I nod. “Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He leaves the bathroom, and I listen as his footsteps continue down the stairs and across the hardwood foyer. When the door shuts, I release my breath. As the garage door rumbles open beneath my feet, I lean over the counter, holding on to its cool faux marble edge for balance.
I need to get my head together. I have no business feeling like this. Michael went on a date last night, and there is nothing in the world I want more than to hear that it was perfect. I hope like hell that I get a text from him before lunch. Something like, Can’t make it. Long night. ;)
I hope and pray he spent the night with Dr. Klein, and the two of them are still lying there and enjoying each other’s company. He wasted enough of his life with a man who caused him to call in sick too many times because of ER visits. He deserves nothing less than someone who makes him call in sick because they can’t get enough of each other.
And somehow, for the sake of my friendship, my marriage, and my own sanity, I have got to get rid of this sudden jealous bone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So how did it go?”
Across the booth at our usual restaurant, Michael doesn’t answer. He’s not looking me in the eye, and he’s not touching the food that showed up a couple of minutes ago.
My pulse ratchets up—it’s a struggle not to prod him, and at the same time, I’m afraid to hear the truth. With everything Michael’s been through, I hope to God it was only a disappointing first date. Maybe Dr. Klein was less attractive without the stethoscope around his neck, or he had some heinous political views, or he turned out to be estranged from his toothbrush. Maybe he ordered veal at dinner—that would be a one-way ticket to Nopeville in Michael’s book.
I nibble on a fry, mostly because I need to do something besides sit here and stare him down. He seems uncomfortable enough without my scrutiny.
Then, releasing a breath, Michael pushes his untouched plate away. “Well, the date went fine. I had a pretty good time, and I think he did too.” A smile tries to work its way onto his lips. “Ben’s an awesome guy.”
“You don’t sound happy, though.” My chest tightens—please, please, don’t let him say it went that kind of wrong.
Michael’s eyes lose focus. “It seemed like it was going okay. We had dinner, and then we went to a comedy club. After that, he took me back to my car.” He releases a long breath. “And he kissed me.”
I can’t breathe. Klein, if you did anything to fuck with him… “What happened?”
Michael rests his elbow on the table and rubs his forehead. “God, it actually started even before that. The thing is, the whole night, I felt like something was missing. I wasn’t bored, but I wasn’t as into it as I thought I’d be. Like I couldn’t get into it even though I wanted to.” He drops his hand on the table and exhales. “I was on a date with Ben Klein, for God’s sake!”
I stare at him, completely at a loss for words.
Michael leans back against the cushion. “And then as soon as he kissed me, I got it. I figured out what was missing.”
“And that was…”
His eyes meet mine. “You and Ian.”
My heart stops. My mouth has gone dry, but I manage to choke out, “What?”
He flinches, looking out at something across the restaurant instead of at me. His voice is so soft, it’s almost timid as he murmurs, “As soon as he kissed me, all I could think of was the two of you.”
“But you’ve been wanting him for—”
“I know. And when I finally had a shot with him…” He laughs humorlessly. “All I could think of was how much I wanted to be with you and Ian. Because I—” His voice cracks.
I can’t even fit all this in my brain, never mind put my finger on what it means. All I know is the way I felt last night, and how I feel now looking at him. There are some pieces in my head threatening to come together, and I keep trying to push them apart because I have a feeling the big picture isn’t one that’ll help this situation. Even while I’m hurting for him because I know how much he wanted his date to work out, why is there…relief? Guilt? Shame? What the fuck?
“So, yeah.” Michael groans. “I fucking blew it. Because I…” He buries his face in both hands. “This must sound incredibly stupid.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Michael lowers his hands and searches my eyes. “Meaning?”
“Meaning…” I love you.
The thought hits me like a fist to the gut.
Oh shit. Oh. Shit.
I can’t. But I do.
Oh God. I do.
Staring at Michael, holding his gaze from across the table while he waits for me to tell him why his feelings aren’t as stupid as he thinks they are, everything I felt last night suddenly makes way too much sense.
Fuck.
I rub the back of my neck. “Maybe things got more complicated than we thought they would. For all of us.”
His eyebrow slowly rises.