“Wine makes me sleepy,” she explains, her tone apologetic.
“No worries.” My hands flick the air, waving away her apology. “Your snoring made for nice ambience.”
Her mouth drops open and her eyebrows draw together. “I do not snore.”
“If you say so.”
She jabs a finger into my side, but I saw it coming and braced myself a second before, so it doesn’t hurt. “Kidding,” I tell her, my hands up in surrender. “You don’t snore.”
Tenley pulls her purse from the floor and threads her arm through the straps. “I better go,” she says slowly. “Big day tomorrow. Running lines with Calvin.” Each word is spoken with an open end, like she’s leaving space for me to object, to suggest a different ending to our evening.
I want to. I really, really want to.
But I don’t. That hurdle feels bigger than all the others, and I’m still working up the speed needed to clear it.
She opens the door and gets out. “Good night,” she says softly, and closes the door.
I wait until she gets inside before driving away and spend the short drive to my house berating myself for being the dumbest man on the planet.
* * *
I hearher before I see her.
The crunch of twigs, the displacement of pinecones and pine straw as she walks. My fingers are wrapped tight around the cold longneck bottle, and I know there’s no way she can see me out here. Not with the porch light off, and the tall trees filtering out most of the moonlight. I came out here after I dropped her off, needing the crisp night air to clear my head. I’ve been out here for a while, trying to sort through my thoughts.
I don’t want to frighten her, so when she’s at my porch stairs I greet her. “What happened to your big day tomorrow?”
She startles anyway. Grips the post, a hand flying to her chest.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She recovers, coming closer. “Why are you sitting out here in the dark?”
“I do my best thinking in the dark.”
She’s in front of me now. She changed her clothes. I think I prefer her in sweats.
Instead of sitting down in the second empty seat, she leans a shoulder against the wall. “What were you thinking about?”
“You,” I answer immediately. No point in lying. It’s too dark to see her features clearly, but I can still see her movements. Her arms cross in front of her chest, and I wish I could see her expression.
“I meant what I said earlier. You’re confusing.”
I don’t need to see her face to know she’s bothered by my behavior. Her tone is enough.
I pull at the neck of the sweatshirt I changed into before coming out here. “I don’t mean to be.”
She sighs. “I know. I’m sure this is hard for you.”
“It is,” I confirm. As true as that may be, there is one thing I know for certain, and that’s the fact that I have to move on. Stagnation is not the place for me.
I stand up, setting my drink on the small table, and step closer to her. Her arms uncross.
“Confusing you is not my goal.” I want to touch her, but I make myself wait.
“What is your goal?”
“For the future?” I had so many, and most of them have changed.
