The last few weeks were a blur of shame spiraling and therapy. And her constant reassuring messages.
God, I’d been so stupid. And now she was taken. Officially. If I could go back in time, I’d say yes to that cursed video call; just let the truth come out and deal with the consequences.
But no. It was still better to have these emails with her than nothing at all. Those at least remained consistent. We talked about everything and anything—save my aversion to details. She was accepting of my flaws and weaknesses and never seemed to think I could do more or be better. She accepted me as I was. At least the bits I allowed her to see.
There was one noticeable change that had come with Kate’s new relationship status: the time stamps of our emails. Less random and more predictable. We used to email back and forth all night. Now I only heard from her primarily during what must be her lunch hour. Not that my brain automatically calculated the time difference between Devon and Minneapolis on reflex or anything so sad.
“Christ, what a nob.” I wasn’t sure if I meant him or me. No. Definitely me. I waited too long. And I’d wasted my shot.
I put the ladies away and headed back to the house to wash up. After I showered, I stood at the back window, watching another storm blow in and making sure the kids were okay.
I was also silently regretting every life choice I ever made.
“You’re in my way,” Agata said from beside me.
I didn’t jump as high as I used to. I’d become accustomed to her sneaky ninja ways. Now Agata only startled me slightly.
“Go mope somewhere else,” she said.
“I’m not moping,” I said. Just because I was staring out the window and watching the rain, thinking of Kate, didn’t mean I was moping.
“Your forehead grease is all over my clean window.”
“Sorry.” I sighed and stepped back.
“This about your pretty American you always write to?”
I nodded. “She’s seeing someone.” I wasn’t sure why I mentioned it. Maybe I was looking for a little extra company at this pity party. A little extra coddling.
“Ah. You stupid man,” Agata said.
I blinked at her. I should have seen that coming. Seeking sympathy from Agata was like going to the freezer to warm your hands.
“No frowning,” she said. “If you wanted to date her, you should have wooed. Did you woo?”
“No.” I thought about all the times I debated mailing her gifts to the PO box she had listed on her website. It would have been so easy to send her something related to Freddy Finks or even Charles Downing, but it felt too risky. Too … underhanded somehow. Sending gifts was another line neither of us had crossed. Same with me asking about stupid Pete.
“I didn’t woo,” I finished gruffly.
She shrugged before aggressively wiping a rag across the glass where my forehead had just been. “There you go. Women like her, they don’t wait for you to get your head out of your dupa.”
This wasn’t the first time Agata had used that particular Polish term in association with me.
“I know. It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t know what I expected.”
Agata muttered more Polish under her breath.
“What?” I asked.
“You waste so much time. Young are so stupid. You like her, you tell her. It’s easy.” She stretched on her tiptoes to try and wipe the top of the window.
I took the rag and wiped the area she couldn’t reach. “It wouldn’t have mattered. She’s too far away. She wouldn’t have … It doesn’t matter.”
“You make it harder than it needs to be. You have time and money.” She waited for me to finish before reaching up to slap my cheek in a somewhat affectionate, somewhat painful manner. “You are strong and good looking. You have money,” she repeated.
Like money was some tool that solved all problems. My money meant nothing. It was a symptom of the disease that is fame. It wasn’t like I earned it. Kate wouldn’t be impressed by it. Kate was a woman who deserved a man who would move mountains for her. A man who had worth, who would make her proud to be seen with.
I had nothing to offer. I was a lump on a log and a coward too afraid to show his face.
