Thirty-five and Single

His eyes darken, and I consider calling the fire department for the proverbial smoke curling out his ears. “You want to sleep with other guys?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. But I want the chance to make that decision for myself.”

“You didn’t sleep with that Joel guy?”

I hold his gaze and feel really tired. Maybe months ago I would have thrown it in his face that I’d had the best sex of my life with a really great guy, but now I don’t. I know this man, and I love him still on some level. So there’s no malice when I gently say, “That’s really none of your business.”

“Jesus, Olivia, what’s happened to us?”

I could so easily point the finger at him, but I prove how mature I’ve become. “We’ve grown up. Maybe our parents were right and we shouldn’t have gotten married so young.”

“Are you saying that people who dated in high school shouldn’t marry?”

Patience, I tell myself.

“Of course not. I’m talking about us, not the rest of the population. It didn’t work for us, otherwise you wouldn’t have found it necessary to sleep with other people.”

He doesn’t correct my use of the plural. I wait for the hurt to come.

“I’m sorry, Olivia. I made a mistake.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“So let’s try.”

I let the pause grow into silence before I answer him again.

“We should try, but not together. We should date other people, move on. If it’s meant to be, we’ll find each other again.”

In no way am I trying to sound poetic. But there it is.

“How long?”

There’s something desperate in his question, and a crack begins to form in my heart. I answer before I lose my nerve.

“I don’t know. A year or so…”

“So in a year, you’ll come back to me?”

His voice comes out rough and broken, sounding more lost than I’ve ever heard him.

“I’m not saying that. In a year, you might have moved on, or maybe I will have. But I need this time to figure out what I want and who I am without you.”

“I fucked up, didn’t I, Livvy?” I don’t answer. “Can you at least let me try to win you back? Can I take you out on a date or something?”

“I don’t know. Certainly not any time soon.”

“But maybe?”

There is so much hope there, I nod in agreement. “Just not in the next several months, please.”

The lunch with Corey leaves me in such a fog, I don’t hear anything Cara and Janet say as they hover around my desk animatedly talking. In fact, the next few days until my date with Paul go by without notice except for one thing. I haven’t seen or heard a peep from Joel since the day of his date with Cara, and I have to assume he’s avoiding me.

Chapter Twelve

I limp up the stairs, growling the whole way. I’m sure all I need is a pirate hat and the clothes to match to finish off my Long John Silver impression. Oh, that, and a parrot. Maybe I should get one. I’m pretty certain dating is off the table for me.

“Olivia.”

I glance up into impossibly blue eyes which remind me of the sky on a clear, sunny day. In their depths is kindness and everything that made me love him as a friend.

“Joel.”

Swiftly, he’s got me supported under my arm and pulls my keys from my hand as we walk the several feet to my apartment. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him, or so it feels like. I say nothing as he helps me inside to sit on my couch and immediately gets some ice into a bag for me.

“What happened?” he finally asks.

I sigh while he plants himself on my coffee table to sit right in front of me. He extends my injured leg to rest beside him and places the ice on my ankle before he speaks.

“Everything,” I mutter. “I think I’ve decided I don’t want kids, but maybe a parrot instead.”

His face screws up in confusion.

“Never mind.” I fall back to let my eyes aim at the ceiling while cushioning my back against the sofa.

“I know things have been weird, but if you want to talk, I’m here.”

I blink and remember all the times over the past year that we shared our secrets—little bits of our lives that wouldn’t interest anyone else. And I ruined that by sleeping with him. Maybe if I just tell him, our friendship can get back on track.

“I went out on a date.” I expel air from my lungs and summon the courage to explain the rest.

Unwilling to look at him, I have no idea what he’s thinking when he says nothing for longer than a pause.

“How’d it go?”

“Great.” I sound sarcastic when, in reality, everything had gone well.

“But…”

I suck in a deep breath, knowing I am going to sound slutty with my next breath even though I had no plans to sleep with the guy.