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Ava
I was happy to have reconnected with Ari. She helped me move my things to the new apartment. Nate disappeared into his home office as soon as he let me in the gate, which was odd. I couldn’t tell what was going on with him.
He invited me into his home, and I thought things were going well. I wanted to talk about what we were doing and where the relationship was going, but every time I tried, he changed the subject. I wasn’t sure if he had someone else in his life, or if he was just uncomfortable having meaningful discussions.
Either way, it left me unsure which way to turn. I didn’t want to assume that I was there for the long run. He didn’t ask me to move in officially. He didn’t ask me anything officially. It was all very casual, and that was fine. I certainly didn’t need another hot and heavy romance. Dealing with Marcus was enough, though that fire had cooled. Maybe I wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone else, although it was disappointing that Nate didn’t try to stop me from moving out.
Mariah offered me the new apartment, and I immediately considered Nate’s feelings. He stood beside me, listening in as his mother extolled the virtues of the new place. I glanced up, curious to see how he would react. But his face was a mask of stone, telling me nothing.
I was on my own, and I made the decision I thought would benefit everyone. Accepting the invitation, I was distressed to see Nate walk back into his office and shut the door. He was infuriating. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or how he was feeling. If he didn’t want me to leave, why didn’t he just say something? I didn’t want to live in his home for an indefinite period of time without knowing that he wanted me there. In the absence of knowledge, I was just feeling my way forward.
The new apartment was lovely. It was smaller than the last, but cleaner. The flooring was updated and the curtains were clean. The carpet was fresher and the appliances in the kitchen were much more modern. The layout was a little bit different. You had to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom, and the kitchen was on the far wall instead of right as you walked in the door.
The nonprofit had equipped this apartment with toys and games just like the previous one. I thumbed through the paperbacks, noticing that some of the titles were new and some were classic. I didn’t want to read, remembering all the fun I had at Nate’s place. I didn’t want to watch cheesy rom-coms or take a bath by myself.
I felt like I made a mistake, but I didn’t know what to do to fix it. I didn’t feel like I could avail myself of Nate’s charity forever. He hadn’t said anything about how long I was welcome in his home, and every time I tried to bring up the subject, he avoided it. So we were at an impasse.
I texted Ari, inviting her out for dinner. She agreed, and I was able to get out of my own space for a few hours. It was strange. At my first apartment, I was so happy to be by myself, throwing ice cream parties in front of the television and enjoying quiet evenings alone. Things had changed in the short week I spent with Nate. I wasn’t satisfied by myself any longer.
Ari was great company. We talked about fashion and pets. Ari had two cats and was thinking about getting a third. She was single and didn’t care if anybody knew it.
“I’m becoming an old cat lady already,” she teased.
“You’re not an old cat lady,” I responded, picking at my meal. “You just have a few cats.”
“But how many cats is too many?” she wondered. “Like, if I get another one, I’ll have three. Does three cats make you a cat lady?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “Definitely six is too many.”
“What about four?”
“I think four might be pushing it,” I said with a smile. It was a relief to be discussing something so meaningless. Although, if I mentioned that I thought her pets were meaningless, Ari would probably have a bone to pick. “But three is fine.”
“Phew,” she sat back, as if the problem had been solved and we could move on.
I laughed. But then at the end of the meal, I had to go home alone. I sat down in front of my new television to watch something. I needed to take my mind off my own problems, but found that nearly impossible. Every man on screen was Nate, and every woman was me. All the stupid miscommunications that they experienced only threw my own failures back in my face.
The cues fell flat, and the drama imploded, leaving me unsettled. I turned the television off and went to bed. In the morning, Nate was cold and standoffish. I did my best to act professional, even though I was hurt. He didn’t invite me in for breakfast, and he didn’t have much to say to me throughout the day.
I wondered if he was upset that I had moved out. If that was the case, why didn’t he just say something? I was in the dark and doing the best I could with the information at hand. Yet, he seemed to think I was no longer interested in an intimate relationship. He went from kind and loving to cold and distant in a heartbeat.
He called me into his office in the morning to give me a list of things to work on. There was no friendly inflection in his voice, nothing to suggest that we were lovers. He finished his directions and turned me loose, apparently expecting me to go back to my desk and perform the tasks.
I opened my mouth. I was about to tell him off. How dare he treat me like this, when all I wanted to do was lie in his arms? I wasn’t the one who drove a wedge between us. Was it my imagination, or did he take my moving out as some kind of criticism?
A thousand accusations thundered through my mind, leaving me dizzy and breathless. In the end, I shut my mouth and walked away. I decided that he just needed some space. Things weren’t over between us; they were just getting started. He would see that I didn’t mean any harm. We weren’t husband and wife or even a legitimate couple yet. Surely the simple act of leaving his home wasn’t going to end our romance before it even really got started.
I told myself this as I worked to accomplish all the things he asked me to do. In the evening, I let myself back into his office to ask if he needed anything else. I had my own car, and I wasn’t going home with him, but it was strange. I became accustomed to riding in and out of work with him. Our domestic life had been wonderful while it lasted. There was no reason that we couldn’t do something like that again if we wanted. I just didn’t need the crisis with Marcus to push us together.
“Can I get you anything else before I leave?” I asked.
“No,” he said, turning back to his phone call. “Thank you,” he added as an afterthought.
“I have some things left at your place,” I said timidly, wondering if I could come over that night.
Nate acted like he didn’t hear me. He was so focused on whoever he was talking to, that it was like I didn’t even exist. I decided I would swing by his place later. If we weren’t together, I wasn’t sure how late he would work. Maybe nine o’clock was a safe bet.
I drove over to the gated community around nine, and found it locked. I buzzed Nate’s home, but no one answered. I texted him but he didn’t respond. Feeling rejected, I turned around and drove away. The next day was Saturday. I tried calling him but he didn’t pick up. I drove over to see him, but he didn’t come to the gate. I attempted to reach out in every conceivable manner, but he just ghosted me. It felt wrong. I was scared and hurt and all the other negative emotions piled up into one.
