Curious now, my focus is back on the dating app, where I click on my messages, shocked to find one from Kevin. You look beautiful in that photo.
I lean back, straighten, blinking in surprise. I look beautiful? He never once in our short relationship told me I was beautiful, but then, I don’t look like myself in that photo Jess used for my profile. I blink again when I realize his message just hit my inbox, and my photo, the one I replaced Jess’s with, was already in place. I don’t understand.
My mind goes to the day I knew he and I were over. In a rare meeting of the two Js, I’d been out to lunch with Jack when Jess had joined us. With both of “my people” present, it was difficult to hide my distress. I sink back into that moment, living it again.
Jack is the first to notice my state of mind. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I reply, not to lie to him, but rather to force my answer to be true. But it’s not, which is exactly why I comfort myself by shoving one of the big, fat crispy french fries, which came with a much less interesting hamburger, into my mouth.
“Kevin again,” Jess interjects as if I just confessed rather than suppressed my thoughts on the subject. “The mummified man that sits on your couch most evenings these days.” Before I can answer, she adds, “You feel invisible again.”
“Yes,” I confirm painfully. “Kevin.”
“I’m going to say it again, as I’ve said it ten thousand times,” she states. “You are both”—she waves her fork between me and Jack—“what you choose to be. If you feel invisible, you are invisible. And you both feed this in each other. You use each other as security blankets. When was the last time you dated, Jack?”
“We aren’t talking about Jack,” I quickly chime in, trying to save him.
“In other words, a long time,” she supplies. “You know, if you don’t use it, it wilts.”
I choke on nothing. “Oh my God, Jess.”
“Just don’t use it with her.” Jess’s fork is now pointed at me. “You two will wither away together if you go down that path, and you both know it, or you’d already have visited that option. Bottom line, believing you’re generally unworthy has to stop.” Then her fork points at Jack. “And truth be told, you don’t like me because you know I see the truth and speak it.” She lays her pointy fork down on the table rather primly, shoves her plate forward, and folds her hands in front of her. Her eyes meet mine. “Time for some of that truth right here and now. It’s too late with Kevin. You’ve set a standard with him. You can’t undo what has been done.”
Jack sighs heavily. “As much as I hate to agree with her on anything, I do believe she’s right about Kevin.”
Hours later, I’d been back at the library when I’d texted Kevin and told him I thought we needed a break. He hadn’t replied. Disappointedly, he also hadn’t shown up at my loft that night. He was obviously okay with goodbye. That night, one year and three months ago, had been lonely, but I’d adjusted remarkably quickly. Right now, as I stare at his message, I remember Jess’s words. You can’t undo what has been done. I don’t reply to the message. And I’m not sure why, but I do keep clicking on my matches.
I do a double take when another familiar face appears on my screen. It’s Jack. Jack is on the dating app. I’m confused. He just reminded me about how bad it was for us both the last time we did this and encouraged me to pass on a repeat. And yet he’s on repeat? I’m just not sure what to make of that.
There’s an Oscar Wilde quote that says, “A man’s face is his autobiography. A woman’s face is her work of fiction.”
I lie in bed that night, thinking about Kevin and Jack. Obviously, there is a story to each man’s life that remains a mystery. This doesn’t surprise me with Kevin, at all. He’d spent an excessive amount of our time together on his computer while I’d, in turn, had my head in a book. I’m not sure how either of us ever intended to know one another. On some level, I think we both simply needed to fill empty space. We were placeholders for one another. For a period of time, I now believe I chose to wear rose-colored glasses to view our relationship.
On the other hand, I’ve always believed Jack an open book where I’m concerned, as I am to him. I don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me he’d been trying online dating again. I decide perhaps he’s embarrassed, though that still doesn’t sit quite right. I’m his safe person, and he’s mine, too, even more so than Jess in many ways. He never judges me. I never judge him.
When I finally fall asleep, it feels like the alarm buzzes almost instantly. I peel myself out of bed, my thoughts already jumping left and right, and both directions lead to Jack. Once I’ve showered, I apply the barest touch of makeup I dare apply with my limited skills, dress in a simple fitted black skirt and a black sweater, paired with boots, and head downstairs for a quick cup of coffee. With only a few minutes to spare, sitting at my kitchen island, with steam waving off my coffee cup, I can’t help myself. I log back on to the dating site with the intent of finding Jack’s profile. I’m able to search his name, but I come up with no match. Either I imagined his profile or he deleted it.
Chapter Eleven
In life, the people you call “my people” are those you feel safe and happy with when you’re with them. And yet my short walk to work is shorter than usual as I debate asking Jack about the dating profile, which is insane. I never fret about anything with Jack. I walk into the side employee entrance of the library and cross the lower level before the chaos of a busy day erupts. Once I’m on the escalator, I turn automatically toward the view below that often engages me, for no good reason. I’m early. Visitors have not arrived as of yet, and my mind is still elsewhere. If Jack deleted his profile, the motivation might feel tangled, but it’s also fairly easy to unravel. He did so with the hope that I would not see it before that happened. Jack and I have secrets from one another. I am sadly enlightened over the true state of our relationship, one not as open as I’d thought, and uncomfortable about seeing him for the first time ever.
Once I’m on floor three, walking toward the empty service desk, I hear, “Mia.”
At the sound of Jack’s voice, instinct kicks in, and I automatically turn to find him walking toward me, doing so with no hesitation.
“Coffee Cats had a short line,” he says, offering me a cup as he joins me. “I got you the crème br?lée coffee you love.”
He’s looking exceptionally tall today for some reason. Perhaps it’s simply that I feel smaller than usual, in the midst of my realization that he and I have secrets from one another.
“Thank you,” I say, as we start walking toward the desk. “How was dinner with your sister?”
“About the same as your dinners with Jess,” he says dryly. “She’s been dating a new guy she’s breaking up with because she’s bored.”
The reference to Jess has me wondering what secrets she’s keeping, but then, I lived with her for years. I saw her good, bad, and ugly, and navigated her encounters with a father who abused her, right by her side.
At this point, I’m at my desk, and Jack’s behind me, sitting at his, which faces the opposite wall. “Did you finish the presentation?” he asks, and I can tell he’s rotated his chair to face me.
I rotate mine as well, sipping my coffee, which is sweet and warm, before I confirm, “Yes. I sent it to Kara before I left work.”
Now he sips his coffee. “Did Jess convince you to dive into the hellish online-dating thing again?”
He asks the question without so much as a blink, and I start to doubt myself, wondering if I’d only seen someone who looked like Jack. “I was way too tired to deal with that last night, and I told her so. I’m meeting her for lunch.”
“In other words, you’re doing it.”
He means the dating app, of course. “I’m still deciding.”