...that I almost told you that I love you? I know that’s insane. But I’ve always been quick to love, and I’m actually surprised I held it in this long. I shouldn’t even be writing this e-mail. If my friends knew I was writing it, they’d yell at me, and I’ll probably yell at myself tomorrow. Unless I don’t get any sleep, as has been the case, and my mental state is even worse than it is at this moment.
You hurt me, Dave. You’re smart enough to know that. Part of me wants to rub it in your face, how much you hurt me. But the other part of me loves you enough to want to say this: It is not totally, completely, unequivocally your fault. Your heart is an asshole for choosing someone else. But I know that’s not a choice that’s yours to make.
Most days, most moments, I’m angry at you. But right now? This second? I hope you are happy. Even if it’s with her. I really do.
Someone in the TV show was yelling. A sliver of sunlight broke through the blinds and landed across Julia, right where her tank top had bunched up to expose the skin of her lower back. Dave tried to stop rereading the e-mail but couldn’t help himself. He’d take a look around the room, try to follow what was going on in the show, watch Julia. Then his thumb would slide across the screen of his phone again and he’d reread Gretchen’s words.
He fell asleep cuddled close to Julia, and when he woke up the room was no longer as warm, the day slept away. Julia was putting her shoes on, back in her school clothes. “The dads want me home for dinner,” she said. “Sorry I’m boring and fell asleep for so long.”
“Me too. I mean, I’m sorry I’m boring and fell asleep, too. Not that you’re boring. I don’t think sleeping with you is boring.”
Julia kneeled by the side of the bed, running her hand over Dave’s head. “I’m gonna let you keep rambling on until your foot is completely in your mouth.”
“I’m done now.”
“Tease.” She leaned over and kissed him. “I like this. Spending time with you this way.”
“Me too,” Dave said, and he reached for her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles, thinking about Gretchen’s e-mail, knowing he’d reread it again as soon as Julia was gone.
o o o
Later that night, Dave was wide awake, having napped too long to be tired. A text came in from Julia, who was in the same predicament.
I bet if we were still in the same bed we could fall asleep, she wrote. After a certain act or two.
You mean eating sandwiches, right?
Yup.
Dave played the next episode in the political drama, which he’d gotten hooked on after Julia left, despite not actually following most of what was going on. Which would you say is the sexiest sandwich?
Grilled cheese, probably.
Pfft, Dave wrote. Grilled cheese is a sandwich you settle down with, a sandwich that you would want raising your kids. I’m talking the kind of sandwich you want to stay up all night eating. The kind of sandwich you wouldn’t introduce to your dads but would tell all your friends about.
The three dots that meant Julia was typing stayed on for a while. He’d chosen her. That’s what he kept thinking. That he’d chosen her.
That was kind of hot.
What? The sandwich?
You, you goof.
Dave typed out a few responses, but none of them felt right. He put the phone down and turned his attention back to the TV, waiting for something else to come to mind. Almost fifteen minutes later, his phone buzzed again.
doing anything?
For some reason, the lack of capitalization, the fact that she’d sent only two words, it made him wonder if she was upset, if he’d said something wrong. It was ridiculous to think so, and Dave shook his head at the thought that he’d become the kind of person who overanalyzed the grammar in a text message for subtext. But ever since the beach, he’d been having trouble reading her, as if being physically close to her had muddled up how well he knew her. In bed with her, he’d found himself struggling to come up with things to say, settling instead on making her laugh some other way. Not really. TV. Thinking about sandwiches in ways I’ve never thought before.
Another five minutes passed before he added, You?
Trying to think of a way to convince you to be in an open relationship so I can keep seeing Marroney on the side.