Page 67 of Drowning Erin

That’s what troubles memost.

Brendan’s unexplained absences have become a blank screen on which I project worst-case scenarios: cheerleaders with D cups, sex-crazed models. Or nights spent with Gabi—the girl I suspect he hasn’t leftbehind.

* * *

He goesto Boulder to visit his mom when she starts radiation. I don’t see him for three days, but I have no idea whether he’s with her the entire time. I’m not even sure I’ll hear from him again. I’m forced to wonder—not that I ever really stop wondering—when we will end, and if he’ll warn me before ithappens.

I go to his place when he gets home. He’s standing at the stove when I arrive, but takes one look at me and turns the burneroff.

“Get undressed,” he says, his voice a lowgrowl.

Mere seconds later we are both rid of our clothes, bare skin meeting bare skin. He manages to grunt the word “bed,” but we only make it as far as thecouch.

When it’s through, his gaze follows mine across the room, which we’ve littered withclothing.

I laugh. “Your apartment looks like a crimescene.”

“I did plan to try to talk to you for at least a few minutes first,” he admits. “It’s those fucking heels of yours. Seeing you naked is mandatory when you come here in thosethings.”

“What’s shocking is that you still want to,” I venture tentatively. "I can’t believe you’re not boredyet.”

“Why would I bebored?”

I shrug, feigning ambivalence. “It’s sort of what you’re known for, isn’t it? Never the same girltwice?”

He studies my face. “Does that botheryou?”

“I just want to make sure it ends well.” I grind my teeth together on the last word to keep it from sounding tremulous, because that’s suddenly how I feel when I say it aloud—not ambivalent, the way I’m supposed to be about our dirty little secret, but invested. You cannot be invested in something as brief as this, particularly something you’ve always known will end, but Iam.

"You worry too much," he says. "We're in the bubble right now. That’s why thisworks."

"Thebubble?"

"Like a pocket of air in a submerged car. It’s a little space to breathe that you know won’t last. This works because I know you’re getting back together with Rob,” he says. “If you weren’t, I’d have to worry that…you know, you might getattached.”

“So you’re saying if Rob and I weren’t planning to try again, you wouldn’t have slept with me in the firstplace?”

He laughs, shifting just enough to make me realize he’s already thinking about round two. “I don’t havethatmuch self-control. But if you weren’t getting back together with him, you wouldn’t want this. You’d be off looking for someone just likehim.”

"Why do you saythat?"

He rolls on his back, staring at the ceiling. "You want stability, Erin. You want the boring guy like Rob who's going to work unrelentingly until he can retire at 65, and who's never going to have more than one or two drinks when he goesout.”

"Being a hard worker and responsible drinker doesn't mean someone isboring."

Brendan rolls his eyes. "Fine. Not boring—controlled. You want someone who's always controlled, and reliable, and steady. And that guy will never beme."

I no longer believe thatcontrolled—orcontrolling—is what I need, but I still want someone I can count on. If I were a smarter girl, I’d ask myself why, given that fact, I am here atall.

"Why are you so against relationships?” I ask. “They aren’t allbad."

"The problem with a relationship,” he says, “is that it's a sort of promise to the other person—not that you’re staying together but that you at least think you might. And it fucks people up when you realize you were wrong. I'm not ever making that promise to anyoneagain."

“Brendan, it’s not a promise. It’s an attempt. Until you marry someone, you’re only promising to try. No one can blame you when it doesn’t workout.”

“You just never know how someone will react,” he says. “Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I bring it out in people. But the few times I’ve tried have been disastrous when they ended. And when that happens, you bear some responsibility for it, for what you’ve turned someone elseinto.”

“No, you don’t,” I argue. “I became someone else with Rob—to keep the peace and to make him happy. But he didn’tmakeme change, and he also isn’t responsible for how unhappy I became when I did. The only person whose feelings you’re responsible for are yourown.”

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