“Well, don’t do that again. Make sure your alarm is set every night.”
I nod. “I was hoping you still had time to work out this week?” Marcus has a home gym with top-of-the-line equipment. I’d become lazy when Andrew hadn’t made any attempts to find me. That was my first mistake. One I didn’t plan on repeating.
“Of course.”
“It’s all coming back, you know? The fear, the anger. I really thought it was over and he’d moved on. How could I have been so stupid?”
“You’re far from stupid, but anger is good. We can use anger.” I like the glint in his eye, the determination.
I nod and throw my shoulders back. He’s right. I’m not going to let Andrew make me feel like a helpless victim. “See you Wednesday.”
Greg comes over the next night, bringing a big bottle of local wine. He prides himself on finding ones with the most amusing names, like Red Monkey Velvet, or Purple Panda. It won’t be expensive—Greg doesn’t make much money as a driver—and I like that he’s never trying to impress. I pour us each a glass while he builds me a fire, then we sprawl on the couch. The wine is good and I would love to finish the bottle, but I’m raw from not enough sleep the past few nights. Too much wine would wreck me.
I tell Greg about the weekend, downplaying the events, and switch subjects. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want him to worry, but it’s more that I don’t like the helpless feeling of stress and frustration that invoking Andrew’s name creates inside my chest. Besides, that’s not what this evening is about. I don’t need Greg to be a consoling ear or a sympathetic sounding board.
We don’t talk a lot. Our relationship has mostly been about having fun. When we get together it’s always something simple, dinner and a movie at his house or mine, maybe a walk. He’s a few years younger than me, in his early thirties, and doesn’t seem to take anything too seriously. I still laugh when I think about how he literally landed on my doorstep after he tripped on a loose step. He was so embarrassed when I opened the door and found him hopping around and clutching his knee. The next time he came with a package—and a hammer.
My cell phone rings. “It’s my brother.” Greg pauses the movie.
“Just wanted to check on you,” Chris says. “Everything all right?” His voice reminds me so much of our father’s, but he has my mom’s fair looks, and her upbeat everything-is-going to-be-okay personality. When I’m with Chris, I feel like both my parents are still with me, which is comforting. I didn’t expect to lose them so young and I miss them every day. Chris has been a great uncle to Sophie, protective and loyal, always coming to her recitals or soccer games, and every holiday dinner. Since Sophie’s gotten older she travels over to the island and spends the weekend with him and his girlfriend. She can’t wait to have a little baby cousin to spoil.
“So far, yeah. But can we talk tomorrow? Greg is over right now.”
He pauses, and I know he’s curious—I’ve told him about Greg, but only that we’re dating, not that he spends the night. “Okay, call me in the morning.”
I set my phone down on the coffee table, and turn back to Greg. He shifts his weight so we’re face-to-face.
“So when do I get to meet your brother?” he says. “We’ve been dating for nearly three months. He’s probably starting to wonder what’s wrong with me.” He says it with a cheeky smile that shows off his dimples (one on his left check and a little divot in his chin), but there’s a serious, almost shy tone to his voice. I’m surprised, hadn’t thought he was all that concerned about meeting my brother.
“I haven’t introduced Chris to a boyfriend for a long time.” I laugh nervously and pick up the bowl. Greg made the popcorn, insisting the butter had to be layered right. He tossed it with a salad fork and spoon, the tattoos on his forearms flexing—a brightly colored phoenix, flames twisting high and disappearing under his sleeve, where I know they meet with a poker hand, the words KING OF HEARTS across his pectoral.
He smiles. “So I’m a boyfriend?”
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” I don’t want to have this conversation right now, when half of my mind is wondering where Andrew is tonight, if he might even be watching my house, but it’s happening whether I like it or not.
“I don’t know. Does it come with any perks?” His warm hand traces a circle on my thigh, moving upward, and my body tenses. I’m not in the mood and I’m about to suggest we just snuggle, but then I realize this is exactly what Andrew wants—to get inside my head and mess with my life. Greg and I have great sex. He’s the only man I’ve slept with since Andrew, and it was strange at first, his mouth and body not as forceful, but he let me take the lead, which was exciting and new. I learned sex could be fun. I’m not going to let Andrew take that away.