One o'clock came and went as I scrambled to dress.
At 1:00 p.m. on any Friday in the past, I would be lounging in front of my computer, sipping coffee, and adding sentences to my latest novel. Now I was putting on a Brooks Brothers suit for the purposes of meeting a girl who thought I was a businessman.
Not even removing Bethany's stuff from the apartment had felt this vile.
I was beginning to really hate myself.
At twenty past, with my jacket slung over my shoulder, I jogged up the sidewalk to the Mediterranean deli. I was sweating profusely and I couldn't stop the tremor in my hands.
I spotted Hannah at one of the tables outside. She beamed when she saw me. When I got closer, her smile faltered.
"Hey," she said uncertainly.
"Hey bird. Looking sharp."
We hugged and she held onto me. I'll admit, the sight of Hannah in an ass-hugging pencil skirt went a long way toward distracting me, but I couldn't suppress my panic. I felt so damn sleazy, and seeing Hannah tore at my heart.
"Matt, you're shaking."
I pulled away from her.
"Yeah. Yeah, I—" I collapsed into the chair across from Hannah. No way could I eat right now. I held my head in my hands. I knew how I looked: glassy eyed and ashen, with dark sleepless bags. "I'm hot as hell, too." Better to point that out before Hannah noticed the sweat beading on my brow. Too bad it was another lie. I was in a cold sweat; my skin felt clammy. I draped my jacket around my shoulders.
"Matt..."
I glanced up. I met Hannah's big brown eyes, full of concern.
"Work is stressful," I mumbled. "Really stressful. It's a rough day. I'm fine. I couldn't park for shit, I..."
At least I was saying a few true things.
Hannah reached for my hand and squeezed it. Such unconditional affection came across from her. And I was trash. I was filthier than trash.
I slid my hand out of hers.
"Hey," she said, "let's get something to eat, yeah?"
"I'm not hungry." I pulled a fifty from my wallet and tossed it across the table. "Get whatever you want."
"Matt, I am not taking—"
"Just take it!" I slammed the table. The umbrella shook above us.
Hannah clutched the bill and shrank in her chair. A few people paused to look at us. God, I was losing it.
"Sorry. Hannah, sorry. It's work." I gestured vaguely. "How's... how's work for you, by the way? Pam being a monster?"
"No." Hannah gazed at her lap. "Um... she's fine. Impressed, I think."
"Has she asked about me?" I leaned forward. Trying to appear offhanded was never going to work right now. "How we know one another or anything?"
"No, Matt. And don't worry, I didn't ask her about you either. I'm—" Hannah stood. "I'm going to get my lunch. I'll be right back."
I watched her walk into the deli.
When I saw her ordering, I gathered my jacket and bolted.
I couldn't do this anymore.
I had to make it right.
I had to call Bethany.
And maybe I wouldn't tell Bethany the whole truth, and maybe I wouldn't tell Hannah the whole truth, but I had to tell one it was over, and I had to tell the other it was starting.
When I got to my car, I texted Hannah.
I'm so sorry. I got called away. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'll be better tomorrow. I have an obligation tonight. I'd rather be with you but I have to do this. Let me take you camping this weekend. Tomorrow. We'll go into the mountains. Say yes.
CHAPTER 18
Hannah
_____
"You're home early..."
Chrissy raised her eyebrows and watched me expectantly.
Chrissy just happened to be in the kitchen when I got home from work. Mom too. Maybe it was a coincidence, but it felt like they were lurking, waiting to see whether I came home after work or went to Matt's place.
At least mom didn't beat around the bush.
"You haven't already lost that sweet boy, have you?"
"He's twenty-eight. Not exactly a boy." I rummaged through the pantry, hiding from mom's prying eyes and looking for comfort food. "Also, he's not that sweet. He's kind of a douchebag sometimes."
Chrissy clicked her tongue.