Page 75 of When We Were More
“Not more. Friends.” Shit, I was a little too zealous in my denial, and I can see doubt in her eyes.
“Okay, even if you’re only friends, it looks like it’s good for Henry. He seems genuinely happy. I’m guessing you have something to do with that.”
“I don’t know about that…”
Georgie is gracious enough to smile but not push, and a few seconds later, we’re issued a challenge to a game of doubles in pool. We accept and, for the next thirty minutes, we run the table, much to the chagrin of our previously cocky opponents. They challenge us to darts after it’s clear they can’t beat us in pool, but I glance down at my watch and realize Henry’s been gone forty minutes. Georgie must notice my hesitance.
“We’re gonna pass this time, fellas. But you practice between now and next New Year’s, and we’ll have a rematch.” Georgie winks at me, and the old men grumble some, but then get back to trash-talking each other as they rack up the balls to playanothergame of pool. Suddenly, they’re interested again now that there’s no real competition.
I follow Georgie upstairs, and she directs me where to find Henry. A minute or two later, I’m climbing the stairs to the upper level of the house, and I’m three steps from the landing when I hear a female voice. I stop dead in my tracks.
“Thanks, Henry. As usual, I can count on you to come through and help a girl out. I owe you one. Remember you’ve got my number when you need a stress reliever with a woman who knows how to please you.”
I can’t move. I desperately need to get away from here before one of them finds me, but my legs are shaking and won’t cooperate. Hence, I’m standing here wide-eyed when the woman who was staring at Henry earlier this evening walks down the hall where Georgie told me I’d find Henry.
She makes eye contact with me, and a wicked smile forms around her mouth as she runs her hands down her dress, smoothing it out, and then wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. I watch as she sashays down the steps and disappears. Then I force myself to turn and face the top of the stairs again.
When I do, my stomach drops. Henry is standing a few feet away from me, suit jacket gone, his tie loosened, and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. His hair is a mess, his eyes are wide as saucers, and his mouth hangs open.
“Matilda.”
I make a point of looking at his hair and decide the same words he said to me after the pie party make-out incident are fitting.
“You should probably go into the bathroom and fix your hair before you come down. I’ll go first.”
He takes a few steps toward me.
“Stop. Stay there.”
I’m barely holding myself together, and I can’t have him come any closer. My mind is spinning, and I’m not sure what to think. I need a few seconds.
“Tiger, I swear to God this isn’t what it looks like. I wouldn’t?—”
“Just don’t. Okay?” He stills, and I take a few breaths. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
A traitorous tear rolls down my cheek, and I don’t even bother to wipe it away. Pain flashes across his face when he sees it, and I want to dick punch him. He doesn’t get to feel bad. When he extends a hand to me, I don’t take it. I need to walk away soon to get my thoughts together.
“I want to go home, Henry. Let me do that. Alone.” My voice shakes. “Please give me space.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off of me as I back down the stairs. When I’m confident he isn’t going to follow, I turn and take the last half-dozen steps as quickly as I can. After I get to the bottom, I glance up at him, and he’s standing at the railing watching me.
“Can we please talk now? Let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, and I almost give in. “I promise you nothing?—”
“Ineedtime, Henry. Please don’t try to make me do this now.”
He slowly creeps down a few steps while never taking his eyes off of me. His hands are out in front of him, palms facing me. Like I’m some crazy woman he has to approach with caution.
“Tell me what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling.” His voice is soft, coaxing.
I back up a few steps, and he halts his attempted descent. How the hell am I supposed to tell him any of that when I’m not sure myself? Do I tell him my heart hurts and I’m afraid I’ve been cheated on? Which is stupid and impossible because we’re not together, so if something did happen, it wouldn’t be likewhat Joe did. Fuck, why is that bastard popping up in my mind right now?
Do I tell him that I’m terrified because, even if nothing happened, these emotions that have surfaced weren’t part of the plan? That I need to think long and hard about whether I should stop all of this. No feelings is one of our ground rules.
My chest tightens, and I’m breathing more rapidly than normal. A faint wheeze now emanates from me. Henry’s eyes bulge, and he grabs a fistful of his messy hair.
“Where’s your inhaler, Matilda?”
“In my car,” I whisper.
