I’ve just had a bath, and I’m wearing a pink t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. I’m rubbing my hands with lotion. My heart is heavy, but oddly enough, I’m not nervous or scared at all.
‘We need to talk, John.”
He raises his gaze to mine with a curious expression — I normally don’t interrupt when he’s reading. He bookmarks his story and sets down his tablet on the bed. “What’s going on?” He knows something’s up. I think he’s known for a while, but just didn’t want to face it.
I inch closer to him on the bed. “Tell me about Amanda.”
His shoulders slump. “Gabbie, you know that’s not a good idea.”
“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea. Besides, I already know a lot about her,” I confess. “I’ve Googled her and checked her out on Facebook. She’s very pretty.”
“Oh, Gabbie,” he says. “Don’t.”
“We’ve never talked about her because I didn’t want to,” I say. “I wanted to pretend the whole thing didn’t happen. But it did happen, didn’t it?”
He lets out a sigh. “It did.”
“How did it start?” I ask. “Please tell me. I’ve always wondered.”
His gaze darts across the room. “We met at an author signing. We already both knew about each other, but had never met.”
“Did you think she was beautiful?”
“Gabbie…”
“Answer me… did you think she was beautiful?”
His gaze pulls from mine. “Yes… I still do.”
It cuts a little, but not too much. “What was it like at first, with her?”
He smiles. “It wasn’t about sex at all at the start, Gabbie, I swear. We were just friends.”
“Well, that’s how it often starts, doesn’t it.”
“Yes…” he agrees. “ It wasn’t until months later that we… slept together for the first time. We just had so much in common, and she made me laugh. She made me feel young again. I’d forgotten how there was another side of me, someone beyond a father and a bestselling author. I looked forward to our chats… You know that show I love,Curb your Enthusiasm, the show you can’t stand?”
“Yes… what about it?”
“She loves that show. We could probably talk for hours about a single episode.”
“So obviously, she shares your snarky dry sense of humor.”
He bites his lip. “I swear, Gabbie, I’ve been good, and so has she. We haven’t communicated since I broke it off.”
“Do you miss her?”
He stares down at the bed cover and doesn’t make a peep.
“You can tell me the truth,” I say. “I miss Eli… so much.”
He turns to me, and in his eyes, there’s so much pain. “I do. I miss her.”
“Did she love you?”
He turns from me. “She did.”
I’m speechless, shaken by the conviction with which he utters those words — he’s so sure of her love for him. I honestly couldn’t be sure that Eli truly loves me like I love him. But John and Amanda have shared months; months of friendship, and months as lovers. Eli and I have shared months of friendship as well, but only a week together.
