I tell her the story about Aden, how I’d slept with him and was staying at his boat, and then about the earring.
“I’m trying to be like you, but I need some help here. How do you share something as intimate as sex with someone without growing feelings for them? Finding that earring made me feel horrid. And it wasn’t just feeling like another notch in his bedpost, I felt disappointed in him.”
“You’re passing judgment on the guy when you know nothing about the kind of relationship he had with that woman.”
“I am not passing judgment—”
“You’re doing the exact same thing he did when he saw those photos in my place. You’re drawing conclusions that may or may not be accurate.” She sighs. “Sawyer, this is one of the reasons why you needed this so badly. You broke up with a guy for tucking his T-shirts into his underwear.”
“I did not!” Mark didn’t do that, thank God, because that’s just weird.
“Everyone has faults. And I know this might come as a surprise, but you’re not exactly perfect.”
My pulse pounds in my neck and I’m reminded of what Polly said to me at the bar the other night. “Oh yes, and thank you for reminding me. I heard from a woman I’ve never seen in my life that I’m some kind of agoraphobic freak. Thanks for that. It’s nice to know how you see me.”
I’m met with silence and the hurt from that night combined with the knowledge that Aden was fucking some other girl in his bed just days before all comes crashing down over me.
“That’s what this is about anyway, isn’t it? You trying to fix everything you think is wrong with me before you leave me forever?” My eyes heat with tears. “Well, guess what? Maybe I don’t want to be the kind of girl who whores herself off just to chase a good orgasm. Maybe I like the idea that I could share something special with one man, one who values me enough to keep me around for longer than it takes to come, huh? Maybe you should spend some time being me for a bit, see what it’s like to work a real job and date like a normal person!” I’m practically hysterical now, tears streaming down my face and my muscles twitching with adrenaline.
“Feel better?”
No, I do not feel better. I feel like a giant piece of shit.
I’m out of control and I hate it.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go.”
“Don’t you want me to answer the question you called to ask?”
When I don’t respond, she continues.
“How do I do it? It’s easy not to get attached when you don’t put these ridiculous expectations on people.”
“Ridiculous? So monogamy is a ridiculous expectation, is that what you’re saying?”
“All I’m saying is not everything has to have significance or lasting consequences. Some people have sex because it’s fun or they’re bored and when it’s over they move on.”
“I’m not like that. I can’t separate sex from feelings.”
“I think you can, just not with Aden.”
“What does that mean?”
“You didn’t seem to have a problem moving on after Mark.”
Stunned, I drop back and stare motionless at the yawning sea.
She clears her throat. “Maybe you and I aren’t all that different after all.”
“What do I do now?” The words come from my lips but sound as if they’re coming from someone else. Is it possible my feelings for Aden, a man I hardly know, are stronger than what I felt for a man I lived with for months?
“I say just go with it.” There’s the sound of rustling sheets. “Have as much fun as you can with the time you have left.”
If this is “fun,” why does it hurt.
“I better go. Love you.”
The line goes dead.
I push up from my seat and go back into the cottage, my thoughts mulling over Celia’s words. Unable to make sense of any of it, I stay busy by rinsing out my coffee mug and get back to packing.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I’m covering the last knickknack on a bookshelf with bubble wrap when a knock sounds at the door.
My heart leaps, thinking it might be Aden and fearing what I’d say to him, but the shadowed outline through the curtains proves my visitor is way too small to be him.
“Come in!”
Zo? comes bouncing through the door in a pair of spandex capris and a sports bra, her skin glistening with sweat. Does anyone in this town wear a shirt when they jog? “Hey, whatcha’ doing?”
My eyes dart from side to side thinking maybe Zo? isn’t the brightest seashell on the beach. I’d think it was pretty obvious. “Packing.”
“Cool!” She drops down on a stool. “So what happened to you guys the other night? Polly said Aden got weird and dragged you out of Lenny’s.” Her eyebrows pop high on her forehead.
“What? No, that’s not what happened.” I continue to tape up the bubble wrap, keeping my eyes down. “We were late for a movie.”
“Oh yeah, what movie did you see?”
Shit!
I shrug one shoulder, wondering what Celia would do, or say, in this situation. My mind completely blanking, I can’t think of a single movie that’s even out, so I do what I’m beginning to do best. I lie. “No clue. We were too busy making out, all I saw were the ending credits.”
“You little skank!” The way she says it is like she’s giving a compliment and I’m reminded how different from Celia I really am. “So where’s Sergeant Psycho now?”
“He’s not Psycho.” I rein in my urge to defend him and smile, but it’s all teeth. “Probably fishing.”
I have no idea where he is. I’m sure he was surprised when he woke up to see me gone, I know I would’ve been if the roles were reversed, but then again he’s accustomed to casual sex so . . . maybe my leaving before the sun came up won’t even register on his radar.
“Do you need any help?” Zo? scans the room, her eyes landing on the pot of coffee. She hops off her stool and helps herself to a cup, then heads over to flop on the couch next to me. “I can keep you company while you pack.”
“Sure, sounds good.” I scream internally and throw on my best Celia mask.
This is going to be a long day.
ADEN
“I’ll be damned, Colt. You hit the mother lode.” Paul who does the buying for the fish market looks down at my day’s bounty. “Yellowtail, barracuda, halibut, there’s over two hundred pounds of fish here.”
Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you fish for twelve hours straight. “You interested?” My question is clipped, but I’m fucking exhausted and edgy as shit.
“Let me grab the checkbook.” Paul disappears into one of the offices and comes back with a couple men who he instructs to weigh each type of fish and report numbers.
I slide down the wall and to my ass, holding my head in my hands. It’s been throbbing like a motherfucker for the last few hours. I’d like to say it’s from the sun but the overwhelming urge to down a bottle of whiskey tells me it’s probably from my modest drinking day.
It’s not that I didn’t want to get fucked up, and Lord knows I had plenty of shit on my mind I would’ve liked to numb, but I was a machine today. I headed out to my secret spot and was pulling fish in one after the other, I barely had time to throw back a few beers let alone eat.