He stops walking suddenly and grabs her arm, “Can we go somewhere to talk? Somewhere inside?” he says.
She can no longer feel her feet, and her nose is beginning to run so she nods reluctantly and then follows him to 75 Chestnut, a restaurant on the street with the same name. They find a table in the back and when the waitress comes to take their order, she says, “Nothing for me,” with a gesture toward Nick.
He shakes his head, overriding her decision, ordering two spiced ciders.
“Just tell me, Nick,” she says when the waitress is gone. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m thinking a lot of things,” he says, scratching his jaw, covered with several days of growth.
“ Like?”
“I’m thinking that I’m crazy about you.”
Her heart jumps as he continues, now leaning across the narrow table, their faces inches apart.
“I’m thinking that I love the way you look and feel and taste. I love the sound of your voice and the way you look at me with those eyes . . . I’m thinking that I love the way you are with Charlie. The way you are”
“Maybe it’s just physical?” she calmly offers, pretending not to be deeply moved by his words.
“No,” he says, shaking his head adamantly. “It’s not a physical thing. It’s not a crush. It’s nothing like that. I love you, Val. It’s the truth. And I’m afraid it will always be true.”
She now has her answer, the word afraid giving him away. He loves her but wishes he didn’t. He wants her but can’t have her. This is his decision. She feels herself collapse inside as the waitress returns with their cider. She wraps her hands around the warm mug, inhaling the rnusky apple scent as he continues, almost as if talking to himself. “I know the moment it happened. The night we went to Antonio’s and you told me Charlie had no father.”
“Is that why?” she asks, doing her best to stay calm, strip any bitterness from her voice. “Is this a savior thing? You saved Charlie—and you wanted to save me, too?”
“I’ve considered that,” he says, and the fact that he doesn’t automatically refute it gives his answer more credence.
“I’ve thought about that—just as I’ve wondered whether that is your attraction to me.” He takes a long sip and then finishes, “But I know that’s not it. Not entirely anyway.”
“That’s not it for me, either,” she says, the closest she’s come to admitting that she loves him, too. “I don’t need to be saved.”
“I know you don’t need to be saved, Val. You don’t need anybody—you are the strongest person I know.”
She forces a smile as if to prove his theory right—even though she doesn’t believe it herself.
“You don’t think you’re strong,” he says, as if reading her mind. “And the fact that you think you’re barely keeping it together . . . is so ... is so ... I don’t know, Val. It’s just another thing I love about you. You’re strong and vulnerable, at once.”
He leans toward her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She shivers and says, “But?” She knows there is a but—that there has always been a but.
“But... I can’t. . .” His voice cracks. “I can’t do this . . .”
“Okay,” she says, taking this as his final word, seeing no reason for a belabored discussion on why he can’t do it.
“Don’t ‘okay’ me, Val,” he says. “Don’t let me off the hook this easily.
“There is no hook.”
“I don’t mean ‘hook’ like that . . . I just mean . . . I just mean that I made a mistake by going down this road with you. I thought that iF I felt this way about you—that it would make what we were doing okay. That I could separate myself from the men who have affairs for all the wrong reasons . . . But then Tessa carne home from New York . . . and . . . I can’t carve out this exception for myself. For us. Not without impacting everyone around me. My kids . . . Charlie . . .”
“And your wife,” she finishes for him.
He nods sadly and says, “And Tessa, yes... Things are not great with us right now. And I’m not sure what the future holds . . . But I respect her. And I still care deeply for her . . . And unless I’m ready to throw all of that away, all of those years, and the home and family we built. . . unless I’m ready to do that right now” he says, tapping the table, “today, at this very second, then I can’t be with you. It’s Just not right, as much as I want it to be. It’s just not.”
She bites her lip and nods as tears sting at her eyes.
“Believe me, Val, I’ve looked at this from every angle. I’ve tried to find a way to do the one thing I want to do . . . which is to take you back to your bed right now . . . hold you, make love to you . . . just be with you.”