Page 109 of The Love Destroyers

“Uh, Mom, you’ve had at least five boyfriends since then.”

She laughs and makes a dismissive gesture. “Those weren’t boyfriends, Emma. They werelovers.”

I scrunch my face, and she sighs. “Oh, please. Don’t pretend a woman’s needs dry up when her ovaries do.”

“Look, I’m very happy for you and your needs, but I don’t necessarily want to hear about them in detail. I’m really gladif you’re interested in Chuck, though. He’s a nice guy, and he seems to be crazy about you.”

I’m shocked by the dreamy look in her eyes. “He’s a unicorn.”

“Are you on hallucinogenics?”

She swats my hand. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean. That man is one in a million. Kind, handsome, and all of his teeth are real. Plus, he can plan a party.”

“God, a person’s standards really go down when they get on in years.” But I’m grinning at her, feeling this win with her. My mother has had horrible luck with men, for the most part, and she deserves her unicorn.

I say as much, and she pats my hand.

“You do, too, my dear. If you think Seamus is for you, then I have no objection. Back in my day, they’d say he doesn’t have two nickels to rub together, but that’s not something you’ll ever have to worry about. I was a gold digger so you don’t have to be one.”

I laugh. “Thanks, Mom. You took one for the team.”

She smiles and pats my hand again. “My advice to you is to get back what that man stole from you and leave the bitterness behind. I carried mine for too long, Emma. Don’t you do the same.”

I don’t hesitate. I close the lid to my laptop and get up, taking Shadow with me.

“Oh good, I’ve motivated you to get off your posterior?”

“Indeed.”

“Would you mind terribly if I watch some of those videos?” she asks, gesturing toward the closed laptop. “Some of her cosmetics tips seemed promising.”

“Mom, you’ve really got it bad,” I say, shocked.

She purses her lips. “There’s nothing wrong with a woman wanting to look her best.”

“No, there’s not,” I say, pausing. Because, truthfully, I’d like to look my best for Seamus, too, and right now I’m wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved legal aid T-shirt I put on after getting home from his house.

But the need to go to him is greater than the need to not look like a slob. I consider bringing Shadow with me, but I don’t think she’d get along with the tyrant bunny, so I leave her with my mother, after she assures me she won’t try to feed her anything she shouldn’t eat—a list that includes gin after I caught her licking from my mother’s glass the other night.

Then I leave, my pulse pounding frantically, because I can already feel it. I’m going to have to put myself out there, and it won’t be comfortable.

The bottom door to Seamus’s building is propped open, so I head up to his apartment and knock. My arms are wrapped around my torso because even though spring is around the corner, it’s still out of sight, and I forgot a coat.

He opens the door on the first knock and instantly scowls at me and disappears inside, returning with a soft blanket that he wraps around my shoulders. He’s wearing a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants. He looks like crap, with circles under his eyes and a glazed expression, and he also looks beautiful to me.

“Have you been drinking?” I ask, shaken but accepting the blanket. He smells like whiskey, and when I look over his shoulder, there’s a bottle sitting on the kitchen table, with one glass next to it. Something inside of my chest squeezes.

Was he drinking because of me?

“Yes,” he says. “Excessively.”

I want to touch him. To take him by the hand and lead him to a chair and force him to sit down. But I don’t know how to be with him anymore. Logic tells me I should still consider last night a mistake, but logic doesn’t have a space between us.Ever since that first night, there was a buzzing, snapping, almost painful connection between us. An understanding.

He gives me space, and I come inside and shut the door—and gasp. He’s set up a makeshift playpen for Carrot the rabbit. It’s made of tennis rackets and piles of books and collapsed cardboard boxes.

“Has Chuck seen this?”

He makes an amused grunt. “Chuck hasn’t been home. Your mother has got him so twisted into knots he visited a lawyer this morning. Haven’t seen him since. I’m happy for the guy.”

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