“Oh.”
Dave kept his eyes closed, so he couldn’t tell what Julia was doing, just that less and less of her was making contact with his skin. Her weight shifted around the mattress until it felt like she was sitting on the corner of it. “In what way is she on your mind?”
“I don’t know. She’s just there.”
“Do you feel bad for her?”
“Yeah.”
Her hand landed on his thigh, soft and warm, reassuring. “You’ve got a good heart, Dave. It’s okay if you feel bad.” He felt her scoot back toward him, and he opened his eyes. She put her arms around his neck. “I wish it had happened some other way, too. But I’m glad you’re with me.” Leaning in, she kissed him. “You have a good heart, Dave. I wouldn’t love you as much as I do if it weren’t for that.”
Dave managed a smile, but the feeling that something was off hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was more acute, like he was just about to figure out exactly what it meant. “She wrote me an e-mail this week,” he said. Julia pulled her arms back, and he folded his hands in his lap, not knowing what else to do with them. “And I’ve been thinking about something she said.”
Julia got off from the bed and started to pace. She sat back against his desk, her hands leaning on it for support, her jaw clenched. “Yeah? What’d she say?”
“It was actually a nice e-mail. She said she wished I was happy even if it’s not with her.”
Julia relaxed, but she stayed away from the bed. “Okay.”
“She also said that we can’t choose who we love. The way she said it was, ‘Your heart’s an asshole for choosing someone else. But that’s not really your choice to make.’” He sat up a little, crossing his legs in front of him. “What I’ve been wondering is...” He paused, trying to figure out the right way to phrase it. If there was a right way. If he even knew exactly what he wanted to say. The wind blew stronger outside, and the branches of the jacaranda scraped against his window with a squeak.
“Just say it, dammit.”
“Calm down, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“Oh, you don’t know?” Julia rolled her eyes. “Where the hell is this coming from?”
“Where’s what coming from? I haven’t said anything.”
“You’re thinking you chose wrong, Dave. You can stammer all you want, but that’s what you were going to say.” Dave exhaled, wanting to deny it. Then he looked down at his tangled sheets, the dimples in the pillow where Julia’s head had been just a moment ago. “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me that’s not what you’ve been thinking.”
Dave couldn’t say anything, though. He was trying to find the words, but they were like the earphones on his desk, a whole bunch of them tangled together. Even if he managed to unravel them, he didn’t know how much use they could be.
Julia started pacing again. She turned the corner from his room and went into the bathroom, that signature pitter-patter of her bare feet on tile. When she came back he could see the tears forming in her eyes. He expected her to yell. To force him to say something. To force him to figure out what was going on. But she took a seat on the bed in front of him and she brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them and tucking them close. She didn’t look away from him.
“I don’t think I chose wrong,” Dave finally said, weakly. “I don’t know if I made a choice at all.”
“So, what, then? What are you saying?”
“It’s not just Gretchen,” Dave said. “Haven’t things been a little... I don’t know.”
“Dave, you say you don’t know one more time, I’m going to throw a dictionary at you.”