Self-conscious about my now messed-up slicked-back ponytail and smeared makeup, I don’t want him to see me like this for the next twelve hours.
“I need to shower first.”
“Can I join you?”
“Absolutely.”
We race to the bathroom, a competition in who can strip faster. When we emerge an hour later, my hair is in its naturally coily state and I’m refreshed.
“I was thinking we could bake together and maybe cuddle and watch movies,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yes.” He wraps his arms around me and squeezes.
Together we walk to my room, and I give him some of my sweats.
When we find ourselves in the kitchen throwing together our favorite brownies, it feels like things are finally back to normal. Too bad that when they are in the oven, he ruins the peaceful place we have found.
“So did you sleep with him?”
I throw my hands up in the air, spinning around, looking for some sort of escape from this conversation.
“I just want to know.” He makes no effort to look at me, his eyes staring at the ground. His fingers flex and his jaw twitches as he waits for me to answer.
“Not that it matters, but yes, I did.”
“Why?”
“Do Ineed a reason?”
He rubs his hands up and down his face, and I want to do the same. I don’t know who this conversation is more frustrating for. When he slams his hand down on the counter, I have to say it’s him.
“I thought we were trying this out.” He finally looks at me, his eyes hard and pointed.
“We are, but in the meantime, I’m open to seeing other people.”
“So you’re seeing him?”
I look to see if the brownies are almost done, needing something to bring the conversation to an end. At least the chocolate would have made it easier to sit through this.
Technically, no, I’m not seeing Callahan, but how do I explain that being around him makes that decision hard? If I had to choose, I would pick Charlie hands down. But I’m not in the place to be with him and him alone.
“Not actively, but we hang out in the same group, so I will see him.”
He throws his head back and takes a big breath. The way he is biting his lips, I know he is trying to hold something in. Shaking his head, he paces back and forth for what feels like forever.
“Charlie?’
Holding up his left hand, he pinches the bridge of his nose with his right. Then he sighs. His shoulders sag, and the tension in his face eases.
“Okay,” he says, before looking at the ground.
“I thought I made it clear that I don’t owe you anything.”
“After everything we have been through, we both owe each other a lot.” His words are more bark than bite, but I still feel the impact of them.
“Maybe grace and understanding, but definitely not fidelity.”
