I sat and waited for him to join me. Once he placed a glass of iced water and a glass of sweet tea on the table for both of us, he sat. We joined hands across the table, and he said a quick prayer.
“Thanks for coming out to the studio today. It was cool to look into the crowd and see you out there.” He blew on a forkful of pasta and shrimp scampi before putting it into his mouth.
“You’re welcome. You had a really good turnout, and the information you gave was really good. I never thought about self-defense classes, but after getting a small taste, I can see how they would be helpful. I think knowing that there are techniques and strategies I could use to get out of certain situations might help ease my anxiety. I’ll probably sign up for the full ten-week class.”
“You should think about it.” He took another bite of food. “This is good as hell, E. You’re a really good cook.”
“Thanks.” I took a beat. “I’mma go back to sleeping in the guest room.”
He literally choked on his food. I jumped up to help him, just as he regained control of his windpipe. “What?”
“I’mma go back to sleeping in the guest room,” I repeated. “And I’mma start looking for a place.”
“Where is all this coming from? I thought you were good here.”
“I am good here. Trust me, it’s nothing you’ve done or that you’re doing. I just feel like . . . I feel like it’s best if I figure something else out.”
“Yeah, I heard that. My question is why.”
“Because, Quentin.”
“Because isn’t an answer.”
“I don’t feel comfortable telling you the answer.”
He sighed. “Come on, E, baby. I’m not trying to push you, but you gotta give me more than that. What’s up?”
“You’re a man, Q. You’re a good-looking man. I’m lying in the bed with you every night. You’re praying over me. Protecting me. Feelings are starting to develop.”
Realization washed over his features. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. And it’s so obvious that you’re in love with your wife.” I took a breath, thinking of the best way to phrase it so I didn’t sound whiny or resentful of his deceased wife. “You’re not . . . available to engage me the way I want to be engaged when I’m all pressed up against you in the bed. When my back is resting on your chest, and your arm is wrapped around me, it feels romantic. But it’s not. It’s intimate, but in a friendly way.
“And the more time I spend in bed pressed up against you, the more these feelings are going to develop, and neither of us needs that. I don’t need to get my heart broken. And you don’t need the drama of explaining my broken heart to Kobey.”
“I would never purposely break your heart, E.”
“I know you wouldn’t. You would never do it on purpose. But if I keep falling for you when you can’t love me back, my heart getting broken is gonna be inevitable.”
“I should’ve kept my big mouth closed,” I told myself the next morning as the light from the sunrise greeted me. I dozed off periodically throughout the night. No deep REM sleep, but no nightmares either. When I slept with Quentin, I usually slept straight through the night. But those days were over, so I needed to put them behind me.
For the first time in almost a month, I felt anxious. So, I did my morning routine. Deep breaths from my belly followed by the body scan. Next, I went into my gratitude statements. I ended it with my loving-kindness affirmations. The routine didn’t make me feel any more grounded or calm, but I figured it would take some days for me to get back into the swing of it.
Or you could just sleep with Quentin tonight, Inner-Eastley told me. But she was wrong. I couldn’t just sleep with Quentin. I couldn’t become dependent on him.
I climbed out of bed, grabbed the stuff I needed for my shower, and padded down the hall to the bathroom. After I was clean and dressed, I walked into the kitchen. Quentin leaned against the counter looking fresh and well-rested. He was probably glad to have his entire king-sized bed back to himself. He looked away from his phone, and our eyes met. He grinned at me.
“Good morning. You sleep all right?”
I forced a smile onto my face, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace. “Yeah,” I lied. “You?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. My bed was cold as hell.”
“Aww.” I gave him the sad face. “I know it’s gonna take some getting used to, but?—”
“Nah. I’m not gonna get used to it. But I understand your position, and I support it. I’m a big boy. I’ll get through it.”
I gave him a weak smile as I moved around the kitchen to prepare my breakfast and my lunch. I had a full day at the birthing center ahead of me.
