Dear Future Ex-wife

A silence fills the air. Harley sniffs on the other side of the door, and I feel like a piece of shit for putting her through this. She’s crying because of me. How can I make this situation better for her?

You can give her the wedding she wants.

You can be her Mr. Darcy.

“Hey, Will,” Harley says to her roommate, now sounding less sad. “Yeah, I’m okay. I need to ask you something important.” A second passes and then she says, “Will you be one of my bridesmaids?”

I’ve met Willow Duvall a few times since Harley moved to Los Angeles. Her roommate is an interesting woman, the typical California Valley Girl but not so plastic. I like that Willow really understands Harley and embraces all of her quirks. Harley doesn’t have many friends who get her, so I was happy when she met Willow at an art gallery and they hit it off.

I never stopped keeping tabs on Harley. She could be two continents away, and I would find a way to know how she’s doing. I never stopped caring about my best friend.

I’m about to walk away when Harley says, “This is Nate we’re talking about. How do you think it’s going?” She laughs. “Yeah, he’s hot. I’d have to be blind not to notice.” More laughter. “He’s not making this easy for me. I wish he would stop touching me.” She groans, speaking through a fit of laughter. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I like it when he touches me, okay?”

I knew it.

“No, I’m not,” Harley challenges. “You can make all the bets you want, but I’m not having sex with Nate.” More silence. “It doesn’t matter if I want to bone him. And don’t say bone. It’s gross.”

Harley lets out a throaty chuckle, and I have to cover my mouth to stifle my laughter. She’s such a prude. I can hear how uncomfortable talking about sex makes her. Though, she’s never had a hard time shooting down my advances, making smart comments in response.

“Oh, my God, Will,” Harley moans. “I’m not asking him for a dick pic. No, you pirate hooker. Go ask someone on Tinder for one.”

I rest my head back against the wall and finish my drink, laughing to myself as Harley yells at Willow. She sounds so at ease with her that it makes me a little jealous. Harley doesn’t have to force her interactions with Willow. She can be herself, lower her guard. I need to get her to that point with me. I want her to be this comfortable around me, like the old days.

“How would you know how big Nate is?” Harley lowers her voice once she realizes she yelled her question into the phone. “What picture of him in shorts? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She makes a shuffling sound and then says, “Okay. I’m on my laptop. Send it to me.”

What the hell are they talking about? I don’t remember anyone posting an image of me wearing shorts.

“Whoa,” Harley says, stunned. “You were right. Jesus. Holy shit… Nate… wow.”

I smirk at her comments. Wait until you see it in person, Harley baby.

She bursts into a fit of laughter. “Absolutely not! He is not putting his king in my castle, and if you ever make that reference again, I’m going to fly back to LA and kick your ass. Gah! Shut up! I’m not asking him that. No way in hell.”

I’m dying to know what they’re talking about now. Pressing my ear to the door, I hold my breath, hoping she doesn’t hear the wood creak beneath my feet.

It’s silent again. Oh, shit. She knows I’m listening.

“I wish I could hate him,” Harley says with a sigh. “But it’s Nate. I just wish he was still my Nate, you know.”

My Nate. Did she really think of me that way?

“I like nerdy Nate.” She groans. “Yeah, but he’s not the same person.”

Yes, I am.

She has no idea how wrong she is about me. The side of me she likes is still in here, hiding from the rest of the world. If she wants the old Nate back, then that’s what Harley will get.

Standing in front of the stove, I flip Harley’s eggs on the griddle. The toaster pops as I remove two plates from the cabinet. I made a big pot of coffee and even freshly squeezed the orange juice just how Harley likes it. I want her to feel comfortable in my apartment. This is her home now, too.

I’ve never made a woman breakfast, but I guess there’s a first time for everything. After our blowout last night, I decided to turn over a new leaf for Harley. I want to be a better man, the man she needs in her life. She’s giving up a lot to be here for me. And after years of waiting to get her back, I’m not going to ruin the shot I have with her.