Page 105 of 13 Rules For Fantastic Phone Sex

HENRY

“ALL I WANT IS YOU” — U2

I’ve been breathing the same air, at the same time, in the same place as Kait for months. It was once my fondest wish, but in my dreams, she was curled in my arms. My wish was granted the first time she giggled at the name on my coffee order.

Sad Eyes. Tiny Giggles. Eóghann.

Kait.

I’ve been going through life like a poltergeist haunting my own footsteps and quiet moments, but she made me feel like someone would notice if I quit showing up. It was Kait whose giggles reminded me there was still a tiny bit of human connection left in my life that wasn’t family or a work obligation.

I threw what we had away, and here she is, again, helping me heal.

Watching her sad eyes turn into smiles made it easier for me to get up every morning. I’ve been mourning her while she’s brightening my darkest days. Have I been watching her recover from wounds I inflicted? Nausea hits hard and fast at the thought, and I clap my hand over my mouth.

Please, god. I send a tiny prayer upward. Please?

I catch up to her as she strides to the front door.

“Is it really you? Kait?” My voice breaks on her name.

She’s looking away from me, with her arms wrapped around her body. She doesn’t smile, she doesn’t frown, but she gives me a little nod.

“Have you always known?” Did she let Julian make an ass out of me for months for her amusement?

She tries to fight it, but her lips twitch, and a hint of a smile appears before she says, “Not until you said I was too cheap to buy one of my paintings for you.”

She’s regal in the dress and heels, with her hair tumbling down her back. She skips the pleasantries. “Let’s make this quick.”

I’m thinking of auburn-haired babies with highlights that shine like pennies in the sun and have my eyes and her perfect, full lips, and she wants to hurry up and finish this thing we had.

“We were circling ever so slightly closer every day,” she says, pained. “Duncan has told me twice this evening he wants to introduce me to his friend.”

She looks at me, her eyes kind but her smile hard.

She says, “Kaitlin. My name is Kaitlin.” And I understand she wants to get this over with.

Too many emotions are happening at once to parse them out, but the loudest one is gratitude. The most important question I have ever had—“Kait, will I ever hear your voice again?”—has been answered. Now I know her first name too.

“I am thankful for this opportunity to speak with you.” I sound like a robot, working hard to get every word out.

She bursts into real, honest laughter and says, “If you get any more nervous, we’ll be able to put coal up your ass to produce diamonds large enough to make De Beers jealous.” And that makes me smile a little. “Now that we’ve gotten our job interview greeting out of the way…”

“I don’t know what to say first. Do I tell you how much I love your art or beg for forgiveness first? Do I tell you how much I’ve missed you, or should I be quiet and let you speak?” I wince and close my eyes, willing myself to be silent.

“Are you okay?” she asks, answering none of my questions.

“Good. Fine. You know, good. I’m good. Fine, I guess, even.” It’s the kind of lie you tell a stranger who asks because it’s polite, not because it’s true. I can’t remember the last time I answered honestly. I haven’t been fine for a long time.

“Lies still do not become us, sir. Are the cone of candor rules still in play?” Her tone implies there’s a correct answer, and her eyes miss nothing.

“I think they should be. I mean, I’m used to it, and I would vote for yes, given the opportunity.” I can’t look away. I try, but I keep drifting back. I lied to her when we last spoke. I need to fix that.

“The cone stands,” she says with a nod. Her words are gentle, and she looks at me with concern as she studies me. “I’ll ask again, are you okay?”

I’m shit scared.

“I’m better today than I’ve been since May.” The most miserable days of my life.