My phone was still in my hand when it buzzed with a text from my sister.
Hey!! Just wanted to let you know it went really well with Maxim last night. He’s such a hard worker! LOL you should have seen his face when I handed him his cash at the end of the night—it was like I gave him a million dollars!
At the sight of his name, I felt guilty. I’d have to tell Maxim what I was doing with Carolyn. Not because I’d made any promises or anything, but because we’d left some things up in the air last night, and I didn’t want to string him along. He deserved to find someone braver than me. Is he working tonight?
Three little dots faded in and out as she replied. Yes. I’m picking him up at 3:30. He tried to tell me he’d take a bus. This was followed by laughing emojis with tears.
I’d have smiled, but I couldn’t. Are you able to bring him home?
She replied with a thumbs up.
For a few minutes, I sat there staring at my phone, trying to think of what I was going to say to Maxim, how I was going to explain it. For all I knew, he wouldn’t even care.
But as I made the call, my gut told me he would.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s me.”
“Hi.” He sounded so happy to hear from me, I cringed.
“What are you up to?” I asked lamely.
“I’m walking to Western Union right now. I found a location only two kilometers from your house. My mother called at three A.M. this morning to let me know she had wired my savings.”
I love the way he says kilometers. “Good. That’s good.”
“Yes, and I made a list of things I need to do after that. Aren’t you proud of me?”
Oh fuck, that’s cute. “Yes. What’s on the list?”
“Open a bank account, apply for a credit card, buy some clothes.”
With all the turmoil last night, I’d forgotten to give him the things I’d purchased. Now I wasn’t even sure I should. “Good thinking.”
“How is your day?”
Terrible. “Good.” I frowned. “Maxim, I just wanted to let you know, I’m taking Carolyn out tonight.”
Silence. “Oh.”
“I wanted to be honest, because you were so compassionate during our conversation last night. I decided I’m not really into letting things go any further with us. I just can’t.”
“Okay.”
“I feel like I owe it to myself, and to her, to give it one more chance.” I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop.
“I get it.”
“But that doesn’t mean I want you to leave. I don’t.” I want to have it both ways.
“Thank you. Have a great time tonight.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and lowered my forehead to my desk, picturing him standing in front of Western Union, staring at his phone, thinking what a fucking coward. That’s what I felt like, anyway.
A moment later, I picked up my head and shook it off. I’d made the right decision. I hadn’t been rash, I’d been realistic. I’d considered the options, weighed the pros and cons, and made my choice based on my long-held, long-term goals. That’s what I always did. It’s who I was. Or at least, it’s who I was pretending to be. Sooner or later, my feelings would catch up.
They had to.
“I’m so glad you called me.” Beaming, Carolyn reached over and tapped my thigh as I drove downtown. “I was worried about you.”
“Me?” I feigned surprise.
“Yes. You really seemed bothered the other night.”
“Nah. Nothing to worry about.”
“Good. So where should we go?”
“I thought maybe I’d take you to my sister’s bar. You mentioned you’ve never been to The Blind Pig.” I ignored the voice in my head telling me that wasn’t the real reason I wanted to go there. The one that knew I was a fraud. The one that recognized my inability to stay away from him.
“I haven’t!” Carolyn was delighted. “I’d love to go there! Your sister is so nice. I really like her.”
“She likes you, too.”
“Did she say that? Oh, God.” She waved a hand in the air. “That sounded so middle school of me. Forget that.”
“As a matter of fact, not only Ellen said that, but Maxim and Gage and Lanie all made a point to tell me how wonderful you are.” It was a little bit of an exaggeration, but I liked the blush it put on her cheeks, and it was a relief to know I could still be charming when I wanted to be.
I continued to pour it on, opening the car door for her, helping her out, taking her arm as we walked from the parking garage to the bar. She looked radiantly happy, more beautiful than I’d ever seen her, really, and I’m sure we looked like the perfect couple on the outside.
But as soon as we walked into the bar, I looked around for Maxim, and when I saw him hurry by carrying an armful of liquor bottles, my insides twisted. What the fuck was I doing? This was so unfair, bringing Carolyn here, parading her right under his nose. And now that I saw him, I wanted him even more. The difference in my body’s reaction to him compared to its reaction to Carolyn was staggering.
Just keep it off your face, I told myself, putting an arm around Carolyn’s back. If you can’t bury it altogether, at least keep it off your face.
It wasn’t easy—every time I saw him out of the corner of my eye, I lost track of what Carolyn was saying—but I thought I did a fairly good job. Maxim did even better. Granted, he was at work and I was out socially, but he barely even glanced at us the entire time we were there. He’d nodded hello when we’d come in, but that was it. Was he mad? The thought angered me. He said he’d be fine either way! Did he think this was easy, sitting across the table from one person and craving to be with another? Having to hide it? Feeling horrible and ashamed and guilty for it? It’s so easy for you, isn’t it, Maxim? You know exactly who you are and what you want, and you don’t care what anyone thinks. Well, that’s not how it is for me, so don’t tell me you understand and then judge me.
Even worse than his ignoring me was the way I saw him flirting with customers. Flirting! With women! Giving them his sly Russian smiles and big blue eyes and probably charming them with his accent. And they laughed and batted their lashes and touched him on the arm or chest. They probably thought he’d go home with them. It took everything I had not to run over there and yell Fuck you, he doesn’t even like your parts!
I tried harder with Carolyn. I was attentive and polite. I laughed at her jokes. I told her she looked beautiful. I asked about her family, her job, and her favorite music. I made a big deal about how much patience she must have to be a teacher, how much better at math she probably was than me, and how I admired her for running marathons. I took her hand when we walked back to the car. I kissed her on her porch, a chaste press of my lips against hers I hoped would fire me up.
It didn’t.
End this fucking charade. It’s painful.