“I don’t know your parents’ names. If you have siblings. Your hobbies. If you prefer cats or dogs,” I say, giving him an idea of what I’m talking about.
“Carol and Dale. Only child. No hobbies—my businesses are my life. When I’m not working, I watch basketball and golf. And I don’t like dogs or cats. I’d rather keep my place pet-hair free.”
Basketball and golf. Two of my least favorite sports because I find them boring. “You don’t like dogs?”
He shrugs and reaches for his water glass, taking a drink. “I’m not going to go out of my way to kick one, but I’m not rescuing one either.”
“I just got a puppy.”
“That’s cool. As long as he stays at your place, and you lint-roll before we get together, we’ll be fine.”
So, it’s not trauma or allergies. He just doesn’t like them. Serial killer vibes for sure.
“If we ever moved in together, how would that work with the dog?”
The server stops by and smiles. “Ready to order?”
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Ken says.
“I need a few more minutes,” I cut in.
His smile is tight. “We need a few minutes,” he tells her, then sighs when she leaves. “If we were talking about moving in together, we’d have to find a place for your dog.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t want dog hair on my stuff. But we’d find him a good home.”
Translation: I’d be expected to give up my dog for him.
“So,” Ken asks, “are you still looking for love on that dating app?”
His tone borders on condescending. I once thought he was a nice guy. Now? I’m pretty sure he just knows how to play the game to lure in women until they’re in too deep to get out or see the truth.
“I’m done with the app. Toward the end, I picked weird categories for fun. To see who would show up. One guy really believed himself to be a vampire—”
“I don’t really want to hear about dates with other men,” he interrupts.
My heart sinks. We’re at the point where he dictates what I can talk about. I’ve been here before, and I don’t like it.
“Oh. Okay.”
“I want to focus on us. Figure out how we move forward.”
It sounds almost… manipulative. “Move forward?”
“Past the fact you basically cheated on me.” I look at him in surprise, and he adds, “And past my insults that came when I saw you with that other guy. We should figure out how to keep me from getting to that point again.”
“It sounds like you’re not prepared to take accountability for how you reacted. You sound like you’re blaming me.”
He sighs, and I suddenly feel like I’m being a difficult child refusing to sit still in a fancy restaurant. “I’m not blaming you. But I wouldn’t have gotten to that point if you weren’t dating other people.”
The server returns. I’m about to say I’m not ready to order, but Ken just takes over.
“We’ll both have the roast duck with steamed vegetables and the house red.”
“I don’t want duck,” I say.
“You’ll love it. Trust me.”
