Phil
I pulled up outside Emily’s place, cleared my throat and then dove in. “I think we need to end things between us.”
“Again?” she asked, her voice dry and mocking.
At Christmas, when Emily said she was in love with me, I tried to do the right thing and break up with her. I really liked her, but I didn’t feel the same way. She didn’t seem that upset but it was always hard to tell since she hid her feelings well. To my relief, it was a pretty uneventful parting.
The next week, she asked if we could meet for a drink. She said she had a proposal for me. Once we were settled at the bar, Emily laid things out in her best courtroom tone. “I understand that we’re not in the same place, but I think you’ve got some relationship issues. I’m not going to get into that though.”
Thank God. I hated being psychoanalyzed by women. It always seemed to hinge on my lack of commitment to them and why the fuck that might be. That was what I had enjoyed about Emily: she was a little older, busy with work, and relatively angst-free.
“Anyway, I know you’re not in Vancouver that much longer, and we are very compatible.” She ran her hand over my bicep as she said that. We did have a good time in bed; Emily was very open and up for anything. She continued, “I was thinking that we could be fuck-buddies.”
I laughed at her candidness. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s going to work. You already told me how you feel, Emily. It’s not fair to you.” While she might think she was being original, I’d seen this scenario before. Maintaining a relationship with someone who was already in love with you could only lead to disaster.
“I’m different than other women, Phil. I can compartmentalize my life. I enjoy having sex with you, and you like it too. So why not?”
I shook my head again. Emily had a big sip of her cocktail. “That’s fine. I guess I blew everything by saying the L-word. There was something about you that weekend, a vulnerability I’d never seen before. I thought it was us, but perhaps it had to do with Kelly?”
I was startled to hear Emily mention Kelly’s name. Either Emily was extra observant, or I wasn’t hiding my emotions as well as I assumed.
“I don’t want to talk about Kelly,” I said. “I never talk about old girlfriends.”
“That’s good to know.” Emily smiled and finished her martini. Her pink tongue darted out as she licked the swizzle stick. I felt my cock stirring. She seemed to realize this and rubbed my thigh. “I do admire you for being so noble, but I’m a big girl and I know what I want. You’ve got my number—anytime you want to fuck, or even talk—I’m around. I know how late you work, and I work even later.”
She got up from her barstool. I reached for my wallet, but she put her hand on mine. “I already paid, babe. I invited you out.” She kissed my cheek and whispered, “Don’t forget—fucking is a great stress reliever.”
I didn’t call Emily for weeks after that. I knew it couldn’t work out. Then one night, after a week of overtime, a huge snafu on the site, and some dumb web surfing, I weakened. Emily was completely casual as she invited me over.
“Bad day?” she asked. She offered me snack mix and a trendy craft beer. I took the beer, as long as it was cold and wet that was all I cared about.
“It’s been the week from hell,” I confessed. But I could have handled it if I hadn’t gone online and seen Kelly modelling in some stupid charity fashion show. Everything about that was so wrong. Kelly was someone who was almost unaware of her looks, and now she was completely defined by how beautiful she was.
Emily was sitting beside me on the couch. She was casually dressed in a black sweater with a deep v-neck and jeans. After I’d had a few pulls on my beer, she moved smoothly off the couch and slid between my legs. She undid my jeans, opened them up, and then took me into her hands. I closed my eyes as her skilful mouth bathed my cock in warm oblivion.
And since that night, I’d seen her a few times. She texted me occasionally too, but everything had been completely physical and drama-free. About two months ago, she was in my bedroom and saw the engraved invitation to Ben and April’s wedding on the dresser.
“You’re going to this?” she asked.
“Have to. I’m in the wedding party.”
“Won’t that be awkward for you?”
“How so?”
“Seeing Kelly there—with her fiancé.”
“He’s not her fiancé,” I corrected. Had Emily had tricked me into confessing knowledge I wouldn’t normally discuss? “It won’t be a problem for me.”
“I could be your date if you didn’t want to go alone.” She fiddled with her bracelet as she spoke. “Take it from someone who’s gone to too many weddings solo, all people can talk about is why you’re alone and who they can fix you up with.”
“I think I can handle that.”
“Sure. Though, it might make a better impression.”
I considered this. On one hand, Frechette might have playoff hockey and Kelly would be alone. On the other hand, if I had to watch the two of them all night, it might be more palatable if I at least had a date.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” I knew Emily would look classier than any one I might meet in the meantime.
Then, I forgot about all the wedding date with everything that happened in the meantime. My mom got sick, and then I found out that Kelly had been home for weeks without even contacting me. When Emily called about the wedding, I tried to put her off, but she said she had bought a new dress and I got guilted into the date.
And it was a huge mistake. I already had too much on my mind to sort out my emotions around Kelly. Lately I felt like I’d been living in a fog, unable to really feel anything. Yet today, arguing with Kelly seemed to bring me out of that. The fact that I could be angry with her was at least pulling me out of the miasma. Kelly was so special to me, and now she was back. I had no idea what the future for us might be, and frankly I couldn’t concentrate on it now. But I knew what I didn’t want.
I tried to explain this to Emily. “I’m really sorry. There’s just no point in seeing each other anymore. It’s better to end things now.”
Before everything got all pissy. But it was too late, Emily’s expression was more angry than unhappy.
“It’s Kelly coming back, isn’t it? She’s damaged goods. Five minutes with her, and I could see that. What is it with guys who want to swoop in and save the woman? You never struck me as that type, you’re too healthy.”
I didn’t want to save all women. But it hurt to see someone as vital as Kelly like she was now. “She’s not like that. You don’t know her.”
“You’re idealizing the past. I’ve met her twice, and she’s a chameleon who becomes what her latest boyfriend wants her to be. She has nothing going on. What’s the appeal of someone that naïve and dependant?”
I didn’t even bother to answer. The fact that Emily could have that impression showed how much Kelly had changed from her true self.
Emily continued, “Practically speaking, if you really want her, you should wait. The rebound guy always ends up getting turfed.”
Her arguments were starting to piss me off. Even if she was right, everything she said was self-serving.
“I’m really sorry. But this is the end for us—no matter what happens.” Even if I didn’t get back with Kelly, I could never match Emily’s level of caring. I had been wrong to hook up with her. Sex can never be casual and emotionless, no matter how much two people pretend. The fact that she kept arguing was proof. I was willing to cut her some slack because of everything we’d shared, but she was starting to piss me off.
Emily finally got out of the car, but not without a parting shot.
“I don’t understand why someone like you—with so much going for him—continues to chase after a person who prefers someone else.”
“Really, Emily? I’d think you’d understand that better than anyone.”