Sinead O’Hara was important to him, and he would be sad when she was no longer in his life. It was a powerful feeling knowing that.
“I’m in deep too,” she whispered, and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Let’s do this. I’ll go home tonight and chill, and then tomorrow I’ll come back and we’ll pretend I didn’t ask you what I did. We’ll go back to how things were and just take it day by day. Can we do that?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she let out in a rush of what felt like desperation.
He walked to her and cupped her cheeks gently in his palms. “Okay, my lovely, then we’ll do that.”
She smiled and nodded. “I have to work tomorrow night but can we…”
“Do lunch? Absolutely. Why don’t you swing by here at 4:00 and get me?”
“Okay. I’ll come for you then.” She leaned in to kiss him, but then he was kissing her and it was fierce and intense and it made her want to whimper.
When he pulled back he looked straight into her eyes. “You know I don’t want to hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. She did. Because she didn’t want to hurt him, but apparently she was going to as well. An affair, a great one, but it was going to end in broken hearts for both of them.
Just not tomorrow. And maybe not the next day. Because every day counted and she wasn’t going to waste another minute wondering when it was going to end.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Goodbye my lovely Sinead, who spells her name correctly.”
* * *
Sinead called for an Uber and waited outside because she didn’t want to have to hear him say goodbye again.
The entire drive home, she felt a weight sinking in her stomach. Like she had done something wrong. Like she’d had this precious glass vase in her hand and she had squeezed too hard and broken it.
Why had she done that? Why had she ruined perfection with… reality?
Because she was a girl who lived in reality. The reality of cancer, the reality of a father destroyed emotionally, then professionally. The reality of mildly okay sex, awkward blind dating and a fairly boring job.
She didn’t really protect and serve. She mostly gave out speeding tickets and stopped teenagers from having parties when their parents were gone.
She was gray and David was all the colors.
All of them.
And she’d made him sad.
She thanked the driver but didn’t tip because the rules were you weren’t supposed to tip but she always felt guilty about not tipping which is why she didn’t like Uber. She opened the gate to the complex, listened to the familiar creak of metal and then made her way through the courtyard.
It felt like she’d been gone for years, not weeks. Passing the courtyard she had the thought like she did every time—why didn’t the management just fill the damn pool? Take care of it? Make it look like it was supposed to look? Instead of a place where only people who had hit bottom in their life lived?
Make it be the best it could be.
David would fill it. If she asked him to make that happen, he would find a way to do it. She would say it one day. It would happen the next. She would be astounded and amazed but by now she would not be surprised.
He would do anything for her. Deep in her soul she knew that.
And you broke it.
She walked up the stairs to the second level of the apartment complex and stood outside number 2B. She wanted to open the door by kicking it as hard as she could over and over again. That was the level of anger she felt at herself, at the universe.
Why did it give her something so good when it knew it was going to take it away?
That’s exactly what it had done to her with her mother, and she obviously hadn’t learned her lesson.
The universe had given her David. The universe was going to take him away.
Or was it?
He said he was falling in love. She was certainly falling in love.
Idiot. Of course you’re in love with him. No sane woman wouldn’t be. Hell, Cherise was in love with him and he hadn’t even fucked her.
Sinead went through the motions of putting her key in the lock and turning it. That was their agreement. If they were home, or not, the lock always had to be engaged. She was the lone cop among residents who did not like cops.
She knew this, because when she was in uniform there were a few who were always careful not to make eye contact when they passed her on the landings and stairs. And she was never asked to hang by the empty pool. Still, they had all silently reached an agreement. She didn’t bother them. They didn’t bother her. Still she took some basic precautions and made her father do the same.
Because that was the reality of her life. Not what these last few weeks had been. A crooked father, a shady complex, an empty pool.