Chapter 8 #2
“Involved? That’s presumptuous.”
I chuckle. “Well, it’s not like I was asking her out just for a hookup. I mean, I’m not saying I want to marry the woman but I would actually like to get to know her. Spend time with her. Talk with her some more.”
“Shit, man. I’ve never seen you actually interested in anyone. I know you’ve hooked up with chicks every once in a while, but you’ve never gone past casual. Not in the three years I’ve known you.”
Leo and I are friends, but he doesn’t know my history. We’ve never delved into the past — there’s really no need.
“Yeah. I haven’t been really interested in anyone since my ex, and we split … six years ago? Seven? I don’t know, it’s been a long time though.” If I brush off Laura like she wasn’t a big deal, maybe Leo will leave this topic alone.
“You’re divorced? How did I not know this? Why didn’t you say anything when I walked through that shit? Misery loves company and all.”
Leo and his ex-wife, Stephanie, split two years ago after she reconnected with her high school boyfriend through social media and decided he was the love of her life.
She acted like it was some romance novel kismet shit, when really she just drove a knife through Leo’s heart and abandoned her marriage.
“I’m not divorced,” I explain. “I met Laura in grad school and a few years later we got engaged, lived together for a few years, then split. There’s no big story to tell — we just wanted different things and went our separate ways.”
“How many years are we talking?”
“Shit. I don’t know. I haven’t thought about her in a long time. I guess I was, what, twenty-three when we got together? So, seven years?”
Leo looks shocked by my revelation. “That’s a long fucking time to be with someone and not marry them. And to just all of a sudden ‘go your separate ways’.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I dunno. We were in school, then I was working on my PhD and she was building her career. It’s a good thing we didn’t get married otherwise the split would have been messy.
We didn’t have to go through lawyers and split assets or anything.
She just packed her stuff and moved out, started her new life somewhere else, and I kept the apartment and continued working on my doctorate.
She wasn’t crazy or anything. Like I said, we just wanted different things. ”
Nevermind the fact that I didn’t have a say in whether or not our relationship ended. She informed me of her decision before work one morning, and when I got home that evening she was gone — left her keys on the entryway table. No note. No phone call. No text. Nada.
It’s not like the end of that relationship ruined my life, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me.
She never explained exactly what she wanted that was different from the life we had.
I would have been willing to compromise and adjust our lives to accommodate her wants and needs, but up until that very morning I honestly believed that she was happy — that we were happy. Obviously, I was wrong.
Leo sees straight through my feigned nonchalance. “Just wanted different things. No biggie. And the end of that relationship has nothing to do with your decision to not get serious about another woman for the last six years.”
“Look, man, it’s not that the breakup didn’t hurt, but I also haven’t spent the last six years avoiding relationships because of some tragic heartbreak.
When Laura left I focused all my energy on finishing my PhD, then on finding a faculty position while doing adjunct work, and then moving here and starting a new life in Grand River.
I didn’t know anyone here and it’s not like I’d have ever gone to a bar without you dragging me there.
I’m surrounded by faculty members and young college coeds. When was I supposed to meet someone?”
Leo gives me a WTF look. “You have heard of this new invention called the Internet, yes? Dating apps?”
“I know those apps and whatever else are appealing to you and the other guys, but I dunno. I’m just not into it.” I leave out my surprise that after the plethora of hookups Leo’s had in the last two years, I’m surprised he hasn’t caught an STI from his app women.
“And then there’s Savannah …” Leo wiggles his eyebrows and smiles devilishly as he brings up Savannah Martin, the thirty-five-year-old psychology professor who has wanted to ride my dick since she met me three years ago.
I give Leo an annoyed glare. “You’re fucking kidding me, right?”
“She’s hot, man. She’s single. And she wants you.” Leo’s smirking like I should get on that, stat.
Hell to the no. “And she’s a walking red flag. I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole.”
“Red flag? What the hell is wrong with you? She’s a dime.” Leo has apparently spent too much time in the Tinderverse. His judgment is skewed and he no longer recognizes the metaphorical red, flashing WARNING sign that hovers above Savannah’s head every time she enters a room.
“You’re joking, right?” I start to count off on my fingers.
“She has no concept of personal space — proven by the who-knows-how-many times she’s grazed my dick with her hand or her hip; she has crazy eyes; she’s about as subtle as a pit bull; she thrives off the attention she gets from her tight-ass clothing; we have absolutely nothing in common; and we work together — I don’t shit where I eat. ”
“Yet, you want to fuck your grader.” Just when I think he’s lost his marbles, he calls me out on my own blind spots.
“Dammit, Leo. You know what I mean. I knew five minutes after meeting Savannah that she’d be a good time for a few nights but that’s it.
I’d tell her from the beginning I didn’t want anything serious and she’d say she wanted the same thing, but whenever I ended our hookups she’d freak the fuck out as if we were in some sort of exclusive relationship.
Stage five clinger, that one. No thanks.
I wasn’t about to deal with the aftermath of sleeping with a coworker who might be a good lay, but would cause a shit ton of drama when it was over. Not worth it.”
Leo rubs his chin. “Yeah, I guess I see what you mean. But what if you hooked up with your grader, it didn’t go anywhere, and then you had to see her all the time? That doesn’t seem worth the risk either.”
I blow out a breath, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter if it’s worth the risk or not, because she shut me down, twice.”
“Third time’s a charm?” Leo’s eyes are full of mischief as he smirks at me.
Why again did I choose to confide in him about this? “You do know that you’re giving mixed signals, right?”
“Definitely. That’s what friends are for.”
I shake my head again and stand, gathering up my trash so we can head out. “Right. Friends aren’t meant to help clarify jumbled thoughts, but to stir the pot of confusion even more.”
Leo may not give the best advice, but telling him about Alis at least helped to get some of the thoughts out of my head so I could better sort through them.
I know I haven’t been seriously interested in a woman since Laura, until I met Alis.
She’s gorgeous, witty, intelligent — but aside from her attributes we just, clicked.
I can’t remember the last time I wanted to continue a conversation with a woman or the last time I spent the week after meeting someone thinking about them constantly.
Not even half an hour with Alis that night and I wanted more.
More of her attention. More of her words.
More of her thoughts. More of her lips. More of her.
However, it seems the connection was one-sided, if her double rejection is anything to go by.
No. I know for a fact she wanted me the night we met. You can’t fake chemistry like ours.
Either way, she said no. I’ve gone six years without pining for a woman, and that’s just what Alis is — a woman.
Surely this sudden infatuation will fade. No need to be concerned. I’ve got this.