“Over there, maybe?”
He led her to the quietest corner of the room, where they could stand in the half-darkness just beyond the edge of the biggest fish tank. He leaned close to her and she thought again that he was almost stupidly attractive.
“So that woman you saw me with before…” he said just loudly enough to be heard above the music.
“Mmm?”
“Paul’s bachelor party last night, we all got pretty drunk. And she’s very nice, I mean I had a nice talk with her, but I don’t make a habit…since my divorce, I don’t make a habit…”
“Ren, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything you have to justify.”
“I know, I just…” He took a breath.
“I just didn’t know you were divorced.”
His mouth opened in shock. “Paul didn’t tell you?”
“I didn’t ask him. I guess I was waiting for you to tell me.”
Ren looked down again. “Right.”
“Why’d you stop texting me?” There. That was what she really wanted to say. “You stopped completely. At first I thought you had gotten busy, but…maybe you did get busy, but…”
He let out a long, slow breath. “Yeah.”
“I thought we were friends, and then it felt like…” She couldn’t finish. She didn’t know what it had felt like. Like she was a seductress he had to cut out of his life? Like he just didn’t like her anymore?
“No. We are friends,” he said now. “I hope we are.”
Sarah had a strange feeling of suspense. Half of her—more than half—had expected him to say that he hadn’t even realized he’d stopped texting her, that he had just gotten so busy that he had largely forgotten she existed. But his expression suggested that there was an explanation after all.
“Did I do something?” she asked.
“No!” He looked surprised.
She wondered again about Paola. Had there been a prohibition against talking to her? But if so, why hadn’t that ended when he separated from his wife?
He met her eyes. “I just…my marriage was not…good. It was falling apart. And I know you predicted that.”
“No, Ren.” Was that what he’d thought? During that last conversation at the art fair, that she’d been insinuating he would get a divorce?
“I felt… It felt weird writing you and not telling you I was having trouble. But explaining it…I thought…I guess I didn’t want you to…” He stopped.
Oh God. Did Ren think she was going to hit on him? Did Ren think that if she heard his marriage was on the rocks, she would make a move? What an utterly mortifying thought.
“You didn’t want me to what?” she asked, trying not sound defensive and failing. She had been dating someone, she thought angrily. She wasn’t going to throw herself at him at the first opportunity. In the middle of his divorce.
“I didn’t want you to say you agreed with her,” he said at last. “I didn’t want you to tell me that you’d never expected my marriage to work because I was kind of a fuck-up.”
She stared at him. “You thought…have I ever said anything about…?” She frowned. “I mean, I teased you about getting married, but only because…”
He frowned. There was a long silence. Ren tilted his head to one side, watching her as if he was trying to figure something out. Then he sighed slowly. “I guess…Paola made me feel like you made me feel at university sometimes, like she thought I was an idiot. And after a while, there was nothing left about me that she liked.” Sarah watched Ren’s pained expression. She’d never seen him like this. It was like the divorce had ripped him open, brought out some new level of honesty she had never witnessed before.
“No,” Sarah said gently. “I think you do a great job of taking care of people, and I’m sure you do a good job taking care of your son. You were nice to me in school. Always, even when we were arguing. Even when I turned you down. And if Paola didn’t respect you, and didn’t see that about you, that means she never understood you in the first place.”
He stared at her for a moment. There was the flash of a self-deprecating smile. “Well, if I’d known you were going to say that, I would have reached out earlier.”
She smiled briefly. “I just missed you.”
