That’s what I was thinking. Dom mentioned she was sick.”
“Damn. That’s rough.” Elifet kissed the golden cross and let it fall. It came to rest between his pecs. “So he’s raising the kid himself.” It wasn’t a question.
I shared about Cosette, about our dates to the Apothecary and the café near Dominique’s house. I told Elifet about the few nights I’d stayed at Dominique’s and the way I’d witnessed a change in his demeanor, less reservation and more commitment.
“His walls are finally crumbling. I wasn’t sure at first if he was ready to date, but this past week, he’s been way more relaxed. He smiles and laughs and talks about his past with greater ease. His sense of humor is kind of out there.” I laughed, remembering the earlier quip about his stiffy. “It goes with the job.”
I turned to my best friend, abandoning my beer on the coffee table. “Somehow, I haven’t frightened him off yet. My stupid mouth has gotten away from me a few times while in his presence, but he doesn’t flinch. Do you know how refreshing that is?”
Elifettsked, a shit-eating grin on his face as he slapped my knee. “Oh, Kobe. Kobe, Kobe, Kobe.”
“What?” I glowered, shoving his hand away.
“You realize you’ve fallen for the guy, right?”
