over his chest. It totally reminded me of something I’d have done at his age. I gave the man a smile and an all-good gesture, and he telegraphed his thanks.
The kid stood next to me solemnly for a few minutes, and when Father Mike asked his congregation to share peace with one another, he turned to me and offered his hand. I shook it, and right afterward, he scooted back toward his family. I watched him go, and then noticed for the first time that Bianca was standing on the far side of the church, at the back, in the same row I was.
Our eyes met for ten full seconds, and I couldn’t breathe. She looked toward the altar again, wiping her eyes. My chest felt like an eighteen-wheeler had parked on it.
A moment later, we lined up for Holy Communion, and when I got back to my row, I fully planned on going to sit next to her. Taking her hand. Whispering in her ear and asking for another chance.
But when I looked for her, she was gone.
Dejected, I snuck out of church, went home, changed my clothes, and spent the rest of the day at the Center Avenue house.
Thinking of her every second. Missing her fiercely. Wishing she was there to argue with me, tell me I was removing the wallpaper wrong or bought the wrong color paint or chose the wrong light fixture or bathroom tile. I trusted my taste, but hers was better, and I hated that we weren’t doing this together anymore. I hated the thought of another night without her. I hated the thought of my life without her. I wanted what I’d seen in church today—a messy, beautiful life with her by my side.
At five o’clock I called it a day and drove over to Griffin and Blair’s apartment. I felt like I needed some advice.
Blair answered the door, looking surprised to see me and not all that pleased about it. I figured she’d probably heard about my showing up at Bianca’s place last night.
“Hey,” I said. “Griffin here?”
“No. He’s at the store.” She studied my face and seemed to soften a little. “But he should be back any minute.”
“Can I come in? I really need to talk to you guys.”
She hesitated, but then gave in. “Okay.”
I entered the stairwell and started up the steps. “I take it you’ve talked to Bianca today.”
“Yes,” she said, following behind me.
At the top of the stairs, I turned to face her. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”
She reached the landing and looked me dead in the eye. “Yes.”
Frowning, I ran a hand over my jaw. “I need advice, Blair. I’m fucking miserable.”
“I can tell. You look like you haven’t eaten or slept in days.”
“I’m not sure I have.”
She parked her hands on her hips. “Stay for dinner. Want a beer?”
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
She went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, popping off the cap. Just as she handed it to me, we heard the door slam downstairs, and Griffin appeared at the top of the steps with a grocery bag a moment later.
“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
Blair took the bag from her husband. “He came for advice, but I need to feed him too. He looks awful.”
Griffin looked at me. “What’s going on?”
I took a drink. “I fucked up with Bianca.”
“Again?” He headed over to the fridge and pulled out a beer for himself. “I thought she broke things off last weekend.”
“She did. But I went over there last night to give her some things she’d left at my house, and maybe try to talk to her, and it didn’t go well.”
“That’s because you tried to do more than talk,” put in Blair, chopping garlic with her back to us.
Griffin looked at me. “Is that true?”
“Uh, yeah. My approach might have been a problem.”
Blair sent me a look over one shoulder. “You think?”
“Well, I couldn’t help myself,” I said defensively. “I miss her, and I was all worked up because her brother had told me some bullshit about her going out every night, and I was picturing her talking to guys and getting jealous.” I stopped and shook my head, thumping my chest. “Me! Getting jealous of other guys!”
Griffin laughed. “What is the world coming to?”
“Fuck off. I’m not used to this, okay? I don’t like missing her. I don’t like this feeling.”
“What’s the feeling?” he asked, leaning back against the counter.
“I don’t even know what to call it, but it’s horrible. It