When I heard his footsteps again on the stairs, I jumped into action and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t heard the shower yet, but he was going to think there was something wrong with me if I couldn’t even make the call.
After I had made our order at our favorite pizza spot and hung up the phone, I realized Nick had started his shower in the guest bathroom.
I didn’t know what to think about that. It shocked the hell out of me.
I had expected him to use our shower… er the master bedroom shower, because, well, because that was the obvious choice. But it was sort of endearing that he’d used the other one. It made me feel respected in a strange way… It made me feel like he took my privacy into consideration and our divorce with care.
Or maybe it was the opposite. Maybe he couldn’t stomach being in the same place we had shared daily… laughed in… fought in… made love in.
He reappeared in the kitchen with wet hair and an old t-shirt that was nearly see-through from wear. His athletic shorts were from his college track days and they were a little short for his current style. They showed off his muscled thighs, his dark hair that curled from his hips to his ankles.
His body was insane. It had always been like this. From the first day I met him.
If attraction were everything, we never would have had a problem.
He caught me staring and warned, “Don’t laugh at me. They’re all I could dig up.”
“I wouldn’t laugh at you,” I promised. “I might laugh at your shorty-shorts. But don’t take it personally.”
His bark of laughter was unexpected and I couldn’t help but smile. “Did you call for the pizza?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it should be here in twenty minutes or so.”
“Do you… do you want to watch something while we’re waiting?”
I chewed on my bottom lip to keep from agreeing, but my head nodded anyway.
One corner of his mouth curled in a crooked smile, “Good. Jared doesn’t have cable and I’ve missed our shows.”
Before I could respond to that or remind him that they were no longer our shows, he turned around and headed for the living room. I picked up the plate of cheese and followed after him.
I felt surreal as we walked into the living room; it was almost an out of body experience. I was too nervous about the situation, too wired. This was my ex-husband. Or, soon to be anyway. Why were we hanging out?
Why were we being nice to each other?
Why were things finally coming together for us?
Maybe we really were better friends. Maybe we had to get out of our marriage in order to appreciate the other person for who he or she was.
Our living room wasn’t large. Nick’s huge TV hung on one wall with our entertainment console situated beneath. The TV was too big for the room and I had always told him that. But boys and their toys and all that. Especially electronics. There had been no talking him out of it.
I had been in charge of decorating the other half. We had a long, comfy gray couch against the opposite wall that was flanked by two mustard-colored wing-backed chairs. It looked really cute, but to be honest, the wing-backed chairs weren’t really comfortable so we never used them.
A coffee table sat in front of the couch, low and practical. I had rescued it from Goodwill and Nick had refinished it for me and painted it gray. It was my favorite piece on the main floor.
Both of us settled on the couch, as far from each other as we could. Nick assumed control of the remote, which was fine with me because I was having trouble concentrating and I would have been useless to pick something out.
I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I was spending my Friday night hanging out with my ex-husband.