“Thanks for meeting me here,” I say.

“No problem,” Jake says as he sits down across the booth. “Tired of the chai?” he asks and I have to laugh.

We’re back at Brew Madison and not the café closer to Jake’s place.

“No, it’s just that Jules, my friend who I’m staying with for a bit, wanted to meet across the street after we’re done, so I asked her driver take me here.”

“Ah, gotcha. What are you guys doing?” he asks as he looks up at the menu across the black wall. It’s a large black chalkboard with all their drinks written in pretty flowing script. I’m pretty sure it’s not actually handwritten. But I could be wrong.

“The chai is better at your place,” I tell him and pick up my caffeine-free pumpkin spice coffee. Apparently Maddie’s tastes have rubbed off on me. Either that or the baby has ruined my taste buds.

He chuckles as I take a large gulp and then tell him, “I think we’re just getting dinner at a little Italian place. Or maybe heading to the new bar below the hotel a few blocks over.” I shrug and add, “She hasn’t decided yet.”

He lays his coat over the back of his chair as he stands. “I’m going to go with straight black coffee I think.”

“Oh?” I ask him. “Is it one of those days?”

“You tell me,” he responds and instantly my smile falls. It’s been a week since Henry died and each day is worse than “one of those days.” They blur together and time has flown by, but it’s really been a week.

“Give me a sec?” he asks me, gripping the back of the chair. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

My fingers play at the edge of my coffee cup. I wore lipstick today and the outline of my lips mars the white rim of the cup.

There’s a statistic I read once about how lipstick sales and alcohol sales both go up in depressions, while sales for everything else plummet.

The alcohol … well, you drink when you’re happy and you drink when you’re sad.

But the lipstick is because in hard times, we just want to feel special, pretty. We want to feel like we’re worth it. As in, if we look pretty and put together, then maybe we can be.

I need to buy more lipstick, I think.

“So what’s going on?”

“Wow, that was fast,” I say to prolong my answer.

“I’d rate them an A plus for the service. I have to admit that,” he answers with a pleasant smile.

I give him a soft one in return, but I can feel myself breaking down.

“Evan’s father died.” As I say the words quickly, to get them out of me, my face crumples.

“Shit,” I hear Jake say beneath his breath as I try to keep my composure. “It’s alright,” he tells me.

“I’m fine,” I say in a choked voice, refusing to cry again. “I’m dealing with it. It’s not the first time I’ve lost a family member, but it still hurts.”

“What happened?”

“It was sudden. He had a blood clot that traveled to his lungs.” I remember the voice of the doctor and how calmly he spoke as I pick up a napkin off the table and blot under my eyes. As I blink, my lashes hit the napkin and it comes back black.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” I tell him, flipping the napkin to the other side and being careful not to smudge my makeup too much.

“Don’t be.” It’s only then that I realize how close he is. He’s so warm. “Evan,” I blurt out his name as my tired eyes feel heavy and the need to be held makes my body hot. My fingers itch to lay across Jake’s lap. “I tried to call him and got his voicemail.”

“About his father?” Jake asks and I find myself leaning closer to him. Jake doesn’t let on that there’s any more tension between us than usual. But the air between us has shifted. It’s something closer and vulnerable. Something I should be wary of, but I need it. God, I need it.

I nod once, twisting the little shreds of the napkin I’m destroying in my lap. “I’m who the doctor called.” I get choked up again, thinking about how I was listed as his daughter in Henry’s phone.

“And Evan?”

“He didn’t answer.”

Jake backs away from me and seems to question whether or not he wants to respond.

He takes in a heavy breath as if he’s going to, but takes a long sip of coffee instead. I watch his face as he stares straight ahead.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be talking about this. I just-”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, Kat.” Jake turns his head and stares deep into my eyes as he tells me, “You have nothing to be sorry for, and I don’t understand why anyone would make you feel like you do.”

My breath comes in shorter bursts, my heart beating faster. But all I can think about is how I wish Evan would say those words to me.

My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I reply, “I am sorry though.” I don’t know what else to say. It’s just how I feel.

“Well I’m sorry too. I’m sorry about your father-in-law. And I’m sorry your ex isn’t there for you. I’m sure he’s going through shit, but it doesn’t seem right that he’s ignoring you like that. He’s got to know it hurts.”

“He doesn’t feel like my ex most of the time,” I admit to Jake with my eyes focused on my fingers as I continue to shred the napkin.

I’m anxious for Jake’s response. I just want someone to understand and I feel like Jake can. Even if he can’t, I don’t think he’ll judge me. I hope he won’t.

“I mean, you’ve been married for years, right?” I nod at his question and continue to. “And you only just split?” I nod again to confirm.

“You’re going through a lot, and he’s not even talking to you. I don’t get this guy. I wouldn’t throw you away like that.”

“I don’t think he’s throwing me away so much as putting me into a corner while he tries to … ” I let out an uneasy sigh.

“I read in the papers about what he’s got going on,” Jake says and I’m forced to look at him, my heart beating slowly as I wait for his judgment. “I don’t get how the two of you fit together, honestly.”

“We have more in common than you’d think,” I answer him.

“Still have? Or had?” he asks me. And then shakes his head. “Tell me to fuck off if you want,” he says then closes his eyes and takes a quick sip of coffee. “I’m only here if you want to talk. And if I cross a line-”

“You’re not crossing any line,” I tell him and find myself reaching out, letting my hand fall on top of his. Mostly for fear of him backing away and leaving me with nothing again. “I don’t talk to anyone else really.” The plea is unsaid, but Jake hears it.

His eyes assess me and stay on mine as he says, “I don’t want you to get upset with me because of an opinion I have, when I only know a small fraction of the truth. I know the past goes deeper than that.”

It’s small kindnesses that kill the pain. The tiny bits break down walls, making them crumble all because it hits at just the right spot, at just the right time.

“Just don’t hate me for still loving him,” I whisper to him.

“I think you still have feelings for him because you haven’t let anyone else in,” he offers and leans just a bit closer to me.

If Evan would give me just a little, I wouldn’t be here. But he won’t even text me. It’s truly over.

The thought flies through my mind as Jake leans forward a bit more, his gorgeous green eyes focused on my lips.

If Evan would comfort me or let me comfort him, I wouldn’t have even called Jake, I think as I close my eyes and breathe in the masculine scent of Jake’s cologne. The deep forest fragrance fills my lungs as he gently presses his lips against mine.

If Evan really wanted me, if he cared about me … the thought is lost as my hands move to Jake’s hair, my fingers spearing through it as my mouth parts and Jake deepens the kiss.

The problem is that when my eyes are closed, I picture Evan. It’s his fingers that thread through my hair and cup the back of my head. It’s his lips pressed against mine.

The problem is when I open my eyes, it’s not Evan. No matter how much I want it to be.

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Diary Entry 3

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Hey Mom,

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I really could use you today.

I think Evan hates me maybe. Or he’s not the person I thought he was. His father passed away and I went to him. Because I love him even though he’s doing all this stupid shit and choosing it over me. But he didn’t want me. Not even at the funeral. He hardly looked at me.

Mom, I think he blames me in some way. Or there’s something there. I don’t understand it. I’m so hurt. I can’t describe how it feels because hurt just doesn’t do it justice. It’s an emptiness I don’t know how to fill.

I love him so much, but I just cried alone in the car at the funeral. He didn’t hold me. He didn’t talk to me. He just hugged me like he hugged everyone else. Like I was no one special.

I thought for a second he would let me cry in his arms. Or that he would cry in my arms like he did when his mom died. But he didn’t. He just left.

There’s something else too. Something that you might not like. Or I don’t know, maybe you’ll like it now that you know what Evan did.

I kissed someone else.

I can’t help feeling like I’m cheating on Evan.

But if Evan doesn’t want me, it’s okay, right? It doesn’t feel okay. Separated or divorced, I still love Evan. Even when he treats me like shit.

This guy, his name’s Jake, he treats me like he cares about me. Not that we’ve done anything really. I don’t even know him. I think I want to though. And that scares me.

My heart belongs to Evan, but there’s someone else who wants to take it.

And seeing Evan at the funeral is what broke me.

I don’t know what to do.

I feel like I tell you that a lot. But for the first time, I want to do something. I’m ready for something to change.