At first, he doesn’t say anything, like he’s trying to process all the things he didn’t expect me to say. And I go quiet.
All out of words. All out of tears.
He shifts, angling his body toward me, and for seconds that feel like hours, he just looks at me. But more than that... he sees me.And while maybe it should be uncomfortable or unnerving, it’s not. It’s quiet. And raw. And honest.
And safe.
He reaches over and swipes his thumb across my cheek, letting his hand rest on the back of my neck, seemingly unbothered by my show of emotion.
“You’ve never been with a man who deserved you, have you, Claire?” he says quietly.
I close my eyes and another tear escapes.
Miles wipes it away, and when I open my eyes, he says, “I’m starting to wonder if there’s anyone out there who does.”
I’m hyper-focused on the way his hand is cradling my cheek, the way his thumb moves lightly along my face, the way he’s looking at me—not like a friend.
Then, at the perfect time, he breaks the sadness. “I mean, you play pickleball like a newborn giraffe, but hey, we can’t all be winners.”
I laugh through the tears.
He smiles and pulls his hand back. “Can I see your phone real quick?”
I frown, knowing what he’s going to do—but I unlock it and hand it over.
He taps a few buttons, then spins the phone around and shows me.
He’s pulled up the text thread to John, and he’s added the photo that I lingered on before.
The one where I look happy.
Miles then holds up a finger—wait one second—and types out a message.
He spins the phone around to me again.
Haven’t had time to brainstorm. Probably won’t get to it. Sorry!
He moves it ever so slightly toward me, shaking it a little.
I hesitate, then reach over and tap the button to send it.
I cover my mouth to try to hide a smile, because even though it shouldn’t, sometimes being just a little bit petty feels really, really good.
I have never, ever had feelings for someone who was “off-limits” to me. Unless you count Jimmy Ballard in the ninth grade. He was off-limits because he was dating Noelle Fisher, the prettiest girl in school, but in typical male fashion, that didn’t stop him from flirting with me. Maybe it was that crush on Jimmy that taught me that off-limits boys are off-limits for a reason.
This is my written reminder to myself that Miles is off-limits.
Miles is off-limits! You hear that, Claire?!
I am not a hormonal teenager. (I am a hormonal, perimenopausal adult woman, which I’m starting to think might have some similarities, but seriously, I know better.)
But tonight, when he said those words—“You’ve never been with a man who deserved you”—it set off this chain reaction inside me. The kind of emotional domino effect there’s no coming back from. The kind that feels like a hangover the next morning.
And I don’t want to get all caught up in something that can never happen.
I don’t want to get caught up at all. If I’m honest, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet. I’m just looking for someone stable.
Actually, maybe that’s not true. John was stable. Until he wasn’t. Maybe what I really want is someone who is so in love with me, the thought of cheating would never cross his mind.
