Page 55 of A Me and Him Thing
“I know.”
“Can we talk?”
“Do I want to hear what you have to say?”
He shrugs. “Probably not.”
I mull that over. “Are you going to break my heart?”
“I don’t want to, Bree. That wasn’t my intention.”
It never is. This happens to me every time. I’m the modern-day goodbye girl. “Where do you want to talk?”
“Come with me back to my place.”
It’s an olive branch. I’ve never been to his home. I know he’s offering so he can show that he’s willing to reveal himself to me.
“I don’t know where you live.”
“It’s down the street. Walk with me.”
I don’t want to do this, but I can’t help myself. I need to understand him, to hear his explanation. Otherwise, I’ll always wonder why he rejected me. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I need to hear his reasons.
“Okay.”
He waits while I park my car in the garage. Then I join him on the sidewalk. We walk in silence, careful not to let our bodies touch in any way as we make our way toward his home. The separation between us feels akin to a physical barrier.
I’m wearing white slacks, a light-gray blouse, and a black blazer, along with my favorite Jimmy Choo heels. While I enjoyed life in joggers, t-shirts, and ponytails while taking care of Josie and Jordyn, the truth is, I love being dressed up, feeling like I look good. It gives me confidence.
Ren’s place is only a couple blocks away. It’s an older complex, beautifully landscaped, filled with spacious two-bedroom condos. Prime real estate in this walkable, pleasant area of downtown Portland.
He’s in an upstairs unit. When we enter, I’m immediately struck by the décor. The condo is pristine, with high ceilings and lots of natural light. But it’s decidedly a mix of seventies and eighties design. The dark wood tables, brown plaid couches,wallpaper borders, fake plants, and corkboard wall in the living room are not what I expected at all.
“This is your home?”
“No. It’s my parents’ condo. I live here so I can be close to work. My parents live in my home with my children, about forty minutes away from here, depending on traffic. I guess you could say we swapped homes. It’s only temporary, though. My parents had already moved into this place and planned to renovate this well-kept time capsule. They just haven’t had a chance to do it yet. They bought it from the original owner, furniture and all, for a steal. Even then, they actually offered above asking price. She was an old lady who was moving to a nursing home. They felt bad for her.”
“Oh.” His explanation begs a thousand questions. But I don’t voice them. I have a feeling all is about to be revealed, and I want him to do it without being pressured.
The situation tells me one thing, though. His ex-wife is out of the picture. I wondered about that.
“Let me grab a shower and change. I won’t be long. Make yourself at home.”
While he showers, I try to ignore the sounds of the water spray. I try not to think about the warm water hitting his body, about reaching out and touching his smooth skin.
I shake the image from my mind and wander to a wall of pictures. Nearly all are of a little boy and a little girl. It’s Ren and his sister, I assume, because it’s obvious they’re older pictures. I don’t know his sister’s name or where she lives. He never talks about her. But they were both adorable kids. As teenagers, Ren’s handsome good looks were already obvious, and his sister was beautiful. Clearly, they are their parents’ pride and joy. One entire wall is dedicated to them.
Ren emerges fifteen minutes later, looking cool and relaxed in casual clothes perfect for an afternoon off. Jeans, V-neck t-shirt,and tennis shoes. Other than when he’s going for a run, I’ve never seen him this dressed down.
The look works for him. My attraction for him has not waned. If anything, it’s grown stronger because of the forbidden element he’s placed on our relationship.
I point to the picture of the little girl. “Is this your sister?”
“Yes, Clarissa. She lives in Maine. We don’t get to see each other very often.”
Clarence and Clarissa. His parents had a theme going.
“Is this your father?” It’s a headshot of a man wearing a lab coat. “Is he a doctor?”
