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  “So why aren’t we?” he asked.

  “Well. Once I woke up, I was very aware that we had fallen asleep together on my couch and I couldn’t go back to sleep.”

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “Um, according to the clock, about thirty minutes,” I said.

  “You should go back to sleep. Do you want me to leave?” he asked.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to do that, especially at this hour,” I said. Jesus Christ. Why the hell do I literally say the exact opposite of what I’m thinking every single time?!

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. We are only friends after all,” he teased.

  “I’m not uncomfortable,” I said rather flatly.

  Samuel smiled the sort of smile that would’ve made me weak in the knees a long time ago before those parts of me died. I’m glad I could still recognize it though. Perhaps one day the want for it would be in me again. He gently pulled me in, sort of hugging me with the arm that was around me. And I didn’t know how I was feeling. Was he too close? Was this too much? If I was being completely honest with myself, the answer was both yes and no.

  “Delilah?” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “Will you go somewhere with me?” he asked.

  “Right now? It’s 2:30 a.m.,” I said.

  “It’s not far,” he said.

  I thought about it for a moment and then agreed to it. We sat up slowly. He led me out the front door by my hand and we started walking down the road toward a grouping of trees. I had never gone this way before but he was right. It was very close. We came to a small gap and he walked me onto a small path. A few steps later, we were standing on the most adorable little bridge that was built over a small stream. There was a lamp post close enough that it casted a soft light on us. I stood here, looking down into the ripples and smiling. Samuel reached up overhead and plucked a leaf from the overhanging branch.

  “I come here sometimes to think. Not many people know about it, so it’s quiet most of the time. I stand here and throw leaves in and watch the water carry them away,” he said.

  “It’s lovely, Samuel,” I said, smiling at him.

  “I thought you might like it. I figured I could share it with you.”

  “Well, I’m certainly glad you did.” I elbowed him in the side. We stood here taking turns throwing leaves in.

  “You know, life is sort of like this,” he said, tossing another leaf in.

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “You’re a leaf, and you just get thrown into the rapids. And who knows if you’ll make it out and down the stream.”

  I threw a leaf in and it got stuck on a rock.

  “See,” he said.

  I studied the leaf for a moment to see if it would free itself. “Well, sometimes you just need a helping hand,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. I walked down the bridge and around to the edge of the stream. I took a stick and poked at my leaf until it was freed and continued down the stream. I looked back up at him.

  “I see,” he said, smiling back at me.

  “Even if the leaf doesn’t know they need help,” I said.

  He nodded.

  I walked back around and up the bridge next to him. I leaned into him. “Thank you for sharing your space. It means a lot to me that you would do that,” I said.

  “Of course.”

  We fell silent and I started to shiver a bit.

  “Let’s head back,” he said.

  So we walked back down the path toward my house. When we got to the front door, he stopped. I turned back toward him.

  “Maybe I should go home,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  “Oh. Well, it’s really late. You can stay here if you want,” I said, biting my lip.

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to stay if you don’t want me to,” he said.

  “I do.” Ughhhh. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  “Okay, then. I’ll stay, Delilah,” he whispered.

  And he did. We walked back into the living room and resumed our previous positions back on the couch. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep nestled into his chest. It was the best sleep I’d gotten since I moved here.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My eyelids fluttered open much later than normal. 11 a.m. on a Saturday. That was probably way more sleep than I needed but less than I wanted. I shifted slightly, peeking up at Samuel’s face. His still, peaceful, pleasant face. I could feel his chest rising and falling under me as I tried carefully not to wake him. Friends can cuddle, right? What am I even saying?! This has to be a one-time thing. But he’s so comfortable. But, no. Get it together, Delilah.

  I shot up to a sitting position and he startled awake. He gazed up at me with his big brown eyes and for a split second, I felt something I didn’t really want to but also desperately wanted to.

  “Good morning,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “What time is it?” he asked.

  “After eleven,” I sighed.

  “Oh, wow! You hungry?” he asked.

  “I’d be lying if I said no. But I also don’t think it’s a great idea for us to spend this much time together. You were here all night. We shouldn’t have let that happen. I shouldn’t have let that happen,” I said. I’m sure the way I changed my mind back and forth was giving him whiplash. Hell, it was confusing the hell out of me these days so I know it had to be confusing for him. This was truly awful. I was truly awful.

  “I don’t understand. I asked you last night if you wanted me to go and you said no,” he said.

  “Well, I didn’t,” I said. Oh my god, why do I make no sense?

  “So you lied when you said that?” he asked.

  “No, I wanted you to stay. I just shouldn’t have wanted you to stay. I’m very comfortable with you and I don’t like that,” I said.

  “So do you want me to leave?” He was looking right into my eyes.

  “I think you probably should,” I said.

  “That’s not what I asked, Delilah. Do you WANT me to leave? Is that what your heart is telling you?” he asked with a sad urgency in his voice.

  There he was, sitting on my couch right next to me. He just wanted to like me. And I couldn’t let him do that. I couldn’t let him in.

  “I don’t listen to my heart anymore, Samuel. It has betrayed me before and it will betray me again.”

  “No, Delilah, your heart didn’t betray you. A man did. There’s a difference,” he said. Silence fell over us for a moment before he continued.

  “I like you, Delilah. I’ve liked you since I knocked you down in the café and stood there looking into your big blue eyes thinking to myself that I wanted to know more about this woman sprawled out on the floor, collecting her belongings, collecting herself. You can see it, you know? The pain. You try to hide it but the truth is I knew you were hurt before you ever told me where your wounds were. But I’m not here to save you from it, Delilah. No man can. I’m here to remind you that wounds heal with time and the scars mean you survived it. You can’t let your past rob you of a future. I think you know that. And I think you like me, too.”

  Just then he reached over and gently pulled my chin up to look at him. I was helpless, fighting back tears. He looked at me for what seemed like a long time. Just sat there, studying my face, searching for something. I didn’t know what he was looking for or if he found it but he leaned in and kissed me. His mouth pressed against mine, no fear or hesitation in his lips. I closed my eyes and kissed him back. I let go for just a moment and sunk into it. I let him take me somewhere, his hands on either side of my face, kissing me deeper and deeper until I felt it in the back of my knees.

  And then I told him to leave. He didn’t put up a fight. He left quietly without saying a word. I walked straight back to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and stepped in. I sat in the bottom of the tub and sobbed into the falling water.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Samuel
didn’t come back that day. He didn’t come back the next day either. He didn’t come back the next week or the week after that. Not that I had been keeping count but it had been exactly twenty-two days and he hadn’t come back. It was getting colder outside and the leaves were falling. I wrote. I went grocery shopping. I had dinners regularly with Emma and David. I helped Emma at her studio. I went to the gym. And I slept.

  And he didn’t come back.

  Not that I blamed him. I mean, the man kissed me and I kicked him out; why would he come back? I wasn’t exactly inviting.

  I went on with life. It was better this way. I didn’t need those kinds of distractions. Not now, maybe not ever. I only received one mystery text after he left my house.

  You’re making a mistake.

  What did they know? It’s not like they knew me. It’s not like they knew what I needed or what I wanted. For Christ’s sake, I didn’t even know who they were! It could be some elaborate joke and I definitely didn’t have time for that.

  But enough of that. I was scheduled to meet Emma in a half hour for drinks so I needed to get moving. And at that point, I needed a drink.

  Emma arrived for our little girls’ night ten minutes early and to no one’s surprise, I wasn’t dressed yet and had also cracked open some wine. She found me sipping it from a coffee mug seated on the edge of my bed.

  “Where are your pants?” she asked.

  “I felt better without them,” I said.

  “Does this mean we aren’t going?” she asked, her voice growing angry.

  “Oh, we are definitely going. I need to go. Could you maybe choose some pants for me?” I asked, clearly establishing myself as the mess of a friend in this duo.

  “Here.” She rolled her eyes.

  She chose well though. Snug, skinny jeans that were both cute and comfortable. I hopped up and pulled them on. “Do you think I made a mistake making Samuel leave?” I asked.

  “Do you think you made a mistake?” Emma asked in return.

  “Don’t do that,” I said.

  “Do what?” she asked as I gazed into the mirror, applying mascara. If I was going out, I was going to try not to look like a garbage monster. I had put on the black lace top Emma wanted me to wear before and my bangs were actually cooperating much to my surprise.

  “That thing where you turn everything back on me and make me start thinking about stuff I don’t want to think about instead of just answering my questions,” I said.

  “D, if I said yes, would that help? If I said no, would that help? The point is, it doesn’t really matter what I think. All that matters is what you think,” Emma said.

  She was always too full of wisdom. I hated it when she made good points. “Emma, can you do me a favor tonight?” I asked.

  “Sure, anything,” she said.

  “Let me get drunk. But don’t let me do anything stupid,” I said.

  “Define stupid.” She laughed.

  “Don’t let me call Samuel. Don’t let me get taken away by any strangers.”

  “Deal.” She smiled.

  And so we were off.

  The bar was a little crowded given it was a Saturday night and everyone was out somewhere at this hour. The music was great, people were dancing, and I made a beeline for the two open stools at the bar. I ordered the first round of drinks and turned to Emma.

  “Cheers, Emma!” I said.

  “To new beginnings,” Emma returned.

  With a clink of our glasses, we both downed about half of our drinks respectively.

  “So how are you and David doing?” I asked.

  “Oh, we’re good. Great, in fact. I think I really picked a winner. I’ve been trying to convince him we should start trying to have a baby,” she said.

  My hand did what it always does and took rest over my belly button. She knew I had a miscarriage but she didn’t know what came after.

  “That’s great, Emma!” I said, trying everything to stifle the frog in my throat.

  “Yeah, I just think it’s time,” she said, and after that her words got a little fuzzy. I looked out over the crowds of scattered people. Some were dancing, some were playing pool in the corner, and some were just in huddles, chatting and laughing. I had always been a people watcher. I studied their faces and tried to make guesses about their real lives. Sometimes I made up entire back stories about them in my head. I pulled myself back into the now and Emma’s voice cleared up.

  “I think you’ll make a great mother, Emma,” I said, smiling at my friend, thinking about all the times she was there for me. I didn’t realize how much I missed her until I moved here. I definitely meant what I said to her just then. She smiled back at me. “Okay, no more sappy, let’s do a shot!” I said, clapping my hands together. I needed to move this evening in a different direction. I shot my hand up in the air to signal the bartender before Emma could object.

  “Oh my god, I may need a minute for this,” she said, staring at the shot glass of clear liquid courage I handed her.

  “Woman up!” I said, holding my shot up in salute. I downed mine in one gulp in time to see Emma gingerly sipping hers. She had always been a bit reserved, even in our younger years. She never broke curfew, never tried drugs, never drank too much. I admired such self-discipline. This was probably why she was always the one taking care of me. Not that I ever got so out of hand that it was too much. Maybe it was time I did that.

  An hour later, I was dancing. I was in the middle of the dance floor, wiggling all my body parts, still holding the empty shot glass from my sixth one in my hand. Emma was close by, wiggling a little less than I was. Everything was a little fuzzy and warm. This was good, really good.

  A guy was dancing his way through the crowd toward me. I made eye contact with him and I wasn’t resisting. He squeezed in next to me and started grinding against me. On any other night, I would have pushed him away but tonight, I just didn’t care. I leaned into him and continued to move my body against his. He swayed his hips in sync with mine and wrapped his hand around my waist. He was a pretty good dancer from what I could tell but it wasn’t as if I had a lot of balance or awareness at that point. It was so fun. Why didn’t I do this more often? Hell, I wasn’t even thinking about Samuel. This guy was pretty hot, I think. My vision was slightly compromised, but I was pretty sure he was decent looking or I’m sure Emma would have put a stop to it. I spun around and rubbed my ass against him. That was how you did it when I was younger and I assumed it was still appropriate. His response was positive. I spun back around to face him and he was smiling at me.

  Just then, I leaned in and planted a kiss on his mouth. He kissed me back and the next thing I knew we were full on making out on the dance floor. I didn’t even know his name. Then again, even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t remember it tomorrow. It was fine.

  And then I pulled back and threw up on his shoes. And everything went black. These are those moments you internalize, the kind that define you, the kind that make you question everything, especially why you just did what you did. That was just what being drunk did to you. All I could see were blips of light and a blurry image here and there. I think I was actually using my feet even though I couldn’t feel them. And then all I felt was the familiar warmth of my own bed. Drunken sleep washed over me and I did not dream.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I awoke to the soft touch of a finger gliding up and down the bridge of my nose. I fought against it, hoping if I kept my eyes shut sleep would find me again. It was Emma. I knew it was Emma without looking because this is how she woke me up every time I had ever been sleeping around her. What on earth did I do last night? So much alcohol. I wondered if she was going to scold me.

  I opened one eye just enough to see Emma beaming back at me. This was not how Saturday mornings were supposed to feel.

  “Good morning, my little fish,” she said.

  “Fish?” I asked.

  “Yes, because you consumed liquid like air last night,” she snorted.

&nbs
p; “Oh, yeah. That. Ughhhhh, that was dumb.”

  “No, it was fine…until the kissing…and also the vomiting,” she said.

  “Kissing?!” I yelped. It was worse than I feared. Oh my god.

  “Yes. Apparently, making out with semi-attractive men and grinding all over them is something you do now.” She laughed.

  I slapped my forehead. “What does semi-attractive mean?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “Well, it means he wasn’t hideous. But he also wasn’t someone you’d make out with when you were sober.”

  “Oh my god. Why? Why did I do that?” I shook my head.

  “Do you want the real answer or do you want the answer you want?” she asked.

  “What does that even mean? Are you saying they aren’t the same?”

  “Yes, that’s what I am saying. You want the answer to be something about just being a single woman and having fun but that’s not the truth.” She uncovered herself. Apparently, she slept in my bed with me last night.

  Because she’s a better friend than I am. “Okay, then what’s the truth?” I asked, afraid of this answer, too.

  “You like him. And it’s obvious to me because I’ve known you for so long. And I think it’s obvious to him, too. And I think it’s obvious to you but you don’t want to embrace it,” she said, staring at me so intensely I’m pretty sure she could see into me.

  I had to contemplate this for a moment. I mean, of course I liked Samuel. What was not to like? I mean, he’s attractive. Okay, he’s way attractive. So attractive I’m pretty sure looking directly at him for an extended period of time would blind me and I’d be okay with it because he would be the last beautiful thing I ever saw. And he’s intelligent and makes me laugh of course. All those standard things. But more than that, he’s comfortable. I think that’s what it is. He’s really comfortable. Like my favorite sweater from eight years ago that I was desperately hoping didn’t fall apart in the dryer every time I put it in. Or when you walk into your grandmother’s house and it smells like chicken noodle soup and lavender soap. He was intoxicatingly comfortable. Fine, so I liked him, but that doesn’t change anything. No men. Nope. No men right now.