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It wasn’t that simple. Nothing was anymore.
“Why don’t we just make this quick? I’m going to go out on a limb here and say neither one of us wants to be here today.” I took a breath, gazing out the window at the city outside bathed in late afternoon sunshine. “So, yeah, I remember what he said. But he also said we could stop, that we could end it at any time. We don’t have to do this, Nick. So, why are we?”
“I’ve got my reasons, but I’m more interested in what yours are. So, why don’t we start there?” He fixed me with those blue eyes, and for just the briefest of moments I was back there in college. Intro to Philosophy, the class had been. Tall, rangy Nick Fletcher had sat down next to me on that first day of class. And I think I’d fallen in love with him the first moment those eyes had fixed upon me.
“WhyI’m here doesn’t matter, not really.” I said the words not because they were true, but because I wanted him to give up. I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t going to be like it was in the past.
“Actually, Eva, it’s the most important question of all,” Nick muttered, his gaze sliding away, fixing up on the huge bookshelf dominating the wall next to the plate glass window. The dusty shelves were filled with tomes, and volumes, and manuals, the academic and professional imprimatur conveyed by the texts, completing the overall look of the office. But what usually happened in this space wasn’t about learning, and it wasn’t about teaching, either. It was, if one were very lucky, about honesty.
And on more than one occasion, it was about pain too.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Can we just not play these games? I didn’t come here to go round and round with you, about why or why not. My reasons are my own, and that’s going to have to be good enough.” I knew that would piss him off. I didn’t care. Well, I cared alittle. Angering him was unlikely to make this session get over with any faster. But maybe I’d get lucky.
I looked up at the clock on the wall, the oversized black characters, Roman numerals, taunting me. The second hand, clicking away, moved at an almost glacial pace.
Eighteen minutes.
Just as we both knew the rules stated, the clock started at the appointed time. When we were supposed to meet, the countdown began. It didn’t matter that Nick was almost ten minutes late, the clock began from that time. In fact, it was better for me. But still I couldn’t suppress the upwelling of dread—and something else entirely—at seeing how little time had actually elapsed. Was it that I wanted it to get over with? Or was I shocked at the realization that with each minute elapsed it was one less to never seeing this man again.
That thought should have been comforting, even something that would make me actually happy. But it wasn’t.
No, it wasn’t anything of the sort.
“That’s not good enough for me, Eva. You know the rules.” He didn’t move at all as he said the words, still as a statue at the other end of his couch, his hands softly stroking the worn ornate arm he leaned against, the lacquer peeling away in several spots, revealing the faded color of the raw, bare wood beneath. “Answer my question. Just tell the truth.”
I hated this rule. I’d hated it when Dennis had first said it, but I’d ignored it. I assumed it would all be academic anyway, that Nick wouldn’t even bother to show up. But he had.
Which left me in a position I hadn’t gamed out in front of my bathroom mirror.
Being honest.
“He said it himself, didn’t he? I want to see it through. To be able to tell myself that I had tried everything.”
Nick’s gaze seemed to harden as I said the words, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was anger or the realization that I wasn’t going to make this easy for him. That I wasn’t the same Eva I’d been all those months ago.
He was about to find out just how much I had changed. He was about to find out that it really was too late.
“Now you have to answer my question, don’t you? So, I wanna know. Why did you come today?” In truth, I didn’t really care. But I was curious. He’d already surprised me once by simply showing up.
He had been someone who, in the past, liked to sometimes avoid a situation, rather than confront it head on. It wasn’t so much passive aggressiveness as it was a reluctance to engage in conflict. At first, I’d found such a thing calming, even refreshing, so unlike most of the men I’d been involved with in the past. There was almost a serenity to him.
But over time, I’d seen it for what it really was—weakness. Timidity. Reticence to handle confrontation and conflict.
In short, it was something I realized Ineededin a man…and I’d concluded that Nick didn’t have it.
“Because I wanted to see if you’d really follow through. If you would, for once in your life, own up—and do as you’re told.”
“No, wait a second. I don’t think you under—”
He held up hand, shaking his head slowly. “You know the rules.”
I did, and I gritted my teeth as I realized Nick did too.
The rule seemed simple enough—answer any question asked and expect the same in return. But it was the second part of that rule, that even now I still couldn’t believe was going to be a part of this.
That for that one hour…I had to do whatever it was Nick told me to do.
I glanced up at the clock. Fourteen minutes left. Thatshouldhave been a relief.
