This doesn’t sit right with me.
“I'm notdatingSarah.”
“It's notmeyou have to convince.”
“I'm nottryingto convinceanybody. I mean it is what it is. And I called off… I mean she…” I start to say.
Now Gabby turns to look at me. Stopped at a red light, I glance over at her.
“I told her that I don't want to have sex with her anymore,” I admit.
One quick concise laugh escapes her. “What a lie,” she remarks.
“I'm still attracted to her of course but…” I trail off.
“Why? Why all of a sudden? Haven’t you been screwing her for like 2 years?” Gabby challenges, her eyes narrowing on me.
What am I supposed to say?
That I was dumb enough to believe there was a chance she and I could end up together again?
That I didn’t want Sarah to get in the way of that?
That the moment I saw Gabby at the restaurant, every bit of hope I lost came flooding back?
All of that would sound pathetic.
“She’s getting a bit clingy,” is all I manage.
“A bit clingy?” Gabby says like she doesn’t believe me.
I clear my throat.
“Hey… I was thinking,” I say, my voice sounding too casual to be natural. “There’s that little Waterfront Holiday Market downtown. The one that stays open on Christmas for tourists.”
She lifts her brows slightly, waiting, probably wondering why I changed the hell out of the subject.
“I thought maybe we could go,” I add. “Get some food. They’ve got those empanadas you like. And that bakery still makes those dumb reindeer cookies with the pretzel antlers.”
Her mouth twitches like she’s fighting a smile.
I exhale and push through the rest of it.
“And, uh… maybe after that, we could take some plates out to the jetty. Feed the seagulls.”
A beat.
“Give them a Christmas too.”
Her head turns toward me. I don’t look at her.
I can’t. But I feel the warmth of her smile anyway.
“You whiplashed thefuckout of that conversation,” she says, releasing that warm laugh of hers that makes me feel like I’m going to melt right into my seat.
My own laughter pours out. “I did.”
After we laugh for a while, I quiet.
