“Does this mean we have to go skinny-dipping together?”
I convinced Charlie to stop working and go for a swim. Now we’re floating, Charlie on his Pegasus-unicorn, me on the moose. I’m getting so good at boarding the thing that I can wear my straw hat and caftan without worrying about falling off or being ravaged by the sun.
Charlie doesn’t reply. His hands are joined behind his head, his legs spread on either side of the golden tail, feet dangling in the water. “Nah,” he says after a moment. He looks like a deity of sunlight and water. It’s an effort not to stare. “You can find someone else to kiss and get naked with.” Charlie tilts his head to me, and I feel a spark of disappointment that I immediately smother. “Harry, for example.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? He too good-looking and kind for you?”
“I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”
Charlie smirks at that. “Just fucking, then?”
“What? No!”
“You’re bright red, Alice.”
“Shut up.” I narrow my eyes at Charlie. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You mentioned your last relationship the other day. Was it a bad breakup?”
“Not really. I never imagined it going anywhere. It was fun for a while.” Charlie’s eyes are fastened to mine. “Yours was rough?”
I can do this. I can talk about Trevor without crying. “Brutal. You heard what Nan said. We were together for four years. We lived together. I didn’t see it coming.”
“Is that why you’re immune to Harrison’s charm—you’re not over your ex?”
“No, that’s not it.” And as I say it, I realize it’s true. If Trevor wanted a second chance, I wouldn’t give it a split second of consideration. “I’m not sure I can invest in another relationship.”
Charlie turns, propping himself on an elbow. “What happened?” His voice is so gentle. And because I haven’t been able to confide in anyone without bursting into tears, and because he’s easy to talk to, I do.
I tell Charlie all the ways we were compatible. We were homebodies. Serious about our work. Always reliable. We each ran our own businesses. We bonded over being both creativeandorganized. Two peas in a tidy pod.
“I grew up in a chaotic household,” I say to Charlie. “There was a lot of love, but it was loud and messy—like living in a monsoon. With Trevor, things were calm. Quiet.”
“Sounds dull,” Charlie says, eyeing me while he drags his hand back and forth in the water in lazy strokes.
“No.”
He raises his eyebrows like,Really?
“Maybe a little predictable,” I concede. “Our friends called us the perfect couple. And I loved it.”
What I don’t tell Charlie is how much being a flawless girlfriend required. I’d try on outfit after outfit before our dates,straightening my hair to a shine, making myself sleek and effortless looking. I started listening to classical music because Trevor loved it. I made gourmet meals in our gourmet condo, and we’d eat on our designer chairs, drinking red wine and discussing art and work and Steve Reich. I loved all the things he loved. At least, that’s what I thought until the end.
I don’t know how to make you happy, Alice. Do you?
“Why?” Charlie asks.
“Why what?”
I slant my head and find him studying me with a frown of concentration.
“You said you loved being called a perfect couple. Why?”
“Because it’s exactly who I wanted to be.”
