Page 38 of The Marriage Policy

“I didn’t say you were. I just said you love him.”

My cheeks heat because he’s absolutely right. I do love Eric. I always have and always will.

“Anyway, most things done out of love aren’t stupid. You care about him. He cares about you, is vulnerable with you, and that means something.” Anthony shrugs. “You guys are lucky.”

I wonder about Anthony’s background. He hasn’t shared much with us. They know I was sick, that Eric has been my best friend for most of my life, that we come from the high desert and our parents still live there. All we really know about Anthony is that he was painfully shy as a child and worked hard to get past it.

Does he have family? Does he have people in his life outside of us who love him? “I’m lucky to have you too,” I tell him. “Last night, hell, our whole friendship, it’s meant a lot to me. I hope you know how grateful I am for you, Hayes, and for last night. That was fun.”

“I…thanks. Is this one of those emotional-drunk things, only for you it’s emotional hangover?” he says in a light voice that doesn’t feel quite real, like maybe Anthony is telling himself that my words aren’t true or aren’t a big deal, but they are.

“It’s an honest thing.” I set my mug on the counter and hug him.

Anthony returns it but doesn’t make eye contact when I pull away. “Thanks. I feel the same.”

We find other topics to talk about as we finish our coffee, and then we say goodbye so I can get home to Eric.

On the way back, I stop by a pastry shop Eric loves and get him a giant cinnamon roll. He loves them, and I want to do something nice for him. He’s cleaning the kitchen when I arrive.

“Hey, sit down. I can do that,” I tell him.

“Oh, it’s fine. I got it.” He keeps wiping the counter, not looking at me.

Um…okay. This is different. “Look what I brought you!” I set the box down and open it, which earns me an Eric smile and a sparkle in his blue eyes. There he is!

“Thank you.” He scoots it over but doesn’t eat it right away, giving his attention to the granite counter like it’s his favorite thing in the world.

Are we in a fight and I don’t know it?

He takes a step on his crutches, when I say, “You don’t have to clean our kitchen, babe,” and Eric fumbles with the sponge in a way that isn’t typical.

I’ve been calling him babe for years. It’s my thing, our thing, and it’s never flustered him before. Is it now because of the jerking off the other night? He seemed fine with it, but maybe he had more time to think about it and now he’s weirded out…

Oh God. Maybe he thinks I want him, which I absolutely don’t! “I said you could bring girls here, right?”

“Wait. What? Where did that come from? Did you hook up with Anthony or something last night?”

I blanch. “No. We’re just friends. You know random hookups aren’t my thing. It’s just…I want to again make sure you know I don’t care if you have sex or if you have sex in this house. You could have a gangbang in your room for all I care.”

“I don’t want to have a gangbang in my room.”

“That’s fine too…or if you change your mind about Ana. Anything, really. You’re totally free to do what you want.” Translation:I don’t have feelings for you. I don’t think the other night means more than it did. Nothing has changed.

“Fine. Maybe I’ll call her. Or maybe I’ll go have that gangbang you’re talking about.”

“Okay…why do you sound mad?” Eric doesn’t get mad at me, and I don’t get mad at him.

He sighs. “I’m not mad, D. I just…”

He just what? Nothing else comes out, and I hold my breath, waiting for more. He just hates me? He just regrets marrying me? What does he just?

My cell rings, startling us. I take it out of my pocket to seeDadon the screen.

“You should answer that,” Eric tells me.

“I can call him back.”

“You love talking to your dad. Answer it, D. I’m gonna get dressed and call Ana to see if she wants to hang out.”

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