Push(65)
Where do I go from here?
“Well, if it makes it any better, I hate myself for making you feel all those things.” And I do.
“I wouldn’t feel all that, Emma, if I didn’t give a flying fuck about you.” That’s it! I didn’t tell him I’m falling for him. I told him I give a flying fuck about him. But somehow the realization does not make me feel better. “There is something about us together, Emma. Something so...irrational. It’s almost absurd. Last night was completely out of control. I felt so out of control. And that’s what I hated the most.” He looks troubled. Really troubled. I’ve never seen him so unsettled, and it hurts me to know that I am the cause of it.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”
We are both quiet for a long time. He is brushing my hair with his hand, wiping it back off my face and neck. Smoothing it. Smoothing us. He lies down next to me, and we both fall asleep.
* * *
I spend Thursday and Friday at the office trying to make amends with Matt. He tells me over and over again not to worry about it. That I didn’t do anything wrong. Getting drunk and puking is not a crime, and he’s glad he could help out a couple of friends. He even apologizes that he couldn’t tell me about knowing David. I joke with him about what a jerk he was to ask me questions about David when he probably knows more about him than I do. I keep waiting for the ball to drop. For him to crack some smart-ass joke about it. For him to say something to the other guys at work. But he doesn’t. He keeps quiet about the whole thing. He doesn’t even comment on the shower situation. Nothing. Until the end of the day on Friday.
Matt and I are riding down in the elevator together. I know that David is waiting for me at his car because, except for working hours, he hasn’t let me out of his sight since I got the dog tags from Michael. Matt is looking up at the changing digital numbers above the elevator door.
“Tuesday night was pretty crazy,” he says. Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.
“That it was,” I say as calmly as possible.
“Do you remember everything?”
“No, but David has filled me in on some of the more embarrassing details.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” he says with a heaping pile of innuendo, “especially since he wasn’t there to see most of them himself.” He turns his head toward me, and my eyes shoot to his. Panic rises in my throat, but I decide to make light of it all. I don’t know if he’s joking or not. Either way, teasing me about it is a complete dick move.
“Yes, I’m sure you got an eyeful. Are you going to share?” I say.
“I didn’t tell him everything that happened, Emma. Because if I did, you and I wouldn’t be standing here right now.” I am mortified. “I would be dead in the gutter, and you and David would be screwing on some beach in Cozumel.” What?
“What the hell are you talking about?” We are nearly to the lobby now, and I do not want to have this conversation with anyone else in earshot. When the elevator gets to the lobby, I press the door close button and hold it down tight.
Apparently Matt is not joking. I must have put on quite the show. “I’m talking about all the stuff you don’t remember. You were pretty fucking hysterical, Emma. Going on and on about how much David likes the blue panties you were wearing. You took all your clothes off so you could show them to me. You danced around in them for me. He would kill me if he knew I didn’t stop you.” He is right.
“And the whole time you were prancing around, you were talking about David and how bad you have it for him,” he continues.
Ugh. “Thanks for not telling him all this. It’s a little humiliating.”
“I’m not trying to humiliate you, Emma. I’m trying to enlighten you. He never would have dreamed of bringing a woman to poker before—and he sure as shit wouldn’t have sat outside her office building waiting to drive her home after work every day.” Matt’s eyebrows go up, and his mouth moves into a soft pucker. It is a look intended to hammer home his point.
“Oh,” I sigh, unsure of what else I should say.
“Look, I’m just saying that I think he’s got it bad for you, too. I think you guys fit.” This is not how I expected our conversation to go. I feel relief. But also trepidation. I am reminded of my conversation with Matt about David looking like a man with food poisoning versus a man in love. Did Matt know something even then? What had David already told him? I want to ask him, but there is no way in hell I’m stepping out on that limb.
I lift my finger from the elevator button, and the door opens. We step out of the building together and into the courtyard. David isn’t waiting by the car. He is sitting on a bench opposite the building’s front door. When he sees us come out, he gets up and walks over. Just before he reaches us, Matt grins at me and tells me to have a nice weekend. I smile back at him and tell him to do the same.