I was happy to head to my place and fuck Jessica into oblivion, but apparently it was more important to come here, where I’ve received endless shit over the woman who has taken up residence in my life.
I can’t even deny it. We are pretty much inseparable.
I mean, just this morning, she made me run through the woods at dawn and then insisted I eat more of those high-protein jars of mush.
As I sat at my kitchen table listening to her talk a mile a minute, an inexplicable contentment warmed what I’d previously thought was my cold, dead heart.
I’m starting to forget what it’s like to not be around her.
I find myself wrestling with unfamiliar emotions like wanting to see her stuff in my bathroom and the way my chest feels full when the sun washes over her in the morning.
Something has changed inside me. Something I don’t recognize, and for the strangest reason, since I’ve opened up to her, I want to talk to Mitch.
After thirty-six years of remaining detached, I’ve found myself in a relationship, and I have no idea what to do about it. So it seems like a good idea to talk to the one person who’s always been there for me.
I’m sitting on the railing of the porch, resting my back against the column and looking out over the expanse of lawn Maddie has artistically landscaped over the last couple of years.
I take a sip of my beer and ask the question that’s been nagging at me since we came out here to escape the madness. “How did you know Maddie was it for you?”
The porch swing he’s been softly swaying on stills for a moment before he says, “It wasn’t one thing. More a cumulation of a lot of different things. Things like wanting to be around her all the time. Or how when something happened, she was the person I wanted to tell. When she walked into a room, it was more than being happy to see her—it was like everything got a little bit brighter. On her worst day, I’d still rather be with her than anyone else. My world, and everything in it, is better because she’s a part of it.”
For reasons I cannot possibly fathom, his words make my throat tighten. The breeze blows, and I continue to stare into the yard.
“Do you think Jessica is it for you?” The question is careful, like if he says the wrong thing, I might run off.
But how can I run off? Jessica is here. “Isn’t it too soon for that?”
“I’m not one to judge, considering all the ways I schemed to keep Maddie in my house.” He grins like he’s recalling a fond memory before saying, “If it helps, it’s not in your imagination. You are different with her.”
“How so?” It hadn’t occurred to me that anyone had noticed.
“You smile more, laugh more. She challenges you. When she’s around, you forget to put distance between you and everyone else. Since you’ve met her, you’ve voluntarily talked to me twice. Seems like that means something.”
I rest my head against the column. “She makes me want to be a better man.”
He chuckles. “That’s definitely a sign.”
I confess the fear lurking like a dark shadow. “I don’t think I’m good enough for her. She deserves someone better at this than I am.”
“Why do you think that?”
“How can I give her the life she’s used to when I don’t have the foundation?”
“What makes you think you don’t have the foundation?”
I cross my arms over my chest, letting the bottle dangle from my fingers. “Please. All I know is how to do is survive, and she deserves more than that.”
“I don’t know about that. Maybe you’re better at it than you think you are.”
I scowl. “Has my history escaped you?”
He’s quiet for a bit, swinging gently as the chains squeak. “I suppose that depends on your point of view.”
“You lost me.”
“You told me the only reason you were in that bar to begin with was because you felt like shit after consoling Felicia for an hour.”
“I couldn’t just leave. I owed her that.”
