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There’s nothing childish about this incredible woman, and I want to say that. But I don’t know how to convey it properly.
She pins the blanket against her with one hand and then grabs her hair and starts raking through it with the other. It looks like it hurts, with the way she’s pulling on it. “Also?” she adds. “I think I’m sad that I’m not sad, you know?”
“Uh . . .”
“Like, he was such a big part of my life for so long. Shouldn’t I be in mourning right now? Shouldn’t I feel stricken with grief that not only did we break up, but now he’s marrying someone else?”
“I think it’s handy you don’t. Feeling sad sucks.”
She gives a watery laugh. “I mean, yes and no. But what does that say about me?” She pulls a face and digs into her sweats pocket, bringing up a tissue to dab at her eyes. “That I hung onto a relationship that I don’t care about for so long? Why have I done this?”
“All this stuff is above my paygrade. I’m not a therapist. But it’s good to know he wasn’t the one.”
Her silence tells me maybe she agrees.
“Does Camilla know?” I finally ask.
Aria shakes her head. “About the breakup, yes. But not this. I didn’t want to call her since I know she’d rush right over, but she’s been helping me so much with moving and everything, I didn’t want to take up more of her time.”
“She’ll actually want to kill me if she knew I knew before she did.”
Aria giggles. “That’s very true. I just don’t want her to come over.”
“Then tell her you’re going to bed. Or tell her in the morning and I’ll fake surprise.”
A smile plays about her lips. “Show me your ‘I had no idea Aria’s ex got engaged so fast’ face.”
I give her my face of agony and shock—and in my mind it’s a pretty good mash up of Edvard Munch’s painting, “The Scream” and the scene fromThe Princess Bridewhen Westley gets hooked up to the torture machine.
“What? Do you think I’m a monster?” Her eyes well with tears and she disappears into her room.
“Wait, wait, sorry. I’m not good at this. Come back.”
She returns in a moment with a fresh tissue.
“Here. How’s this?” I give an exaggerated gasp and cover my mouth. I will my eyes to well with tears. “Aria, this is a shock.”
“That’s a little better, you big goof. Look, my head hurts. I should skip the movies and go to sleep. Except I’m kind of freaked out that you can hear me so well.”
“I can’t. You just happened to be crying really loudly.”
She grunts. “I don’t think so.”
“In all honesty, it took me a while to know what was happening over there. And you didn’t bother me. I’m glad you told me, Aria. And for what it’s worth,Iam sad you’re sad.” For some reason, the way she’s looking at me, with those fawn-like brown eyes searching mine, emboldens me. “I’m not sorry you guys broke up. But I am sorry you’re sad.”
She only nods and quirks a brief smile before removing the blanket from her shoulders, balling it up, and throwing it to me. I catch it and the sweet strawberry scent of her is in the air. I resist the urge to press my nose to the blanket.
No promises I won’t later.
She returns to her apartment, closing her door with a firm click.
I close mine, too, and then collapse in my chair, the warm blanket still in my hands.
Aria is single.
And that thought about taking her on one date just to say that I’ve done it—just to get her out of my system?
That was a bunch of bull. A hundred dates couldn’t do that.
