Knowing that she needed to talk to Colin, Maria drove to Evan’s. When Colin opened the door to his apartment, she saw that he had been studying at the small kitchen table. Though he invited her in, she declined, the interior of his place appearing suddenly claustrophobic. Instead, they went to Evan’s porch, each taking a seat in a rocking chair as the rain began to fall.
Colin perched on the edge of his seat, forearms resting on his legs. He looked tired, the last twenty-four hours obviously taking a toll. He did nothing to break the silence, and for a moment, Maria wasn’t even sure where to begin.
“I’ve been on edge ever since last night,” she ventured, “so if I’m not making much sense, it’s probably because my thoughts are still jumbled.” She drew a breath. “I mean, I know you were just trying to help me. But Lily was right. Even though I believe you when you say that you weren’t going to hurt the waitress, the way you were acting told a different story.”
“I almost lost control.”
“No,” she said. “You did lose control.”
“I can’t control my emotions. The only thing I can control is my behavior, and I didn’t touch her.”
“Don’t try to minimize what happened.”
“I’m not trying to minimize it.”
“What if you get angry with me?”
“I would never hurt you.”
“And like the waitress, I might end up terrified and in tears anyway. If you’d acted like that toward me, I’d never want to talk to you again. And then, with Evan…”
“I didn’t do anything to Evan.”
“But had it been anyone else who grabbed you – a guy you didn’t know – you wouldn’t have been able to stop, and you know it. Just like Margolis said.” She made sure to hold his gaze. “Or are you going to lie to me for the first time and say I’m wrong?”
“I was scared for you. Because the guy was there.”
“But what you did didn’t make it better.”
“I just wanted to find out what he looked like.”
“And you don’t think I do?” she said, raising her voice. “But tell me this – what if he’d still been there? Just sitting at the bar? What would you have done then? Do you honestly believe that you were capable of having a reasonable conversation with him? No. You would have overreacted, and right now, you’d be in prison.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You already apologized.” She hesitated. “As much as we’ve discussed your past and as much as I thought I knew you, I realize that I don’t. Last night, you weren’t the guy I fell in love with, or even a guy I would have dated. Instead, I saw someone that – in my past – I would have gladly put away.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “All I know is that I don’t have the energy to start worrying that you’ll do something dumb and throw your life away, or that you’ll end up frightening me because something inside you suddenly switches on.”
“It’s not your job to worry about me.”
At his comment, she flushed, all her fears and anxieties and anger rising to the surface like an air bubble moving through water.
“Don’t be a hypocrite! What the hell do you think all that was about last night? Or the past week, for that matter? You hid out on a roof for hours to take pictures of my boss, called every florist in the city, and drove two hours to show a stranger a photograph! You did that because you were worried about me. And now you’re saying that I’m not allowed to worry about you? Why is it okay for you to worry, but not for me —”
“Maria —”
“Let me finish!” she demanded. “I told you that what was happening to me wasn’t your problem! I told you to let it go! But you were dead set on doing whatever the hell you wanted… And okay, maybe you did talk me into letting you take the photos. Because you made it sound like you knew what you were doing – like you could handle it. But based on last night, you obviously can’t! You were almost arrested! And then what would have happened? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? How I would have felt?”