“Joel, do you want to get to the reason why we’re here?”

“Blaire, I’m sorry—”

“You’ve said that already, in every imaginable way. In ways I didn’t even think one could say sorry.”

“I know, but you didn’t give me a chance to tell you…it’s not true, you know. I would never do that. I don’t know if that’s the real reason why you won’t see me, but I would never do that to a woman. I’m a make-love-not-war kind of guy. You have to know that. You believe me, don’t you?” He looked like a man who was desperate for someone, anyone to be on his side. I could understand. He was an only child, now orphaned. Sure, he was an adult, but I’m sure he was having a really rough time what with everything that was going on—not including his legal problems.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I believe you? Because that still doesn’t change anything. Not the case or our situation.”

“Yes. It would. Even if you never saw me again, if I paid her off, or lost to her in court—whatever. I want you to know the truth.”

“Why does it even matter what I think? You don’t even know me, Joel. You have plenty of other things to worry about right now.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I know it was only supposed to be a night, but don’t you see? We were supposed to be stuck together in that storm. You and I. I thought it was going to be a disaster, but it turned out to be the best week I’ve had in a long time. Do you know what my life has been like this last month?”

“I—no, I can’t imagine.”

“It’s been a fucking nightmare. I never thought I’d be the guy to hide out in my house.”

“Why have you been hiding? Why don’t you just face her? If what you say is true, why don’t you say it?”

“Do you know what people see when they see me? They see a man three times as big as Lara. They think I do steroids, which would explain how I could lose it like that. They see a spoiled little rich kid who probably got everything he ever asked for and didn’t have to work for anything. Even if I was never accused of doing something as fucking awful as hitting a woman, there would always be those people who hate me. That want to see me fail. That want to knock me down a peg or two, just so that I could know what their struggles are like. I’m only one person, Blaire. How am I supposed to go against that?”

“The night we met—”

“Wasn’t supposed to happen. I had been cooped up for weeks, and I felt like I was going stir crazy. I had to get out, even if for a little bit. And then I saw you…”

The waiter chose the perfect opportunity to bring our food. He set our plates down, clouds of steam still billowing from Joel’s fajitas. After we assured him everything looked good, he left us alone again—to continue our conversation. I didn’t know what I expected from my lunch with Joel, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t complete honesty and sincere words. Maybe a lot of sexual innuendo and sly smirks, pretty much anything to get me to the nearest hotel for a quickie. Not that the idea crossed my mind or anything. With the waiter gone, Joel didn’t miss a beat immersing us back in the conversation we had prior to our food arriving.

“You can’t tell me I don’t mean something to you. I saw it. I felt it.”

I never felt as fat in my life as I did in that moment, where I would have rather stuffed my face full of cheesy enchiladas than face what he was suggesting. To say no would be to lie and to say yes would be the truth. A truth that wouldn’t help either one of us. Especially, if my intention was to put some distance between us.

When Joel picked up his fork and took a bite of his food, I was thankful he wasn’t going to push it.

“I don’t want you hiding in your house.” The words coming from my mouth shocked even me, but I continued, “I know you said people don’t want to see you, but it looks worse that you’re not doing anything. If what you’re saying is true and Lara is lying, then she’s winning by forcing you to hide out in your home where you have no one and nothing. Do you know why she’s doing this to you?”

“No, but I suspect it has something to do with money.”

“Why did you break up with her after your father died? It seemed like an awful time to dump someone.”

“Things were sour between us long before my father died, and after his heart attack, I knew it was the right thing. But I think the final straw was when she started saying things like ‘now that he’s finally dead’?”

“Oh my god, did she actually use those words?” I felt my face contort, displaying every horrific reaction imaginable to someone actually saying that to a grieving child.

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. Needless to say, she had to go. It didn’t hurt that my father didn’t like her anyway. I couldn’t show up to his funeral with her on my arm. I’d never forgive myself.”

“God, that’s awful. I’m so sorry. You’ve really had a rough couple months.”

“You’re telling me. Honestly, Blaire, I wasn’t lying when I said spending time with you was the best thing that’d happened to me in a long time. After all this…I felt like myself again.”

“I know, but Joel, what happened between us can’t happen again. You do understand, don’t you? This is hard for me, too. I haven’t had someone in a really long time and you were…you were just what I needed, but its just bad timing.”

“I understand.” His eyebrows were downcast, staring into the peppers and steak still lingering on his plate. I felt like I’d broken his heart. It was much easier to cut him off when he was still in my house and I was spitting angry and just the sight of his face made me see red, but without the anger, all I felt was an overwhelming sadness. I knew without a doubt that he did understand and this would be the last time I spent with Joel. Perhaps forever.

It took every bit of effort to continue moving fork to mouth, chewing through the empty pit in my stomach that seemed to be pulling everything into its orbit. My chest felt bottomless, like my heart was incinerating in slow motion so I could feel every cell burn until there was nothing left.

“I really am sorry, Joel. I wish things could be different,” I said as we exited the restaurant. He moved closer and I held out my arms to him, opening to receive him for the last time. I knew he needed to hold me at that moment, as much as I needed to hold him. Just one last time.

“Me too.”

***

After my lunch with Joel and our obvious stalemate, I couldn’t help but be surprised by the box I found on my doorstep after work. I thought we were past this, but apparently we weren’t, because there it sat—large enough to be seen from the driveway. I rolled my eyes as I pulled into the garage. It was starting to become a rare occurrence that I didn’t have something waiting for me from Joel. Telegrams, drive-bys, phone calls, videos—it was overwhelming. How was I supposed to get over the time we spent together if every day he was reminding me of what I was missing? Didn’t he know how hard this was for me? Maybe not. I tried hard not to show my vulnerable side, not when it came to this. I had to be strong to withstand his charms. And every day it was becoming harder and harder. Some days I got so far as dialing his number before I remembered that I couldn’t call him. It would send the wrong message, and it wasn’t a mistake I could afford to make.

I took the box inside, going straight to my office for a pair of scissors. The box was ordinary—except where you’d usually find an address, there was nothing, just clear tape. Pressing the scissors into the crease of the box, I watched the tape break away, unfolding the top flaps of the box to reveal white tissue paper. I unwrapped the paper and peered in. The surprise that greeted me wasn’t one I was familiar with, nor was it welcomed. The white tissue paper was stained red as if something bloody had been put in the box and shaken.