We’re in the car on the way to my mom and Chris’s place. The only sound in the car is the radio. It’s not too loud. If we speak, we can hear each other, but neither one of us is saying anything.

I don’t know what to expect from the night ahead. My mom knows Keagan and I slept together. I told Keagan, but I don’t know how she will act toward us.

I also don’t know what to do around Keagan in front of Chris. As a result, I’ve shut off from Keagan completely. I would rather Chris think we hate each other than that something is going on between us. I know it’s not the best way to handle it, but to be honest, this is all new territory to me.

“What do you think Susan will do?” Keagan asks, speaking for the first time. His mind is obviously on the same thing.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I think she’ll be normal. At least, her version of it. You know how she is.”

Keagan nods. It took him a while to get used to her in the beginning, but Chris and my mom have been married for a long time now. Keagan has gotten used to her eccentricities.

“I’m worried about Chris,” I say. “I don’t know how to act in front of him. My mom saw right through me the moment we spoke.”

Keagan shakes his head. “He’s not as sharp as Susan is. His mind might be on the football game tonight or whatever. I’m not worried about him finding out.”

I’m not sure if Keagan is right to seem so relaxed about it. His words were confident, but he looks tense, and I know it isn’t from work. The evening is going to be strange.

My mom and Chris moved into an apartment above the art studio after Keagan and I moved out, not needing so many extra rooms anymore. The Art District consist of buildings dating back to the early twentieth century. They’ve all been restored, and art has crept in many forms to the faces of the buildings. From meaningless graffiti to the wall art that takes your breath away, the Art District has a feel of its own.

It’s not my favorite place to be. I’ve always been unsure among the buildings that threaten to spell out doom, but Keagan is with me and we’ll be fine.

When we park in front of the Studio, I get out and walk through the door that leads upstairs to the apartment above. My mom opens the door and throws her arms around me when she sees me.

“How are you, honey?” she asks.

I force a smile. “Good, thank you.”

My mom puts her hand on my cheek and gives me a knowing smile that I don’t like. She’s wearing leggings and layers of material over it that make her look exotic. A broad headband is wrapped around her hair, and she’s wearing all her rings so she looks a little bit like a fortune teller, not an artist.

Keagan becomes up behind me, and my mom gives him the same warm welcome.

“There you are,” she says when she finally releases him from a hug. “The man of the hour.”

Keagan glances at me. I shake my head almost imperceptibly at him. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

“You made it,” Chris says when he comes into the room. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and the contrast between him and my mom is strak. I hug Chris, and Keagan shakes his dad’s hand.

When we’re around the dinner table, I sit opposite Keagan on purpose. I don’t want to risk anything. My mom is in a good mood. She chatters away about her art, and it’s easy to switch off and do nothing but nod and gasp in the right places. Chris eats fast, and he’s done first.

“So, Keagan,” Chris says. “Work is going well, eh? I tried that app of yours.”

“And?” Keagan asks, looking up from his plate.

He has broccoli speared on his fork. I’ve finished all mine. I notice he’s pushed all his to the side. Some things never change.

Chris wrinkles his nose. “It’s not my kind of thing, I think. I don’t like it.”

“You’re not exactly my target market,” Keagan says. “The app is doing really well.”

Chris nods. “I’m sure it is. You’re bringing in quite a lot of cash. Now, you just need to find someone to spend it on.”

I glance at Chris. He’s smiling. I don’t like where this is going.

“I think I can find enough things to do with my money,” Keagan says tightly. He has a feeling, too.

“When are you going to bring back a woman, Keagan? And introduce us to the future mother of your children? You’re almost thirty, man.”

Keagan raises his eyebrows. I notice my mom is staring at me. I try to ignore her.

“Shouldn’t Susan be the one to tell me how much time I’m wasting not producing grandchildren?” Keagan asks.

It’s not an answer. I guess his day in front of the press has made him good at answering things without really saying anything.

Chris shrugs. “I’m just saying, since that Liz woman, you’ve never brought anyone home again. I don’t want you single for life, son. It’s no way to live.”

Keagan shakes his head. “I think I can decide which way I want to live,” he says.

The double meaning isn’t lost on me. Keagan’s eyes are on me. I feel them burning on my skin. I don’t want to look up at him. I don’t want to hear any more of this.

“How’s your job search going, Dana?” Chris asks, changing the topic.

I can almost feel Keagan relax. This, I can handle. Chris isn’t nearly as hard on me as he is on Keagan, and it only takes a few short answers before he’s satisfied.

“I’m going outside for a smoke,” Chris says when the food is finished.

“I’m getting dessert ready,” my mom says and stands up, too. “Dana, will you help me?”

I nod and get up. Keagan starts clearing the table while my mom and I walk to the kitchen.

“What’s up with Chris tonight?” I ask when we’re in the kitchen and I know Chris isn’t within earshot.

“He’s in a bad mood,” my mom says. “We lost a client today. It’s not a big deal, but you know how he gets.”

I nod. I know exactly how he gets. For all my mom’s eccentricities, she’s stable. Chris has mood swings, and his bad moods are annoying at best.

“I’m sorry about the conversation,” my mom says.

She takes a fruit parfait out of the freezer and hands me a stack of bowls and spoons.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say.

Keagan comes in behind me with the dirty plates and packs them in the dishwasher.

“Sometimes Chris just doesn’t let things go. Don’t let him get to the two of you. You’re beautiful together.”

Keagan looks up at me. I don’t know what to say.

“Mom!” I say.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says. “Really. I know it’s weird for you, but I can’t be happier.” She looks at Keagan. “Really.”

He shrugs, not knowing what to say. It’s awkward in the kitchen.

“I just wish you guys could do whatever you wanted without all the public scrutiny,” my mom says.

I chuckle. “Drop it, Mom. It’s not necessary to worry about it. It won’t ever come to that, anyway.”

“Won’t come to what?” Chris asks, walking into the kitchen.

I shake my head. “Me having to change careers. I’ll find one as a designer. I’m sure.”

The topic change is smooth enough for Chris to buy it. When I look at Keagan, relieved that I dodged a bullet, he’s staring at me with a strange expression on his face.

“I’m taking this to the table,” I say and leave the kitchen.

The night is turning out to be a disaster. I make a mental note to ask my mom to warn us about Chris’s moods in future.

I set out the bowls and spoons. In a minute, we’re all around the dining room table again. My mom dishes parfait, and I put in the spoons and pass the bowls along. When I hand Keagan his bowl, he mumbles thanks without looking at me.

What’s up with him?

The conversation turns to lighter things. Chris seems to be cheering up, and he’s laughing and joking again. The atmosphere is lighter, and I’m not so stressed about what might, or might not, show.

Keagan is sullen. He doesn’t speak much. He barely laughs at our silly jokes, and when he can’t get away without saying anything at all, his answers are short and blunt. It’s like he’s sulking. It’s not hard to see how much like Chris he can be.

When dinner is finally over and we’ve had our coffee afterward, it’s time to leave. I can’t be happier to get away. I want to go back to Keagan’s apartment where we can be alone without scrutiny and do whatever we want to.

I want to be alone with him. I want him to pay attention to me, to touch me, to kiss me. I want him. The night has been weird, and his distance has increased to the point where even I am starting to believe our act of not being involved. And I don’t like it.

In the car on the way back, Keagan doesn’t cheer up.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him. “Why are you so down?”

Keagan shrugs.

“My mom was okay, right? I don’t think she’s pushing it too hard. I mean, she’s hiding it from Chris, which is big of her.”

Keagan nods. I don’t know why he’s being so distant.

“Don’t you want to talk about it?” I ask.

Keagan shakes his head. “There’s not really anything to talk about is there?” he says, and his tone is a little bitter. “It won’t ever come to that.”

I try to figure out what he’s saying. I realize he’s quoting what I said about us in the kitchen.

“Are you mad at me?” I ask.

Keagan sighs. “I can’t be mad at you for what you want. Or don’t want. I’m just...disappointed.”

I shake my head. I don’t understand. “Disappointed about what?” I ask.

Keagan takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, as if he’s trying to control himself.

“I thought we were still going to talk about it. I didn’t know that you’ve decided you don’t want this to be any more than it is.”

I frown. “I thought we decided on it together? For the sake of your company and the public image and everything?”

Keagan sighs again. “I just thought that we would revisit it. I didn’t realize it was set in stone.”

I’m getting irritated with him. “I don’t think it’s fair of you to hold me to something I said to my mom so that she would get off our backs. I thought you were annoyed with how she was acting. I thought I was helping.”

Keagan glances at me. “It’s just hard, okay?”

“It’s hard? Do you think it’s any easier for me, hearing Chris refer to Liz like she was some kind of gift in your life? Or talk about how you need to settle down when I know that he’ll never accept me as your other half?”

Keagan turns his head to me, frowning. “Is that something you want? Is that where you want this to go?”

I realize I’ve talked myself into a corner, and I don’t want to go there. This is too much for me.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t know how else to defend us. I was doing what you were doing. Pretending everything is fine.”

It looks like I’m also good at answering questions without saying anything.

We fall silent again. There’s nothing left to say. We arrive home and ride the elevator to Keagan’s floor. He unlocks and locks up again behind us. He marches to his bedroom and closes the door firmly behind him without saying goodnight.

I walk to my room, feeling emotionally drained. I knew that this wouldn’t be easy when I decided to follow through with this, but I didn’t realize this was what it would be like. I thought the one thing we had down was communication.

I close my door and get undressed, pulling my oversized shirt over my head. I put on panties and crawl into bed. I close my eyes and try to fall asleep as the apartment settles down around us, but I can’t.