“We were in Vegas, Ev. Shit happens.”
I shut my mouth.
“I don’t mean …” He wiped a hand across his face. “Fuck. Look, don’t think it was just all drinking and partying and that’s the only reason anything happened. Why we happened. I wouldn’t want you to think that.”
I flailed. It seemed the only proper response. “But that’s what I do think. That’s exactly what I think. That’s the only way this fits together in my head. When a girl like me wakes up married to a guy like you, what else can she possibly think? God, David, look at you. You’re beautiful, rich, and successful. Your brother was right, this makes no sense.”
He turned on me, face tight. “Don’t do that. Don’t run yourself down like that.”
I just sighed.
“I’m serious. Don’t you ever give what that asshole said another thought, understood? You are not nothing.”
“Then give me something. Tell me what it was like between us that night.”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. “Nah. I don’t want to dredge it all up, you know, water under the bridge or whatever. I just don’t want you thinking that the whole night was some alcohol-fueled frenzy or something, that’s all. Honestly, you didn’t even seem that drunk most of it.”
“David, you’re hedging. Come on. It’s not fair that you remember and I don’t.”
“No,” he said, his voice hard, cold, in a way I hadn’t heard it. He loomed over me, jaw set. “It’s not fair that I remember and you don’t, Evelyn.”
I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m going out.” True to his word, he stormed out the door. Heavy footsteps thumped along the hallway and back down the stairs. I stood staring after him.
*
I gave him a while to cool off then followed him out onto the beach. The morning light was blinding, clear blue skies all the way. It was beautiful. Salty sea air cleared my head a little. David’s words raised more questions than they answered. Puzzling that night out consumed my thoughts. I’d reached two conclusions. Both worried me. The first was that the night in Vegas was special to him. My prying or trivializing the experience upset him. The second was, I suspected, he hadn’t been all that drunk. It sounded like he knew exactly what he was doing. In which case, how the hell must he have felt the next morning? I’d rejected him and our marriage out of hand. He must have been heart-sore, humiliated.
There’d been good reasons for my behavior. I'd still, however, been incredibly thoughtless. I didn’t know David then. But I was beginning to now. And the more we talked, the more I liked him.
David sat on the rocks with a beer in hand, staring out to sea. A cool ocean wind tossed his long hair about. The fabric of his T-shirt was drawn tight across his broad back. He had his knees drawn up with an arm wrapped around them. It made him seem younger than he was, more vulnerable.
“Hi,” I said, squatting beside him.
“Hey.” Eyes squinted against the sun, he looked up at me, face guarded.
“I’m sorry for pushing.”
He nodded, stared back out at the water. “S’okay.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Are we still friends?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Sure.”
I sat down next to him, trying to figure out what to say next, what would set things right between us. Nothing I could think of saying was going to make up for Vegas. I needed more time with him. The ticking clock of the annulment papers grew louder by the minute. It unnerved me, thinking our time would be cut short. That it would soon all be over and I wouldn’t see or talk to him again. That I wouldn’t get to figure out the puzzle that was us. My skin grew goose pimples from more than the wind.
“Shit. You’re cold,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer against him.
And I got closer, happily. “Thanks.”
He put down the beer bottle, wrapping both arms around me. “Should probably get you inside.”
“In a bit.” My thumbs rubbed over my fingers, fidgeting. “Thank you for bringing me here. It’s a lovely place.”
“Mm.”
“David, really, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey.” He put a finger beneath my chin, raising it. The anger and hurt was gone, replaced by kindness. He gave me one of his little shrugs. “Let’s just let it go.”
The idea actually sent me into a panic. I didn’t want to let go of him. The knowledge was startling. I stared up at him, letting it sink in. “I don’t want to.”
He blinked. “Alright. You want to make it up to me?”
I doubted we were talking about the same thing, but I nodded anyway.
“I’ve got an idea.”
“Shoot.”
“Different things can jog your memory, right?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“So if I kiss you, you might remember what we were like together.”
I stopped breathing. “You want to kiss me?”
“You don’t want me to kiss you?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m okay with you kissing me.”
He bit back a smile. “That’s very kind of you.”
“And this kiss is for the purposes of scientific research?”
“Yep. You want to know what happened that night and I don’t really want to talk about it. So, I figure, easier all round if you can maybe remember some of it yourself.”
“That makes sense.”
“Excellent.”
“How far did we go that night?”
His gaze dropped to the neck of my tank top and the curves of my breasts. “Second base.”
“Shirt on?”
“Off. We were both topless. Topless cuddles are best.” He watched as I absorbed the information, his face close to mine.
“Bra?”
“Absolutely not.”