Chapter 10 #2
The ride back up to my apartment is quick, which is good, because it leaves me little time to panic. In fact, I actually feel kind of…calm. I cling to that as I make my way back inside.
“I didn’t realize you still had these plates,” Chloe says as I slip off my shoes and close the door.
I already know what she’s talking about as I enter the kitchen to find her setting the very ’90s Disney dishes on the table.
Back in college, whenever we were bored, we’d walk around the local thrift store to see what weird things we could find.
It was a cheap date night, and it got our noses out of textbooks.
One night, we found a Hercules plate, and Chloe got so excited about it that I spent twenty bucks on the thing, even though I’m pretty sure it’s worth about five cents.
I made it my mission to collect them all after that.
“Well, if that makes you happy…” I set the bag of food on the counter, then go to the cabinet and rifle through it until I find what I’m looking for.
“No,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice as she moves closer, trying to see what I’m doing. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“Oh, I did.”
I produce a full two sets of plates—one for her and one for me—and she squeals, bouncing on her heels as she claps like a little kid who just got told they’d have free rein in the candy store.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” she chants, and I can’t help but grin. Her reaction is everything I was looking for, making all the hours I spent searching worth it.
Then she does the last thing I ever expected—she throws her arms around me, and my entire world flips on its axis.
She’s hugging me. Chloe is hugging me. My wife is hugging me.
She smells good, like rose water and lilac, and she feels even better. Her soft belly is pressed to me, her hair tickles my nose, and for a second, it feels like the last few years never happened.
Before I can react, it’s over, and I feel emptier than I ever have before as she steps back. It takes everything in me to force myself to return the smile she’s sending my way.
“I can’t believe you found them all,” she says, still marveling over the plates as if I’m not seconds away from hauling her back to me and kissing the hell out of her.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, me either.”
“How? Where?”
“It was in Minnesota, I believe. I had some time before the game and was poking around a thrift shop when I happened across the last one I was missing.” I grab the Pegasus plate and hold it up. “Collection complete.”
She takes the dish from my hand. “It’s marvelous. Perfectly scratched up and used. I love it.”
I would hope so. I got it for her.
We settle into our chairs at the small dining area, and I try not to notice how we go for the same ones we used to sit in before—me with my back toward the door and her opposite me. She always wanted to be able to see if someone broke in.
“You’d still have to fight them off, but I’d be able to warn you,” she tried to rationalize. It didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t make sense now, but I let it happen anyway. I’d do whatever she wanted if it meant spending an evening with her like this.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding about this order,” she says with wide eyes as I try to divvy things up.
“I got extras. I wasn’t sure how hungry you were, but I’m starving. That muffin was the first thing I had all day.”
I pause, fearing I’ve revealed too much, but Chloe just laughs.
“Oh my gosh. Me too. I, uh, I was nervous for today.”
I look over at her as I set a dumpling on her plate. “Really?”
She nods, pushing an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I mean, we haven’t seen each other since…”
“The airport,” I provide, remembering it well.
I didn’t want her to go to London, but I did want her happy, and if that meant a few months apart, then I could do it.
If I had known when I kissed her in the car sitting outside the airport that it would be the last time I saw her for three years, I would have put more into it, would have savored it more. I damn sure would have spent more time memorizing every little detail about her.
I give her two more dumplings, then put a few on my plate and sit back down. We dig into our meal, both lost in thought, and while it’s not an uncomfortable silence that stretches between us, it’s not a comfortable one either. It’s just…there. And we’re just here.
She picks up one of the dumplings, and I watch as she takes a bite. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and the sound that leaves her could rival that of a porno.
“Holy shit,” she says through a mouthful. “This might be the best damn dumpling I’ve ever had, and I’ve had a lot of them.”
I grin. “I thought you might like them.”
“I thought the ones at that little place we used to frequent in New York were the best I’d ever had, but I think I have to change my mind about that.
” She smiles softly. “Remember how the owner—gosh, what was his name? Anyway, he used to always put double in our bag because he knew one wasn’t enough? ”
“Kenny, and yes, I remember. He was the best.”
“He was.” She slaps the table excitedly. “And his wives! We could never figure out which Amy he was talking about.”
“I’m still convinced it was both. There’s no way. They looked nothing alike, but I saw him kissing both.”
She snorts, stabbing her hot and sour noodles with her fork. “You did not. You were drunk.”
“It was the middle of the season. I was perfectly sober, thank you very much. You were drunk.”
“Oh, I definitely was.”
It was our dating anniversary, and we always celebrated it, no matter how many years had passed. Most people only care about the wedding one, but to us, that was just as important. It was the start of our relationship. Why wouldn’t we acknowledge it?
“That was such a fun night,” she says, this time softer, her gaze unfocused on her plate, and I wonder if she’s thinking about how much easier things were back then, too.
There was hardly a time when we weren’t laughing, hardly a moment where we didn’t act like complete fools. It wasn’t like we were irresponsible—we weren’t—we just had fun together. We were friends, then lovers.
Now, I’m not even sure we’re acquaintances.
“One of my favorites,” I tell her, and she finally lifts her head, giving me a small smile.
“Mine too.”
We spend the rest of dinner making light conversation, dipping into the past here and there but mostly keeping it light.
I ask about her travels, and she asks me about hockey.
It’s the easiest things have felt between us, but we’re still just scratching the surface.
Honestly, though, I’m afraid to dig any deeper.
This feels too good. Why mess it up now?
“Okay, I am full.” Chloe pushes her empty plate away, then sinks lower in her chair. “That was officially my favorite meal I’ve had in at least the last six months.”
“What was six months ago?” I ask, grabbing my own bare plate, then stacking it on top of hers and taking them to the sink.
“Date Night.”
The plates fall straight to the floor, and Percy goes flying through the living room and straight toward the spare bedroom at the sudden noise.
“What the…” Chloe leaps out of her chair, rushing toward me. “Callum, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened?”
“I’m fine,” I manage to bite out. “Just…go sit back down.”
She doesn’t listen, instead dropping to her haunches beside me, reaching for the dishes and trash strewn around the kitchen. I’m careful to keep myself far away from her as we clean the mess.
Date night? She’s been dating while I’ve been clinging to whatever scraps she’s given me over the years just to get by? And for what? For an awkward dinner and no real answers? Her hand covers mine, and I couldn’t hide its shakiness if I tried.
“It was with a bunch of girls I bonded with during the internship. We used to meet up every other week and go out. We’d dress up, have dinner, and spend way too much time listening to Taylor Swift. We called it Date Night because we were trying to romanticize our lives. That’s it.”
While her words calm some of the panic coursing through me, they don’t chase away all of it, and that little thread of terror turns into anger, which bubbles right out of me.
“What the fuck are we doing?”
I look up at her to find her mouth agape, her coffee-colored eyes wide. “W-What?”
I shoot to my feet, and she rises along behind me, slower, and it just makes me even more mad because she’s behind. We’re not in sync. We’re not right, and I want to be right again.
“Why am I here, worrying about my fucking wife dating other men? How is that even a possibility? It shouldn’t be because you should be here with me.
You shouldn’t be halfway around the world or wherever the hell it is you’re living now.
” I toss the plates into the sink, the clatter echoing through the apartment, and for a second, I worry about scaring Percy, but I can’t care right now.
I’m finally saying all the things I’ve wanted to say for too long.
“We shouldn’t be exchanging texts every month or two like old high school buds.
We shouldn’t have to guess about anything in each other’s lives.
And we damn sure shouldn’t be tiptoeing around every fucking conversation.
So, again, I ask—what the fuck are we doing? ”
She opens her mouth, then closes it again, and it makes me so fucking mad I could scream. Is she ever going to actually say anything? Will she explain what happened? Will she ever tell me if I’m the only one still in this marriage? I’m tired of guessing. I need to know.
Chloe steps toward me, and I brace myself. I’m not exactly sure what for, but I do it anyway.
This is it. She’s officially ending this.