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I draw in a breath, knowing this conversation could go two ways. “In a nutshell, she told me she knows about Dominic and me. Basically, she knows that Dominic has feelings, and she won’t stand in the way of us being together, but she needs to stay married to him.”
The more I speak, the more I sound like a complete fool. This entire situation is the complicated mess I’ve been trying to avoid.
“Back the hell up,” he berates with an angered tone. “She wants you to be his mistress or whatever the fuck you want to call it?”
“In layman’s terms, yes.”
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“And so, he loves you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“I never said love, Noah,” I correct him. “I said feelings, emotions.”
“Do you love him?”
I hesitate, but only just. “No.”
“You hesitated…”
“I hesitated because you caught me off-guard with your question.”
The toxic silence between us rears its ugly head. Why did I think this conversation would go well? The same argument could’ve been had with Charlie.
“Listen, I better go,” he mumbles. “I don’t blame him, Kate. Just so you know.”
The call ends abruptly, forcing me to stare at the screen. His final words leave a heavier note, but Noah has often expressed his emotions, and I never read any more into it.
Instead of leaving the office, I purposely bury my head into more work, leaving just before nine. By the time I stop to grab something to eat, it’s dark when I reach my apartment.
Upon opening the door and kicking off my shoes, the sound of silence welcomes the loneliness. A shower or bath will normally relax my tense muscles, but even the thought brings little solace.
Still in my work attire, I sit on the couch and turn on the television. I mindlessly channel surf to no avail until I turn the damn thing off. Frustrated with my mind unable to switch off, I open the doors to the balcony and step out into the summer’s night air. The breeze is refreshing against my skin, the sounds of noise on the street drown out the silence in my head. People are walking together, laughing, and some more intimate, holding hands. The restaurant across the street is busy with lots of patrons dining out.
Last weekend feels like a lifetime ago. Perhaps there’s truth to what Charlie said, Paris is beautiful, but home is where the heart is loved.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, sending Noah a quick text asking if he can talk. He responds with a simple yes. My fingers move quickly and dial his number, placing him on speaker as I lean against the window and stare into the sky.
“Hello,” is all he answers, his tone flat and uninviting.
“Noah, I don’t like the way we ended things tonight. I’m sorry I told you, or perhaps not sorry I told you, but sorry I didn’t communicate the actual conversation correctly. But I’m calling just to make sure you’re okay after meeting with Morgan.”
“Sure, I guess.”
His closed answers are frustrating, and my mind begins to conjure up thoughts. Does she want to reunite? Did something happen? Thoughts are rampant doing nothing to ease the tension.
“And? What happened?”
“She’s seeing someone.”
“Oh,” I answer, not expecting that response. The more it sinks in, the more I realize his somber mood is from jealousy. Of course, he’s upset, he still loves her, right? “I understand, Noah. You love her, and now there’s someone else.”
“No, Kate, you don’t understand,” he almost threatens me.
“Well, then enlighten me?”
“I’m not upset because she’s seeing someone. I’m upset because for every second she speaks to me telling me that she’s seeing some guy and wants Jessa to meet him, all my mind can think about is you and Dominic.”
“Noah,” I stutter, confused by why his thoughts are misplaced. “There’s nothing going on right now.”
