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I reached for the bottle of bourbon and took another swig, letting it fall down my throat, burning it.
“I see three of you, so it’s not entirely surprising that I’m not exactly following but . . . I’m not exactly following.”
“I’m saying, what if Jordan’s right that you’ve gone off this so-called deep end? Why does that leave you any worse off than before? ”
I held the bottle out for him to take. “How’s that’s supposed to make anything better?”
“It just seems to me that the deep end was where you were headed. One way or the other. Even if you had stayed in that halfway house of a life in L.A.” He paused. “The question is, what are you going to do about it now? Ignore what you know, or pick something that counts?”
I was having a little too much trouble following that too, which was when—in my lucidless haze—I started to wonder who he was really talking to with his little speech: me or him.
“Are you worried she’s not going to forgive you? ” I said. “Once the dust has settled, and everyone’s calmed down? Are you worried Cheryl isn’t going to be able to try again?”
Jesse took another long drink, swallowing slowly. “Cheryl’s not the one I’m worried about.”
I looked at him, confused. “You’re worried about Jude Flemming?” I said.
“I’m worried about Jude Flemming,” he said. “After all, she’s really the wronged person in this scenario.”
“How so?”
“We got involved when I was at a very bad moment, very bad for anybody wanting something from me,” he said. “Cheryl and I had just separated and . . .”
“Wait, you separated from Cheryl before Jude?”
“Yeah.”
“Jude Flemming wasn’t the cause?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. She thought she was going to be my answer, though,” he said. “She was convinced she was going to be my answer. And, then, I guess I could be hers too. Except for the fact that I never stopped wanting to be with my wife, which I tried to be incredibly clear about. She’s still not hearing me on that point.”
“Wait, which she?”
“Take your pick.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
He took a long slug from bourbon bottle. “And the worst part is, Jude and I only had sex one time. Relations. One time, and she’s pregnant.” He paused. “We’re like an after-school special. The elderly version.”
This stopped me.
“But . . .” I shook my head, totally confused. “Then why were you separated from Cheryl in the first place?”
“I’d gotten her yoga lessons for her birthday. Private yoga lessons. With Theodore. Just Theodore. One name. Like Madonna. Can you believe that crap? He’s supposed to be the best yoga teacher in Boston though. And I never seemed to get her anything she liked for her birthday, so, against my better judgment, I hired him.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s just say that, this year, I finally got my wife something she liked for her birthday.”
My eyes opened wide. “Cheryl and Theodore?”
“Cheryl and Theodore. Though, if you believe her, it isn’t physical between them. How do you even compete with that? After all, if she’s getting so much from Theodore emotionally, doesn’t that say something about what she wasn’t getting from me?”
I couldn’t help but think of Nick—Nick and his emotional match, Pearl. How do you compete with that? With the possibility of what might be? I didn’t even know how to try.
“Jesse, I’m so sorry,” I said.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Now she doesn’t know what she wants. She came back to me for a minute, she left again,” he said. “She talked about coming back another time, then felt like she wasn’t ready.”
