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That kind of man, selfless, generous, kind? That’s what Dad literally just said he wants for me.
Hell, it’s the kind of man anyone would want.
“What happens after Dad recovers?” I ask. “And we tell him we lied.”
Abel peers out over the water. “Does it matter if seeing you safe and settled is part of what helps him recover?”
Fair point.
“And after this is all over...” Abel pauses. “We come clean. Or maybe we tell everyone that we rushed things and realized we’re better supports for one another as friends.”
“You think they’ll actually buy that?”
“No idea. Point being, we’ll have a concrete exit plan.”
It’s strange. I keep getting the feeling that Abel actually wants to do this. Wants to be engaged to me. Fake engaged. Which makes no sense, so I shove the idea aside.
“Then we do it,” I say. “I’ll do anything to make Dad happy.”
Abel swivels his head. “Think on it. We can talk about it in a couple days. You’ve been drinking.”
“Two sips. Stop patronizing me.”
“I still want you to think about it.”
“Do you need to think about it?”
A sign announcing our arrival to South Port fills the windshield. Abel starts the truck. “I have thought about it. I’ll do whatever you want to do.”
I laugh for the millionth time while simultaneously fighting off the urge to puke. “I’m seeing someone.”
Abel goes very still. “You haven’t said a word to me about this.”
“That’s because it’s”—I shift in my seat—“casual. New. More of a situationship than anything.”
“What the fuck is a situationship?”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“How long have you been seeing him?”
“A month or so.” Longer than that, but I’m embarrassed to admit it.
“Who is he?”
“Someone I met at work.”
“Y’all seeing just each other? Or other people too?”
My turn to look out the window. “We’re not exclusive.”
Dead silence. The air practically rings with Abel’s judgment. I cringe inwardly, a damp prickle breaking out underneath my arms. We’re at the landing now, dockhands securing the barge to the dock with ropes as thick as my forearm.
“You’re done with him.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“Tell him you’re engaged.” Abel puts the truck in gear. “Better yet, tell him you’re married.”
