“What a coincidence.” She looked at Desmond. “You’re just collecting all the Natalies and Natalias in Dallas, huh?”
Desmond shrugged. I think he had a faint hint of a blush when she said that.
“Let me take a look at your leg,” she said, squatting down to take a look at it. “Mind telling me what happened.”
“I… uh… was headed to my car, and just took a tumble.” I looked away, avoiding eye contact with Desmond, praying he wouldn’t expose the truth: That I had made a complete ass of myself at dinner on our first date. That my acting like a crazy woman on this first date resulted in me busting my buns running to the car. And that he ended up being my knight in shining armor when I couldn’t get up.
Natalie examined it gingerly. Desmond stood close by, looking over her shoulder as she worked. I did my best to observe the two of them without seeming obvious. I was looking for signs of interest between them, because it just wouldn’t make sense for two gorgeous people to not be lovers.
“Well, the good news is it’s not broken.” Natalie said. “But you do have a nasty sprain.” She went to her apartment, came back with an ace bandage and other supplies and wrapped my ankle up. “You should be fine in a couple of days. Until then, do your best to stay off your feet and keep your ankle iced and elevated as much as possible.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. Staying in bed for a couple of days beat wearing crutches or setting broken bones. “Thank you, Dr. Natalie.”
“Not a problem.” She smiled at Desmond and I. “I’ll let you guys get back to your evening. I’m sorry your date was ruined by such a fall, but it might be good luck.”
“Tuh!” I said. The irony. “I fall all the time. Nothing lucky here.”
“You never know.” She stepped outside and Desmond went with her. I looked at my ankle, which was wrapped, yet still throbbing and wondered about my dumb luck. Texting Rose, I sent her a picture of my foot, informing her it was just a nasty sprain and that I’d be home soon.
Good. I have to talk to you! She replied. She inserted one of those extremely happy-faced emoji’s. I sent her a few silly ones in return.
Desmond re-entered, closed the door, and locked it behind him. Walking over to the couch, he sat down next to me, patted me on the leg and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m much better now,” I affirmed. I took a deep breath, and exhaled. “Thank you. Just send me the bill when she invoices you. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’re welcome, and she’s not going to invoice me.” He stretched his back reflexively against the couch. “Her husband and I are frat brothers.”
I prayed he didn’t notice the sigh of relief on my face. No wonder she was so comfortable.
“May I ask you a question?” He looked at me. “What happened at the restaurant? Why did you leave like that?”
I swallowed. How could I answer that? Fiddling with my fingers, I tried to come up with a suitable answer, but failed to speak. Instead of being moved, Desmond looked at me, patiently searching me for a response.
“It’d be a long story,” I admitted.
“We’re here. I’m here. I don’t mind listening.” He wrapped an arm around me, leaning in close. “Besides, I think you owe me after this eventful evening.”
I took a deep breath. “You have anything to drink?”
***
I filled Desmond completely in on my situation. I let him know about Hollis, our longstanding love affair that started when we were teenagers, and how I thought we’d be together forever. I told him about the way my parents had abandoned me, and my mother’s death.
I spared no detail telling him about my desire to expand our family, and the little girl I’d always wanted. I spoke of the emotional callousness that occurred in my relationship, and finding out that my husband, indeed, was having an affair.
“They knew specific details about his privates, and his habits, that they couldn’t have known without having been with him.”
“How did he find time to cheat with her? And why would he want to? You’re beautiful.” Desmond clearly looked confused by Hollis’s behavior.
My bottom lip trembled. “It… wasn’t a she that he was cheating with. His mistress… is a man.”
Time seemed to freeze between us as I revealed that. A million thoughts swarmed in my head. Was I giving away too much information? Or was I letting loose what he needed to know? Did he deserve to know? Was it too early to share this?
“Wow…” he said, finally responding. “And that’s who your son – Jordan? – was talking about when he said your ex-husband had company in your home already?”