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My face got warm as I looked up to his smiling face. He stepped aside so I could enter.
“You have a key,” he stated as he closed the door.
“I know...I just feel weird using it.” The day of closing he’d given me the extra key and garage door opener. Both sat in a drawer at home.
“Where’s Lil’ Man?” he asked, walking past me toward the family room. He plopped down on that couch before picking up the remote to turn the volume down on the Sunday football game he was watching.
“Um, Dorian took him to my parents before she headed to Charlotte. I...I knew we needed to talk...about a lot of stuff.”
“Why’s she headed to Charlotte?”
“Her divorce is being finalized this week, and she has a few things left to tie up with her house and such.”
He nodded, but made no direct comment. He picked up the remote, and turned off the TV. “You can sit or do you feel weird about doing that, too?” His head snapped down and he leaned forward to put the remote back on the table then looked over at me. “Sorry. Just you standing there...ignore what I said. You want a beer?”
He got up, and walked into the kitchen without waiting on a reply. I dropped my purse on the floor before taking a seat. I heard the pop of two bottles being opened, but kept my eyes trained on the now black screen of the large TV hanging over the fireplace. A bottle appeared in my line of vision. I took it, thanking him quietly. Malcolm resumed his position on the other end of the sofa. I took a long drink, trying to decide how to start this conversation. I rubbed my neck; the tension in the air closed in around me. My fingers brushed over the chain of the necklace I wore, moving down until I held the infinity symbol between my thumb and forefinger. I gave it a squeeze and took a breath.
“You could have finished watching your game.”
“It’s fine. My team was losing anyway.”
I took another drink. Why was this so hard? It was Malcolm. I knew him. We were friends. He was a good guy.
“I’ll make this easy for you. We can just pretend the last month didn’t happen.”
I turned to look at him. He took a drink from his bottle, and I tried to figure out if the indifferent look on his face was real or an act. My knee bounced, and my hands twisted around the beer bottle.
I swallowed. My mouth now dry, I brought the bottle to my lips, and guzzled the rest of the contents. This was what I’d wanted, what I’d been aiming for, so why did hearing him say that not give me the relief I’d expected?
“Is that what you want?”
Malcolm sat forward, rolling his bottle back and forth between his hands before finishing it off. “Calida, you said I ambushed you into a relationship you don’t want. Then, in so many words, you accused me of being like that son of a bitch because I wanted us to live together. Not to mention the comment about me not keeping my hands to myself, and your general discomfort when we’re together, alone or otherwise.”
He shot up from the couch. His sudden movement caught me by surprise. The indifferent look he’d had was an act; one that melted away as he threw my words from that day back at me. I let all of this happen. If I’d just stood my ground, and told him no that day we wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have tainted everything that had been between us.
“You’re having fucking panic attacks, Calida! What I want is irrelevant.”
“I just need some time.” My voice sounded small. I hated disappointing him, hurting him.
“Time for what? To better fortify that wall around your heart? To figure out a way to deal with a relationship you clearly don’t want? What good does that do either of us? I told you, unlike him, I won’t force you to stay in a relationship you don’t want, regardless of what you seem to think.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, and let out slow controlled breaths. Malcolm’s words sliced through me; the accusations and anger seared into my soul. “I’m sorry.” It was the only thing I could say. I knew I’d make a mess of things, and I wasn’t wrong.
My hand shook as I brought the beer to my lips, only to be reminded I’d already finished it. Malcolm walked over and took the bottle.
I stopped twirling the ring around my finger to take the new one that appeared in front of my face. I looked up at him. A sad smile marred his normally playful demeanor. He reached out and ran his thumb across my cheek.
“It’s not your fault. I should have known better.” He walked away, and retook his seat on the sofa.
“What do you mean? You should have known better how?”
He took a drink from his own new bottle; his eyes remained glued to mine. “You weren’t ready. If I had really paid attention, I would have realized that. I don’t know that you ever will be.”
His words weren’t meant with malice, that I could tell. Still, they managed to cut deeper into the open wounds of my heart. “Why...why would you say that?”
He took another drink, prolonging my agony, as I waited to hear what he had to say.
“I watched you last night, and what I saw amazed me. I mean, it should have been obvious, all things considered, but I guess I’d only seen what I wanted to see. Or rather, what you’d showed everyone.”
