Page 25 of Love Hazard

“What?” She tucked her hands under her head.

I didn’t touch her, but I wanted to. “You’re pretty.”

Her eyes widened, but I chose to turn off the light, justlike I turned off all temptation.

I wasn’t sure how much more space my heart could make forsomeone in this world, knowing that they could be taken, too. It wasn’tsomething people really thought about until they were faced with it.

Loss.

You can’t just replace what’s been lost. You can make roomfor more, but why take that risk? And I genuinely—despite what almost everyonethought—liked Hazel.

She’d probably marry a rock star or something.

Someone totally against the grain.

I smiled to myself as she started to snore softly next tome. Yeah, she’d be the pain in the ass who brought home a guy with long hairand an obsession with guitars, drumsticks, and weed.

I almost burst out laughing. Her dad would shit a brick.

My smile fell as my brain continued stupidly functioning inthat little scenario: her getting married and taking pictures by her tree.

Maybe wearing something from her great-grandma.

And me, alone, next door, while Dad traveled to keep himselfbusy.

Me in an empty house, keeping my grief at bay.

Me fixing a motorcycle and finally finishing college, goingto a boring job, just because that’s what you did.

Dating but not feeling it.

But why wouldn’t I?

I liked sex.

I liked women.

I liked the thrill of it all. So when did I lose interest inall of that, and why was picturing Hazel getting married and moving on with herlife as she should so depressing?

In an effort to get close to her,I’d made fun of her once. And then it was just…gone. I graduated, she stayed,then I stayed, and she left for college. Why would that even matter?

“I want that for you,” Mom had said when I was in highschool.

“What?” I looked next door where she pointed.

Sure enough, Great-Grandma Nadine was sneaking out ofthe house, cane and all, and walking down the streettoward her lover’s house. And just like clockwork, Mr. Casbon looked out hisblinds like a peeping Tom and hurriedly opened the door as he escorted her in.

She was carrying a bottle of wine.

And he was wearing one of his notorious Hawaiian shirts.

One time, I’d asked him if he’d ever been, and he justlaughed and said he experienced it through his lover.

Aka, Great-Grandma Nadine.

Another time, I asked him where he kept buying them, andhe said she bought them for him when she went or when she shopped because each and every one meant she was thinking of him. It was allthe vacation he needed.

“Yeah,” I’d said to Mom. “They’re sneaking around liketeenagers.”

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