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“So now that we’re almost alone, I really just wanted to say, I mean, what I needed to tell you is, um, well, I just don’t want you to get the wrong impression here. All I have to offer you is friendship. I’m not ready for anything more and I’m no good for anyone right now,” I said.

  Samuel tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertip brushed the top of my ear and my face was suddenly warm. This would be much easier if he didn’t do that sort of thing.

  “The last guy must have really done a number on you,” he said.

  “You have no idea,” I said, backing slightly away from him. This is the closest I had been to a man since my husband. I mean, ex-husband.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  “Oh, I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for that,” I sighed.

  “I can see your sadness,” he said. “I can see you’ve been through something that wounded you. You wear it in your eyes and around your mouth. And all I’m saying is you don’t have to anymore.”

  If I could ever think of a moment I was speechless, it was right then. And so he went on.

  “But, look, I understand. I know what it’s like to have this pain inside you and not be ready to put it behind you just yet. And so, if you want to be friends, we’ll be friends. That’s all right with me. For now.” He gave me a smile.

  “Okay. Good,” I managed. I was still in shock from all he said and how true it was. I didn’t know I was so transparent. Or maybe he was just hyper aware. I don’t know which would make me feel better.

  “Well, we better get going. Gotta get Mason ready for bed and whatnot,” Samuel said.

  I walked them to the door and gave Mason a fist bump. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “I certainly hope so,” Samuel said.

  And they were off down the road. I watched them for a moment. Samuel was holding Mason’s hand and saying something to him I couldn’t hear. Mason was looking up at him with a smile. The whole scene was pretty adorable. It made me ache for things. Like so many other times, my hand instinctively wrapped around my center. I was just hoping he hadn’t noticed that little habit. Ughhhhhh. I needed a shower. I needed to just relax for a bit. Zone out.

  I walked back toward my bedroom and started to pull my shirt off up over my head. I heard the faint ding of my phone I left in the living room. I paused and turned to look back down the hall toward it. Somehow I just knew. I knew it wasn’t Emma or my mother or my agent. I knew it wasn’t anyone I knew. But it was someone who knew me, somehow, in some way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next time I saw Jeff again after he left was six months later on a Wednesday. He came by the house to pick up something from his office, which I hadn’t set foot in since he’d been gone. I answered the door and he stood there smiling as if nothing had happened, as if I was supposed to be happy for some reason unbeknownst to me.

  “Why the long face?” he asked.

  And given I didn’t know how to respond to that, I just told him to collect what he needed and leave. He shot down the hallway toward his office, whistling. I went to make myself a cup of tea. I didn’t hear much movement back there as I steeped my tea bag and squeezed some honey into my cup but I kept my eyes fixed in his general direction.

  After several minutes, he appeared in the doorway with a box full of items I didn’t bother checking over. If he was taking it, I certainly didn’t need it. And even if I did need it or want it, I was far too deep into my disdain for him to admit it.

  “Are you all right? Are you eating well?” He had the audacity to ask.

  “What do you care?” I snapped.

  “Of course I care. I’ve always cared. Despite what you may think, everything I did, I did out of love for you,” he said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I shook my head.

  “Well, I’m not.”

  He stated it with such a sincere tone that I realized he was absolutely delusional. “Duly noted,” I said.

  “So how’s the writing coming along?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Look, I’m not really in the mood for small talk, Jeff. So if you have what you need, you should just go.”

  “Um, well, I’ve got almost everything.”

  “What else do you need then?”

  “Delilah, well, you know, there’s the matter of um, the ring. As you know it was my grandmother’s ring, and my mother’s after her, and well, it’s meant to stay in the family you see. So, I need it back now.” His eyes were fixed on me as if his request wasn’t supposed to sting.

  I hesitated before I answered. “Why are you in such a hurry to have it back? It’s not like you’re getting married again.”

  “Well, actually, I am. Engaged anyway. I’ll have to wait until our divorce is final before I can make it official, of course,” he said.

  I dropped my mug onto the hardwood floor and barely heard it shatter. I stood there not knowing what to do or say or think. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I could feel anger beginning to rise in my throat.

  “And what makes her so goddamn special, huh?! What makes her so amazing that you just threw away our entire marriage for her?! Do you know, do you even realize what you put me through? What I let you do to me? Does any of that even count for anything?!” I screamed.

  Jeff was standing there with his mouth gaped open in shock but for what I didn’t know. None of this should’ve been shocking to him. None of this should have even felt a little surprising. He was a coward of a man and I didn’t know why it took me so long to realize it.

  “Look, I know the last little bit of our marriage was a little rough, but…”

  “A little rough?! A LITTLE ROUGH?! You think that was just a little rough? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Jeff. You know what, yeah, here, take your goddamn ring. Put it on her hand. Make it mean more than it meant on mine. Now get out!” I yelled. I threw the ring straight at his chest, my nostrils flaring, my hands clenched into fists to keep myself from throwing every object around me that I could.

  Jeff slipped the ring into his front pocket, turned on his heel, and walked out without saying a word.

  The next time I saw him was in court for the divorce proceedings. He hired someone to come get the rest of his things and all of our communication after that day was through lawyers. It became a terrible game of telephone. After he left that day with my ring for someone else’s hand, all the sadness I had felt was gone, all the time spent questioning his leaving was over. I no longer wished he’d stayed. I no longer wished everything was back the way it was.

  That day, he left. And I was free. Free from so many things.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I had avoided Samuel for the last two weeks and I intended to keep it that way moving forward. He got too close and I needed to pull back and put a stop to it. I didn’t want to confuse him or lead him on. I didn’t want love or anything that came close to it either. I took a different walking route in the neighborhood, avoided the gym and the café. Anywhere I knew he might be, I didn’t go. He must’ve been busy because despite knowing where I lived, he didn’t attempt to stop by. He only called twice but I let them go to voicemail and didn’t return either call. I settled into thinking he got the point. Until Friday night.

  I answered a knock on the door at 6:33 p.m. and there he was with fresh dahlias and one of those plastic bags with a smiley face on the side synonymous with only one type of take-out food.

  “Hi, I have Chinese and I feel like that’s an acceptable reason to invite me in,” he said, smiling.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I’m going to feed you,” he said.

  “Look, I think you have the wrong idea,” I said as I opened the door a little wider so he could come in. He started toward the kitchen with the food that admittedly smelled heavenly.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  I followed him to the kitchen and sat opposite him at the bar.

  “I just think you need to understand that I�
��m not looking to get involved with anyone. I’m freshly divorced, I just moved here, I have a lot going on inside my own head and that’s really no good for anyone.” I exhaled.

  “I see. Is it so bad that I enjoy your company?” he asked.

  “Well, no, but…”

  “But nothing. That’s all this has to be. Do you enjoy my company?” he asked.

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “Good then. It’s settled. We can be friends.”

  “Umm, okay. Friends. Just friends,” I declared.

  “Right,” he said as he handed me wonton soup. “I opted to get you the soup instead of the egg roll. It was a gamble I know but I rolled the dice.”

  “That’s perfect. I don’t like egg rolls,” I said. It was unsettling how well he seemed to know me. Then again, perhaps it was just the many years of someone not being all that concerned about what I liked or knowing me at all. Looking back, I realized in the entire eight years we were together, Jeff never really asked what I liked or what I wanted. It was always what he liked and that was it. It was sort of sad that it only took me a couple of days with this guy to realize that. For crying out loud, he’d done more for me and been more considerate of me in these few days than Jeff had in all of our years together. That was terrifying to me.

  We sat here eating, talking, and laughing for the next hour and then I got out some wine and we moved to the couch.

  “Here,” he said, handing me one of the two fortune cookies.

  “Oh, no, I can’t. There’s only one for me. I can’t do that,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” He laughed.

  “I don’t want to tell you. You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “You might as well tell me now because I definitely already think you’re a little crazy.” He laughed again.

  “Okay, fine. I don’t like only having one fortune cookie to open. It feels too final. I need at least an option for a second one in case I don’t like the first one. It’s how I stay in control of my destiny,” I said.

  “Your destiny?” He laughed. “It’s a fortune cookie, not a crystal ball. But, okay, you know what, that’s kind of cute. So I’ll tell you what. You can have mine if you don’t like yours. Deal?”

  “Deal!” I said. I broke mine open, popped half of it in my mouth, and read. “You will meet many new people this year.” I rolled my eyes. “See that’s what I mean. Like what kind of fortune is that? Of course I will, I just moved,” I said.

  “Fret not, my lady,” he said and handed over his cookie.

  I gave him the other half of my first cookie to eat while I broke his open. “The secrets you keep, keep you,” I said, swallowing hard. “Okay, well that’s not a fortune either,” I said, dismissing it.

  “Sure it is. I think those are wise words. That’s a good one,” he said. “Don’t you have secrets, Delilah?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” I returned.

  “Touché. I’ll tell you one of mine if you tell me one of yours,” he said.

  “I don’t like this game,” I said.

  “Oh, come on. It will be fun. Besides, isn’t that what friends are for? Sharing secrets?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes at him. He was using my own words against me and I didn’t like that either. “Fine. You first.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He quieted for a second, thinking about the secret he was about to share. I saw a crease form in the center of his forehead and realized making him my friend made him no less attractive. Tonight he was wearing his glasses. I guessed he normally wore contacts but tonight he was more relaxed, more intimately presented, if that even makes sense. He’d worn sweatpants and a v-neck t-shirt with sneakers. He had a thin jacket that he’d taken and slung over a chair in the kitchen.

  “Okay, before I start I need you to understand that I haven’t told anyone this. I mean, no one. Ever. You’ll be the first to know and probably the only one, too,” he said.

  I nodded, staring intently.

  “So about two years after my wife left me, I hired a private investigator to locate her. I had it in my head that I needed to make sure she was okay. And I needed to convince her to at least be in Mason’s life, even if she didn’t want to be in mine. Anyway, he does his thing for a few weeks and finds her. He reports back to me that she’s living a little south, not really too far away and that she’s got this whole new life. New job, new place to live, new man. New man! This is kind of the moment I stopped listening because I just couldn’t have imagined, you know? So the investigator sends over these photos of the two of them. They’re not high quality images but I can tell he just looks like your average guy, nothing special. Except he’s wearing a wedding ring. But she isn’t. So then I’m really confused and I asked the PI about it. He says the guy is married but spends more time with her than at home. And I can’t believe it. She leaves us behind, moves to start fresh only to be dating a married guy. I still don’t understand it even to this day. But after what he uncovered, it didn’t hurt anymore. You know? It just didn’t. I decided after that, that Mason and I were both better off without her. I was instantly over her as far as feeling anything for her was concerned,” he said, releasing a sigh.

  “Oh my god, Samuel. I’m so sorry, for all of that. I can’t believe she did that to you. To Mason. I don’t think I could ever just leave like that. Especially not my child. I could never understand someone who would do that,” I said as my arm instinctively found its way around my waist.

  “Yeah, well, it’s okay. Really. I have accepted it and let it go. Mason doesn’t even ask about her anymore,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

  I inhaled sharply. What on earth am I going to tell him? I sat back into the corner of the couch and thought deeply. I might as well tell someone. No one knew. I had kept it in all this time. Not even Emma knew. It might feel okay to tell someone now.

  “Okay. When I was married, I got pregnant. And then I lost her. You already know that part though,” I said. I had already told him that much before but speaking it out loud again still stung. Perhaps it always would.

  “Oh, Delilah...” he said.

  “After the miscarriage, my husband became obsessed with trying again even though I didn’t want to. He started pushing it. He, uh, he forced me to….” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t finish saying it. I felt the dampness right underneath my eyes and looked down. I couldn’t look at him.

  “Say it out loud, Delilah,” he said, encouragingly.

  “He raped me.” I’d never said it out loud like that before. It felt…like a relief. Samuel didn’t say anything. He waited for me to go on. “He did it many times. Over a couple of years. I stopped fighting because it was easier,” I said, turning my face downward.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  I managed to turn my face up. I was partially coiled up, holding myself in place and partially leaning into him, knowing somehow my secret was safe here in this space.

  “Listen to me, Delilah,” he said. “Nothing he did to you, nothing that happened to you, was your fault. None of it. Not even a little. Do you understand?”

  The look in his eye was so intense I knew he was telling the truth. “Yes,” I managed.

  “I just can’t believe someone would treat you like that. And someone you trusted. Someone you loved who claimed to love you. I will never understand men like him,” he said. And then he started leaning forward.

  Oh my god. He’s going to try to kiss me. This cannot happen, no way. Oh, god, what do I do? Do something, Delilah!

  He seemed to know what I was thinking because just as I was freaking out internally, he turned my face gently to the side and planted a kiss on my cheek. It was soft but deliberate. It lingered.

  “Thank you for telling me your secret, Delilah. It’s safe with me,” he said.

  “I know,” I said and smiled.

  Three hours later, my eyes fluttered open and I realized we had fallen asleep on the couch together. Great. But I had to admit, it really was
great. He was warm against me, my head leaning into his chest. How in the hell did we get like this? He smelled good. Oh my god, shut up. You are not helping yourself right now. Should I get up? Should I ask him to go home? I glanced at the clock and it was 2 a.m. I can’t ask him to leave right now, that would be so rude. It’s not like anything was happening. We were just sleeping. I should go back to sleep and deal with it in the morning. Obviously, we were going to need to cover no sleepovers. We were definitely not sleepover friends.

  I lay here in the silence for a moment, smelling him and thinking. I couldn’t get that last text off my mind. I had thought about it every day since I received it. Not because it was particularly profound or revealing. Not because it wasn’t true or I didn’t already know it. But because it was terrifying to think someone was watching me this closely. For the life of me, I didn’t understand it. I had run so many scenarios in my head. Was Jeff watching me and just fucking with me? That sounded like something he would do. He’d grown to enjoy inflicting me with pain, though I hadn’t figured out why. Granted, before it was physical pain, but really what kind of leap was psychological pain from there? Not much, I ventured to guess.

  He knows you better than you want him to,

  but don’t be afraid. He’s right for you.

  What did the mystery texter know anyway? How would they know he’s right for me? It’s probably just someone’s idea of a sick joke. I just sort of wish they were done joking now. I looked up at him. He looked peaceful and content. Suddenly I became very aware that his right arm was down and around the left side of me. And his warmth against me was everything I wanted and everything I was resisting right now. Just as I was thinking these intense things, he shifted and shuffled and everything was bumpy for a moment until it settled back down but his eyes were open and he was looking down at me.

  “Hi,” I whispered.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “You should know that it’s more or less the middle of the night and we should both be sleeping,” I said.