Repeat - Kylie Scott Page 0,36
wake up to your face every morning. I used to like that.”
I cup the warm mug in my hands, not sure what to say.
“Sometimes on your lunch break you’d go over to The Holy Donut,” he says. “Pick up a box to bring into the parlor. Everyone loved you those days.”
My stomach does some weird upside-down type thing. It’s the sound of his voice, deep and a little rough. Kind of distant, but not in a bad way. As if these memories are good ones for a change. Positive memories that include previous me not being high-maintenance or hellish or something similar. Amazing.
Even so, I feel conflicted about the ease with which he stirs all these emotions and desires within me. I try and keep reminding myself it has all gone south before. True, maybe he didn’t cheat, but there must have been something wrong between us if it was possible for me to believe that he had. Or maybe I wanted out and the cheating accusation was just what I used to escape. Or maybe Ed was getting cold feet about proposing and my accusation was a good excuse to let me go. Either way, there’s a nagging feeling in the back of my brain that I’ve been down this path before and it didn’t end well for either of us.
And I wonder if he’s thinking it too.
“Better get ready or we’ll run out of time,” he says, lifting the coffee to his lips. A clear indication he’s done with this dialogue.
I swallow. “Right. Sure.”
We walk along the waterfront down Commercial Street to get to work. It’s a little longer, but the view is spectacular. The restaurants, hotels, and gift shops. The wharves, boats, and water. I enjoy being in the city and I love the smell of the ocean. Where Frances lives is nice, but it’s not like this. Here there’s a rush, a vitality, and loads of character. About what you’d expect for an old seaport with plenty of history.
Conversation goes back to being stilted following my question, but for once I don’t mind. It’s like we’re making actual progress on moving past him not liking me. Maybe. It would be foolish to get carried away. There’s a moment when he leaves me at the shop and pauses sort of leaning into me for a second. Like perhaps he was going to kiss me goodbye. Probably a leftover response from our coupledom days. I wouldn’t have said no to a kiss, even something chaste and friendly-like on the cheek. It probably would have made things awkward for him, however.
So no kissing accidental or otherwise is best.
Frances comes in to visit. Interestingly enough, this occasion has less of a supervisory feel and more of a sisterly affection vibe for once. It’s nice. We have lunch at an amazing oyster place on the waterfront. Iris even closes up the shop to come with us. Apparently she does this occasionally when cabin fever starts to settle in and she needs to get away from the books for an hour or two. With a few drinks in her, my boss tells the most amazing stories about her various ex-husbands. Despite having one die, one cheat, and one come out of the closet, she remains a hopeful romantic at heart. Currently, she’s seeing the owner of a gelato shop a block over. He’s a dapper Sicilian gent who’s apparently killer in the sack—a detail I didn’t need to know.
A little after six, Ed arrives to take me home. My insides sort of swoop at the sight of him. The want to not inconvenience him wars constantly within me against the need to be around him. If he knew, he’d be even quieter, more guarded. And he’s being pretty damn silent as it is. I can barely get a word out of him. We pick up some more takeout, tacos this time. Turns out, I fucking love tacos. Then back at the condo, I watch another movie while he works. A pity. Because despite the whole clear division of areas on the couch and required physical space between us the night before, I enjoyed experiencing the movie with him. But tonight, not even Gordy’s interested in hanging out with me. Maybe I smell funny or something.
“Oh my God.” I sigh when it’s over, relaxing back on the couch with my stress cushion still clutched tight against my chest. “I loved that movie so much.”
“Yeah?” Ed sits at the table, drawing on a computer