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He waves the bartender over. “Can I have two of these?” He points to the Amstel on the bar. The bartender heads for the chiller as Evan takes a seat on a stool. Two Amstel’s appear on top of the bar. Evan pushes one toward me. I take a long pull from it. “I know we spoke at the beginning of the summer, and you said we could try to be friends. I’m hoping we can get back to the way we were when we first started dating. We were so happy then.” His tone is wistful.
I remember when we first met. I was a freshman in high school. Our school district was large so we went to separate junior highs. I was so young and naïve. Eventually, once I got to know Evan, I saw how charming he was. I hung on every word he said like he was the only man on Earth. We had so much in common. He pulls me out of my reverie.
“I thought we could start out as friends, and maybe if you can learn to trust me again, become something more.” Crap. Double crap. I need to tell him about Chase before he gets any ideas.
“Evan, I need to tell you something.” He gazes at me, waiting. Okay, here it goes. “I’m seeing someone.” His face falls, the color draining from his face.
“What?” he whispers in horror.
“I met someone at Davis,” is all I can manage to squeak out.
“But . . . what about . . . I thought . . .” he stammers.
“He was there to pick up the pieces.”
“I thought you loved me,” he says, his voice anguished.
“I do, but I don’t think I can love you the way that you want me to anymore.”
“Yes, you can,” he almost shouts. I can see a myriad of emotions cross his face. Anger. Hurt. Fear. He takes a deep breath. “I know I fucked up, and you have every right to hate me for it.” Oh, he’s changing tact. “But please, don’t rush into anything while you’re hurting,” he beseeches me.
“I’m not. We’re taking things really slow.” I know I’ve only been with Chase for a short period of time, but he cares about me and I’m not sure I want to do anything to risk that.
“At the risk of sounding crazy, I don’t want to see you hurt.” Well I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for me being hurt! This conversation is making me dizzy. I slam down the rest of my Amstel and wave for another.
“Look,” I say aggrieved. “I don’t want to argue about this. I don’t see the harm of trying to be friends but nothing more, not now.” As long as he understands his boundaries, maybe this can work.
He stares at me. I can see the wheels in his head working overtime. “Okay, I can accept that. For now.”
I’m not sure what’s giving me the strength to sit here with Evan and have a semi-normal conversation. It’s very surreal. I’m angry, but not as much as I was a few weeks ago. Being with Evan starts to feel comfortable, except for the whore that is dangling over our heads.
We sit and talk for ho
urs about things we’ve been doing over the summer. I neglect to add any information that might involve Chase. There’s no reason to pour salt on his wounds, although a couple of months ago, it would have been hydrochloric acid.
I glance at my watch and see it is almost eleven. Holy shit. “I need to go. I have an early appointment tomorrow.”
“Um . . . okay. Can we do this again soon?” he asks.
“I’ll be living in Manhattan this time next week. Maybe you can meet me in the city,” I suggest.
“Okay, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“Thanks.”
Chase knocks at the door, punctual as usual. He is breathtaking in a pair of khaki’s and a tight white t-shirt. I look dull in comparison in my cropped jeans and black tank top. I step aside so he can come in.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he purrs as he kisses my forehead. He is all smiles this morning.
“Good morning, yourself.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, let me grab my bag,” I say as I hear noise coming down the stairs. Crap, my mom’s up.
“Honey, are you leaving?” she yells down the stairs.
“Yes,” I call back. She appears from around the wall and almost walks right into Chase.
