Page 13 of Out of Focus

“You know what I’m gonna say before I even say it, so I’m not gonna say it, but if you don’t say it, I’m gonna have to say it.” Maeve’s face is deadpan, but Elaina’s is the reflection of delight.

“Oh, please say it,” Elaina whispers. All the girl is missing is some popcorn as she watches this ridiculous mostly silent showdown happening between me and my twin.

I let out a loud sigh and look away from my sister’s judgy eyes. “I know, Mae. I said I’d thank him. But then I remembered every other interaction I’ve had with the guy, and I knew that he’d always be the same wanker I’ve known him to be since day one.”

“Thank who? Or is it whom? Thank whom, or whatever. And what for?” Elaina’s eyes are frantic, bouncing between me and Maeve. I made the mistake of texting my sister to tell her I’d gotten hurt, but that I was fine, and that Rafael helped me, but I hadn’t told Elaina. She’s been busy getting to know her newborn daughter, so it didn’t seem right to bother her with this.

“I thought Charlie came to her senses this week about what a nice guy Raffy is since he helped her with something, but it seems like she wants to keep going with this annoying game they’ve been playing. This is just like New Year’s Eve when you said you’d apologize to him, but then you didn’t.” Maeve rolls her eyes at me so hard I think they might get stuck in the back of her head.

“Can we please not talk about him?” I take a deep breath, saying a silent prayer that we can stop this now. I’d rather not have the focus on me at all right now, given how uneasy I’m still feeling about coming to LA and leaving the comfort and predictability of London behind. At least, for now. Being here, having this new proximity to Rafael makes my whole body feel tense from replaying every interaction we’ve had over the last three years.

“Char, why don’t you tell us about Robert or what you’re writing about?” Dear, sweet Elaina is clearly trying to make me feel better, not knowing that the only other things I don’t want to talk about are Robert and writing.

The breath that comes out of me is far louder than I intend, more of a growl than a puff of air.

“Robert says he’s ready to commit, but now Charlie’s not sure that’s what she wants. And the lack of intimacy with him or anyone means she’s struggling to write. She wants to feel all the big feelings, but she’s not sure how to do that.” Maeve is addressing Elaina, essentially ignoring me as she fills our best friend in on our conversation and how she recommended I put myself in more situations that cause me to feel “all the big feelings.” As if she can read my mind—which I swear, sometimes she can—she turns to me with a knowing smile.

Elaina’s mouth opens, then closes. It opens again and closes again until, finally, she speaks. “Have you ever thought that maybe Raf could help?” I raise my eyebrows at that, not quite sure what she’s getting at. “I just mean that, yes, he makes you feel things like anger and frustration, but also, he would be the guy to ask about feelings in general. The guy wears his heart on his sleeve. And he has a lot of experience with the intimacy side of things if you know what I mean.” It’s her turn to wiggle her eyebrows up and down now.

“Ew, Lainey. No. I am not going to ask him to help me write smut. Not happening. Not ever. That’s not what I need help with, anyway.” Just the thought of it makes my stomach tighten. Sure, he knows far more than I do about getting busy in the sheets, but that does not mean I would ever ask him for help. “And what makes you think he would even be willing to help me, anyway?” Besides the fact that he’s proven to have a few moments in which he’s capable of acting like a half-decent human being, I don’t think his idea of fun is spending time with me.

“Because he’s the nicest guy, Char. And if ever there was an emotionally intelligent man, Rafael is it. Trust me. And he wouldn’t think twice about helping you.” Lainey looks down at her baby and then scoops her into her car seat on the counter, rocking it gently back and forth as Agnes continues to sleep.

“Well, I’m sure you and Maeve would also be well-equipped to help me now that you’re happily receiving multiple orgasms from your hotter-than-hot husbands and their perfect dicks, no?” Maeve scoffs loudly, and Elaina coughs, spattering tea on the countertop. “And are they not also emotionally intelligent?”

“First of all, not even Adam’s perfect dick is coming near my lady bits for at least another month. Oh, and ew, Owen is my brother!” She makes a gagging sound and does a full-body shiver. “At least give us a little warning next time!” Maeve chuckles as Lainey wipes the tea with a paper towel.

“I’m just trying to make a point here. Rafael isn’t the only qualified person I know when it comes to hot, sensual, mind-numbing sex.”

Uh-oh. Mistake. I know it immediately. There’s no way they’re going to overlook this.

Maeve slaps a hand on her lap; the unsaid ah-ha is heard loud and clear with the motion. Elaina wiggles in her seat.

“I thought this wasn’t only about sex. And how do you know sex with Raf is hot, sensual, and mind-numbing, Char?” The question comes from Maeve. Because, of course it does. Lainey sips her tea and watches quietly, a small smile playing on her face. Somebody get her that popcorn.

“Oh, shut up. You’ve seen the man. He is sex on legs with that perfect brown skin and all those muscles everywhere. And the tattoos. And those stupid dimples on one cheek. Never has asymmetry worked so well.”

What is happening to me? I feel personally attacked by the looseness of my lips and their willingness to reveal my secrets. I have never talked about Rafael like this. Not to anyone.

“Is that so? Sex on legs, you say?”

Nope. Not falling for it. I’m keeping my mouth shut so it can’t betray me again by saying something else that could be used against my plan to forever detest Rafael.

“Elaina, why didn’t you correct me when I said you both had husbands? Normally, you’d give me the we’re not married yet spiel.” Deflect, deflect, deflect. It doesn’t always work, but given the sheepish look on Elaina’s face right now, it is.

She looks back and forth between me and Maeve a few times before blurting out her next words. “Okay, fine, I have a secret!” Tears immediately spring in her eyes, and Maeve looks at me, slightly panicked. “Oh, it’s nothing bad. But we’re married. Adam and I are married. Fuck, it feels good to say that out loud.”

“What?” my sister and I hiss simultaneously. It comes out more like wot because we are extra British when we’re surprised/excited/nervous.

“We wanted to be married before Agnes was born, but with how sick I’d been the whole pregnancy, I didn’t think we would. I was feeling great those last couple of weeks, but I was super hormonal and broke down crying one night because I just wanted to be married already, so Adam worked some things out, and we got married on New Year’s Eve and didn’t tell anyone. And then, I immediately went into labor.” Two tears slide down her cheeks, and she quickly wipes them away. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. We’re still going to have a celebration and do the whole party or whatever with everybody. Probably. Maybe. Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t really care for parties that much, and I honestly can’t imagine planning anything that isn’t a nap right now.” Our sweet best friend looks so defeated.

With our twintuition firmly in place, Maeve and I surround Lainey and hug her tightly. “You’re married,” I say into her hair that always smells of coconut and honey. “To your soul mate.”

“Yeah,” she sobs. “I am.”

“Oh, Bon, this is wonderful.” Maeve sniffles as she hugs us a little tighter. “I’m so happy for you.”

“We both are,” I add.

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