I feel lucky that I even have her—my sweet, warm Sophie, the woman who listens to my ramblings about work problems. Before I launch, she always asks what I need:"Do you want to just vent or would you like my advice?"
The woman who uprooted her life to move to my hometown with me, without complaint. The woman who called my mom to get her homemade chicken noodle soup recipe to cook for me when I'm sick, because I mentionedoncethat it helps me feel better. The woman who surprises me with little notes tucked in my work bag on her pretty floral stationery.
You're my favorite.
I can't wait to be your wife.
I love you, Paul!
"You're showing up," Elise breaks me from my thoughts, her tone soothing as she gently rubs my shoulder. It feels good. "You held her through the crisis earlier, and now you're here to refill so you can go back and hold her again."
She smiles at me, her bright blue eyes sparkling like a small lighthouse while I'm stuck in this storm. "And you don't have to talk about… all of that. We can talk about anything else."
Anything else.
So I talk about anything else, and we fall into easy conversation.
As time goes on, touches linger—her hand on my arm, my arm on the back of her chair. Her hair brushes my hand. My fingers twirl her hair. Eye contact lingers, her bright blue eyes are the wrong shade from what I'm used to, but still beautiful. I tellmyself that this is okay, that I'm not doing anything wrong, that I didn't technically lie to Sophie because I am out with a friend, just not the friend I said. We're just hanging out, having a couple of beers. I do this all the time with Brian and Chris, so what's the difference in doing it with Elise?
She goes to the bathroom, and I down the beer I'd been nursing for the past two hours.
Go home, go home, go home...
I don't. I walk to the back corner where the bathrooms are and wait. Elise looks surprised but pleased when she walks out the door and sees me standing there.
A grin curves at her lips as she walks into my space. "What are you doing, Paul?"
I kiss her. Hard. I grab her hips—higher and narrower than what I'm used to—and kiss her. Her tongue enters my mouth, and I welcome it with my own. We stay in the dark bar corner because people know me here. They know Sophie. They ask about Sophie—how's your little lady doing?No one has to know. Sophie doesn't have to find out. This is just for me.
For me, for me, for me...
Her hand snakes down to my jeans, and I'm hard already, "Is this what you need, Paul?" she purrs against my mouth, and I groan, sliding my tongue against hers.
We speak about a hotel we don't make it to.
???
August
"You… I'm sorry? Can you repeat that?"
"I..." My throat closes, and my mouth is cotton as I choke out. "I slept… I'vebeensleeping with Elise."
The gentle smile vanishes from Sophie's face. Her eyebrows pull together as she rapidly blinks her blue-green eyes—still theloveliest I've ever seen. She finally chokes out, "You've been sleeping with Elise?"
"Yes," I whisper, the only volume I'm capable of right now.
Sophie looks frozen for a long moment, before she whispers. "How long?"
Shame floods me as I admit, feeling like a fucking executioner, "Since your biopsy appointment."
Her eyes go wide and her mouth drops, like I just gut-punched her.Oh, God.She didn't look this devastated when the doctor saidcancer.
"Since my..." She starts breathing fast, too short, and too fast. I move without thinking toward her, to do something to help her,but she freezes me with a glacial look."Two months?"
I close my eyes. I should keep them open to witness the devastation, but I am a coward.
"Yes," I manage. That sting starts in my nose, crawling toward my eyes.Look at her, asshole. Look at what you did.I force my eyes open.
