~Chase~
“Happy Friday,” the short brunette says next to me and holds her glass up to clink with mine. I oblige her and then switch seats, walking down to the far end of Kat’s bar. I came alone and I intend to leave alone.
Not that the brunette holds any interest for me.
“You don’t look so great,” Kat says as she refills my glass. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
My gaze whips up to hers and she offers me a sympathetic smile. “Heartbreak is written all over your face.”
“Almost two weeks,” I reply and sip my wine. “I’m not heartbroken.”
“No?”
“No. It didn’t work out.” I shrug, like it’s no big deal.
“What happened?”
“I think it started to get too serious for both of us.”
“You discovered a connection between you that wasn’t just sexual chemistry?”
“Yeah.” I nod, remembering that night in my living room. “We have a lot in common.”
“So you played the game for a while, and then discovered that you have a connection.”
“I didn’t play a fucking game,” I reply, immediately pissed.
“What do you call it? Pledging not to have sex again, then conveniently forgetting something at the other’s house. I think it’s a fun, sexy game, as long as everyone’s on the same page.”
“It wasn’t intentional,” I reply. “But yes, it was damn sexy. More than I expected or even imagined.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“She’s not interested in more,” I reply. “She couldn’t get out of my place fast enough the following morning. It was like the hounds of hell were on her heels.”
“She panicked.”
“Big time. And I’m not going to say that I didn’t. After she fell asleep, I overthought about it all night. I wanted to talk to her the next day, but as soon as she woke up, she ran.”
“Did you try to talk to her?”
“No, she couldn’t wait to leave. So, I made her coffee and watched her walk out my door.”
“You’re two people who don’t trust relationships,” Kat says and waves at Mac, who just walked into the bar and immediately got pulled into a conversation with a client.
“I trust her.”
“That’s probably new for you.”
I nod again. “Yeah, well, I don’t meet a lot of trustworthy women. I’m not interested in a long-term relationship, anyway.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
Kat frowns and blinks rapidly, as if I just told her that I don’t like wine.
“But you’re interested in her.”
“It doesn’t matter, Kat. I’ll never be like my parents,” I say before I can stop myself and Kat’s eyebrows climb up into her hairline. “I’m not willing to be addicted to anyone. To be consumed by them so completely that it’s all I think about. To let someone destroy me financially and emotionally isn’t an option for me.”
“Whoa,” she says, holding her hands up. “Stop right there. Who said that all relationships are like that?”
“I just—”
“I’m not done. Being in love with someone, loving someone, isn’t the same as being codependent. Yes, you do need to be vulnerable to another person, to let them in, to trust them with your feelings and your heart.”
“Not going there.”
“That’s really sad,” she says and her eyes well with tears. “I’m sad for you, Chase, to never have the experience of falling in love, to only allow yourself to enjoy the physical pleasures of a woman, but nothing more than that.”
“I’m fine, and you have romance on the brain thanks to my charming brother.”
“Romance is only a piece of it,” she says, shaking her head. “The biggest thing for me is the day-to-day. Sleeping, and I do mean sleeping, together. Planning trips. Sharing news stories. He brings me coffee in bed every morning. I rub his scalp as we binge-watch TV shows. Yes, the sex is great, but it’s so much more than that. He’s my partner in every way, and now that he’s a part of my life, I can’t really remember what it was like before him.”
“That’s wonderful, and I mean that.” I reach over the bar and squeeze her hand. “I love that he’s found that with you. I’m just not convinced that it’s for me.”
“Let me ask you something, and you have to be brutally honest with me.”
Truth or Dare.
“Okay.”
“Since the last time you saw Maura, have you thought of her even once?”
Only every minute of every day.
“Yes.”
“More than once?”
I smile. “I think of her often.”
“Then you should call her,” Kat says and wipes the bar down with a white towel. “It’s worth it, Chase. The vulnerability. The trust. It’s all worth it.”
“What if we both do all of that, and in the end it still doesn’t work out?”
“There are no guarantees in life, my friend. It might implode inside of a week, or you might die together when you’re ninety-eight. We don’t know.” She shrugs and smiles as Mac joins us, sitting on the stool next to mine. “But I wouldn’t trade a single minute I’ve had with your brother for anything.”
Mac frowns and looks back and forth between Kat and me. “Did you just hit on my wife?”
We both laugh, and Kat shakes her head. “No. I’m giving him advice.”
“Good, because he’s been brooding about like a sulky teenager for more than a week.”
“I have not.”
Mac rolls his eyes. “No one wants to talk to him because he snaps everyone’s heads off. So they’re all coming to me, and that’s just a pain in the ass because Chase is the people person, not me.”
“I haven’t snapped—” But before I finish I remember shouting at my assistant just this afternoon and take a sip of my wine instead.
“Yeah,” Mac says. “Exactly.”
“I just told him that he should talk to her,” Kat says.
“Is this group therapy now?” I ask.
“Kat’s smart,” Mac replies and smiles lovingly at his wife. “I don’t think she’s steered anyone wrong yet.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll think about it.” I stand and reach for my wallet, but Kat shakes her head.
“I’ve got this.”
“Thanks.”
“I didn’t mean to run you off,” Mac says. “Stay.”
“Nah, I’ve had my limit. Have a good night.”
Once I’m inside my house, I can’t sit still. I’ve avoided being home for anything other than sleep since that night with Maura. It’s just too fucking quiet without her.
And everywhere I look reminds me of her. My couch, the kitchen, my bed. Her laughter, her hands, the words she trusted me with.
“I miss her,” I mutter and push my hands through my hair. “I fucking miss her.”
* * * *
“Are you looking for a gift?”
I turn to find a saleswoman standing behind me in a department store the next morning. I’m in the makeup section.
“Yes,” I reply. “I was looking for a simple tube of lipstick, but you have about five hundred of them.”
“Yeah, beauty is way more involved than men give it credit for. What does she look like?”
“Who?”
“The girl you’re buying a gift for.”
“Oh. I suppose fucking gorgeous isn’t descriptive enough?”
“It’s sweet, but no.” She smiles and taps her finger on her lips. “I know, I’m going to sell you a tube of red. There’s a new blue-red that works with just about any skin tone, and most women need a good red in their makeup bag.”
“Great.” I nod, already completely overwhelmed by colors and smells, and I’m ready to get the hell out of here.
Five minutes later, I’m in my car and I snap a photo of the black tube and send it to Maura.
You forgot this at my house.
There. It’s out there. If she responds, great. If she doesn’t, I need to move the hell on with my life.