Page 31 of David's Chase

She seems distracted.

“What else?” she murmurs, focusing on me this time.

Her question feels like a setup, so I keep my mouth shut.

“I knew I wanted to write that story. It begged to be written, and one day, I finally sat down and put it on paper.”

“Was it because of him?” I dare to ask.

“Him? You mean David? Or James?”

“Both.”

What else can I say?

That I’m solely interested in David?

But she’s no dummy––her perception maybe even sharper than mine––yet she doesn’t comment on what might motivate my sordid curiosity about her work.

“To answer truthfully, it was all about me. I didn’t care how it would sit with everyone else involved in the story.”

Inside myself, I applaud her grit and gasp in admiration.

She goes on.

“I wanted to process everything and move on. And I thought to myself, what better way to do that than writing a story?”

She sighs and drinks more wine before setting the half–empty glass on the table.

“I was so naive…” she murmurs, staring blankly at her drink before bringing her eyes to me.

“Can you believe I did those things?” she says softly, having a hard time believing it herself.

There’s no good answer to her question, so I remain quiet.

“And then I had the audacity to feel hurt,” she says, a soft chuckle peeling off her lips. “After hurting other people.”

Something clenches in my chest. It has the bite of apprehension.

“That’s why I wrote that book. I wanted to let it all out. Put it out in the open. Remove the possibility of keeping it a secret and allowing it to gnaw at my happiness. It was a selfish thing to do, yet it turned out to be one of the best things I could do. Writing that story felt cathartic, and it helped me make sense of myself, if you know what I mean.”

I nod.

“And as I said… It made me realize how fortunate I was. Do you know how difficult it is, or should I say unlikely, not to fall for a man you have chemistry with?”

Her eyes are fiercely connected to mine as if hunting for a reaction while I sit stiff in my seat, not blinking or breathing.

“That was my luck… Not falling in love with two men at the same time. Had I fallen for David, I would’ve lost both of them.”

Interested in the story, I nod a couple of times to encourage her to continue.

“What makes you say that?” I ask when she fails to elaborate.

She flashes a smile.

“Experience. At one point, I was unattainable. Impossible to get. And that’s a sweet spot to be in if the two men competing for you are pretty much the same. Fierce and eager to do whatever it takes.”

“Was David like that?” I ask, enjoying our little chat and hoping the girls won’t come back too soon.

---