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She just told you she doesn’t want to be with you, remember? Try and play it at least a little cool, idiot.
We climb into the car and start driving. She tells me her address and I plug it into the GPS.
Her place isn’t too far, but not an area I was really familiar with. None of the nice restaurants or bars are there; mostly just apartments. I never had a reason to go before.
As we drive, I talk. Mostly at her, because she’s still kind of chilly with me. I list out the cars parked in my personal garage, feeling my cheeks flush a little as I realize I sound like I’m bragging, now that she’s not showing any interest.
Most girls would throw themselves at me at the mention of shiny, luxury cars, but Tessa’s different. Her silence makes me feel like I’m a rich, out-of-touch asshole.
“But I’m not really that into cars. I mean, I have a few of them, but I’d be just as happy driving an old beater.”
She turns and raises a skeptical eyebrow.
I cough. “Well, maybe not just as happy. But, you know, as long as it gets you from A to B, right?”
“Sure, I guess.”
I try and figure out why I’m trying so hard with her. I could have any woman I want, as soon as I want. What makes Tess so different from those other girls?
Oh yeah, she’s my wife.
She flicks on the entertainment system and starts browsing through my music collection. I can only catch a glimpse of her scrolling on the screen before turning my attention back to the road. I hear a little cry of delight as she sees something she likes and turns it on.
I hear the first song start and I can hardly believe my own ears. “No way! You know The XXXXX?”
“Are you kidding? I love The XXX!” Tessa exclaims. She hums the familiar tune of the intro.
“Wow.” I whistle. “Before this, I never knew anyone who had even heard of them.”
“I know what you mean. They’re not very well known. Indies don’t tend to get a lot of air time. It’s a shame because they’re a national treasure,” she says excitedly. “I saw them live in Oakland a few years back, and it was the most awesome show I’ve ever been to.”
We sing along together for a little while, and my heart soars to find this connection to her. I’ve never had the time to go see a live band like that—always too much work to do, too much to think about. It would be amazing to go and see them live with Tessa.
Maybe one day. If I can talk her out of this stupid annulment shit.
The earlier tensions melt away and we spend the rest of the drive singing our hearts out and just having an all-around awesome time. Once again, I find myself forgetting everything when I’m with her. Just living in the moment, letting go of all the usual shit I have to deal with.
Stop. She doesn’t want you. Don’t forget that, because you’ll be the one to get hurt in the end, Luke.
We arrive at her place—one of the many identical apartment buildings around here. Tiny, boxy little places.
I want to tell her that I can buy her a place somewhere nicer, but resist the temptation. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m arrogantly throwing my money around.
We awkwardly stand at the entrance to the building for a few moments.
“Thanks for the ride,” she eventually says. “And the lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
She makes to leave, but I block her path. “I can let you go up there alone,” I say cheekily. “I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
Tessa stares at me like I’ve sprouted an extra head. “It’s not like I live in the ghetto. And it’s the middle of the day. What, am I going to get accosted by a rogue door-to-door salesman?”
“My honor demands it, m’lady,” I say with an exaggerated bow. “I will escort you to your door like a true gentleman.”
She shakes her head in resignation, a small smile curving her lips ever-so-slightly, and pushes open the door.
We walk up the stairwell, and I try my best to pay attention to her words and not simply get mesmerized by her utterly stunning ass.
She talks over her shoulder. “I’ve only just moved in so it’s a little messy, I’m warning you now. Don’t judge me, alright?”
We get there and enter her apartment.
The greying wall-to-wall carpet looks like it used to be beige once upon a time. Particleboard furniture are scattered haphazardly in the small living room, along with brown boxes with labels that say things like “winter clothes” and “kitchen stuff.”
It’s a habitable space, I guess. But to be honest, it’s also kind of dumpy.
