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And somehow, realizing she might never feel that way again was more painful than believing she was incapable of feeling it to begin with.
With a deep breath, Lauren walked back to the stove. She shouldn’t be thinking about that night with Michael.
She shouldn’t be thinking about Michael at all, for that matter.
And with that, she picked up the cutting board and slid the chopped vegetables into the pan, letting the subsequent sizzle temporarily wash away the two men who were battling for control of her thoughts.
She ate her di
With a little lump of dread in her stomach, Lauren leaned over and checked the display. When she saw that it was Je
She didn’t feel like having this conversation either, but there was no avoiding it. If she sent Je
With a tiny sigh, Lauren hit the button to take the call, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued rinsing dishes.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Just cleaning up from di
“Driving home from a late meeting. Total pain in my ass,” Je
Lauren took a breath. Might as well get it over with. “Yes.”
“You did!” Je
A tiny laugh escaped Lauren’s lips.
“Sooo, how was it? Worth the wait?”
She knew what Je
“I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Lauren said as she closed the door to the dishwasher.
“No!” Je
“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just…not what I expected.”
“So? It was your first time with him! You need a little time to learn each other. Give the poor guy a break.”
“It’s not about the sex,” Lauren said. “It’s more about…I don’t know. The co
“The co
“I just, I d@he didleasion’t feel it. I can’t keep sleeping with a guy I don’t feel co
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and for a second, Lauren thought maybe Je
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?” Lauren said, confused.
“You’re doing it again. Only this time it’s worse. You’re not doing it because of him. You’re doing it for him.”
Lauren shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
This was not how this conversation usually went. Je
“Really? You’re go
Lauren opened her mouth to respond, but nothing would come out.
“You’re falling in love with him again, aren’t you.”
It was more of a statement than a question, like she didn’t need Lauren’s answer to confirm it.
“I knew this was going to happen!” Je
“So what if I am?” Lauren blurted out. She didn’t even know if there was any truth to what Je
“You’re really asking me that?” Je
Lauren ripped the phone from her ear and ended the call, slamming it down onto the counter. She didn’t want to hear anymore. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to be scolded like a child.
The phone rang again, and she lunged forward, swiping it from the counter.
“What?” she shouted.
“Whoa. Is this a bad time?”
Lauren dropped her head and exhaled heavily.
“Sorry,” she said, bringing her hand to her forehead. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Well shit,” Michael said with a laugh. “I’m glad I’m not whoever you were expecting.”
Lauren sighed, trying to regain her composure.
“Hey,” he said, his voice turning serious. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not.”
When Lauren didn’t respond, Michael asked, “Are you home?”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
Lauren whipped her head up. “No, no, don’t do that.”
But he’d already hung up.
She stared at the phone for a second before she dropped her head back, her arms falling limply to her sides. “Fantastic,” she exhaled at the ceiling.
She tossed her phone onto the counter, vowing to never answer it again for as long as she lived, and then she padded across the ki { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: hi"> shouldertchen and opened her refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Kendall Jackson.
She poured herself a glass, holding it up in a one-sided toast. “To complete and utter dysfunction,” she said, taking almost half of it down.
By the time there was a knock on her door, Lauren was already on her second glass.
“Come in,” she called from where she sat on the living room floor.
She heard the door open, and she turned her head to see him standing in the entryway.
“You didn’t have to come here.”
“I know that,” he said, removing his jacket.
Lauren nodded, looking down to run her finger along the top of her wine glass. “Where’s Erin?”
“She ditched me tonight,” he said, laying his jacket over a chair before he walked into the living room. “She’s having a girls’ night with our neighbor.”
“That’s sweet,” Lauren said. “I didn’t know you had a little girl next door.”
Michael laughed. “Little girl? Mrs. Brigante is sixty years old. Apparently girls’ nights have no age restrictions. But still, no boys allowed.”
Lauren laughed, taking another sip of wine.
“So, whatever it is, it must be pretty bad if you’re drinking alone.”
Lauren shrugged. “Well then go get a glass and make me a little less pathetic.”
He smiled down at her sympathetically, and then he turned and made his way into the kitchen. She heard him opening cabinets until he found the right one, and then he walked back into the living room and sat on the floor next to her with his back up against the couch.
Lauren leaned over and grabbed the bottle, pouring some into his glass. For a minute, they just sat next to each other in silence.
Then Lauren said, “This is oddly familiar. Only it used to be whiskey.”
Michael smiled. “And it used to be straight out of the bottle. We’ve classed it up a bit, apparently.”
Lauren laughed. “And it used to be you that was being consoled.”
“Yeah, well. That’s because I was always the fuck-up.”
“No, it was because you always dated whores.”
Michael smiled half-heartedly, looking down at his glass. “Not all of them were.”
She turned her head to look at him, realizing how offensive that last comment must have been. One of those women had been the mother of his child.
“Will you tell me about Erin’s mom?” she asked softly.
Michael licked his lips, his eyes still on his glass. “There’s not that much to tell. Her name’s Samantha. I met her at a party. She was a friend of a friend and we just…clicked,” he said, lifting his glass and taking a long sip.
When he didn’t continue, Lauren said, “So what happened?”