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“Whatever you want is fine.”
“I was thinking of making tacos.” When I nod in agreement, she goes about making dinner. “Now, is there anything you need to talk about? Are you still sober? I’m really proud of you, by the way.” She sets down her ingredients and walks over to hug me again. “You deserve another hug and a pat on the back for that.” I chuckle as she pats me on the back as well.
“You didn’t give me a chance to confirm,” I point out as she gets back to cooking.
“I can tell by looking at you and how you’re talking. Not to say you aren’t still wound tight, but you have a different look about you.”
“Talk to me about you.” I’m over talking about me already.
Idaline sighs. “We finally switched out my medications about a month ago and that’s been an adjustment. I was having a hard time sleeping before, right? Well, now, I’m overly tired, but not so much so that I’m willing to change the meds yet. And when my anxiety hits, I might not have a full-blown panic attack, but it exhausts me. I worry Justin will break up with me soon, even though he seems to understand, but if I have a panic attack right before we meet up or while I’m with him, I end up needing a nap because I’m emotionally and mentally exhausted.”
“That doesn’t really sound like your medications are working, Idaline.”
“They are, though,” she insists. “I think I just need a little more time to adjust.”
“When do you go back to your psychiatrist?” The only reason I know anything about this shit is because of her. I’ve learned through her and sometimes, I look stuff up.
“In three weeks.”
“If it doesn’t sort itself out by then, you might need another change.”
“I know,” she replies quietly. Idaline takes a deep breath. “I feel a little better after talking with you, even just that bit.”
I tilt my head as I watch her cook the meat. “Why exactly?”
“Because Justin doesn’t really ask questions or respond to anything I say about it. It’s infuriating, sometimes. He either stays quiet and nods his head while I talk or he says something about it being my mind and I know it better than him, so he shouldn’t have any influence. Sure, he might have a point, but it wouldn’t hurt for him to have a conversation with me. If you can do it, I don’t understand why he can’t. I don’t even bring it up to him anymore if I don’t absolutely have to because it’s pointless.”
“Things are still going well between the two of you, aren’t they?”
She nods. “It’s been almost four months and this is the biggest bump in the road we’ve had. Not one argument yet.”
That seems unnatural. I might not be in the best relationship, but not even one argument? That doesn’t make sense to me. How is it possible? A soul-crushing thought hits me. Maybe that means Justin is her soulmate. That thought makes me want to puke and drink an entire bottle of tequila.
“Do you think y’all will be together for a long time?”
This question? Idaline doesn’t answer right away. She’s quiet for so long that I’m about to repeat my question, thinking she didn’t hear me, when she answers, “I don’t know.” It almost seems as if she wants to add more to her statement, but she doesn’t. “Let’s eat, Farlain Cadmus.”
I laugh, enjoying that she’s straying from common names. But she still won’t guess mine.
“Do you think you’ll be with Lila for a long time?” I ask.
“No,” FC immediately answers before stuffing half his taco into his mouth.
My frown is prominent and I’m so confused. If he already knows this, then why are they still together? He seems pretty certain to me. How else could he answer so quickly? FC looks like he hopes this is the end of this discussion, but I can’t hold the question back. “If you know that now, why don’t you leave her?”
His sigh is just as quick as his no was. “It’s complicated.” How is on the tip of my tongue, but FC reaches out and cups my face, causing me to suck in a breath. “Please don’t ask.” A tortured look fills his eyes. “I promise that one day, I don’t know when, but one day, I’ll tell you why.”
I’m certain he’s not happy about making this promise to me, but he didn’t have to do it. He could’ve simply asked me not to ask, and I think I could’ve lived with it. I am happy he made the promise, though. FC withdraws his hand when I nod my acceptance. My chest aches as if my soul protests and leaves me to reach out to FC. I shake my head to get rid of those thoughts. If FC’s my soulmate, I’m probably screwed because my hope for something more constantly dwindles.
“Tell me a secret,” FC requests, obviously wanting to steer the conversation away from his relationship yet again.
We eat in silence for a few minutes while I try to think of something I’ve yet to tell him. When something comes to me, I second-guess telling him because it’s slightly embarrassing. But this is FC; I can tell him anything.
“Okay. So, when I’m looking up names to try and guess yours, I look up other names too. I write down my favorites, just in case I need them one day.”
FC watches me for a moment and then he says, “Let me see.”
I get up and find the same notebook where I keep track of the failed FC names. In the very back are my list of favorites. I turn to the first page of those names and hand it over to FC. There’s a faint smile on his face as he analyzes the names, turning the pages every so often.
