Page 90 of No Place Like You

We stare at each other, wanting to say more, wanting to do more but unable to. Instead of saying something, I reach out and place my hand on his thigh. Under the table where no one can see, wanting to reassure him of…I don’t even know what. There’s nothing I can offer him right now. I can’t even offer him comfort or anything beyond touches under hidden surfaces. So I focus on Janet because it’s easier, neutral. “Well, tell her I said hi when you see her.”

He huffs, that hint of annoyance showing a bit more now. “Yeah.”

He turns away, facing the table where his forearms rest and a deep scowl cuts across his face. I see it when he frowns and his jaw twitches. He’s upset, mad. That need to say something tugs at me, and I hesitate.

He pulls out his phone, staring at the screen held between his hands, and I look away. This is how it’s meant to be anyway, right? Him there and me here. I should start getting used to it. But then my phone buzzes on the counter, and when I look down, I see Dexter’s name flash on the screen. I discreetly unlock my phone, sliding it under the table and ducking my head down to read his message.

Dexter: Can we talk later?

I chance a quick glance in his direction. He’s still looking down at his phone screen, focused like he’s reading some fine print on a legal document.

Me: I can’t.

It’s the truth, for the most part anyway. It’s Nat’s last night with me in the same room until she moves on to the honeymoon suite with Hayden tomorrow after the wedding. But if I could sneak away for a few hours in the middle of the night, would it be that difficult? When she’s sleeping…

But is that really the smartest thing to do right now? Should I be playing with the already tattered parts of my heart, clinging to the hope that we can continue this charade without thinking about the consequences? I mean, what’s a completely shattered heart for the sake of a few more stolen moments?

Three dots appear, flashing in sequential order before they disappear and then reappear. And then they disappear altogether at the same time I notice Dexter shoving his phone back into his pocket.

In an instant, the wooden legs from the stool scrape loudly against the floor before Dexter bolts toward the bathroom. I look around the table, but no one’s noticed. Hayden and Nat are still in la-la land, and Carmen and David are picking at a wire basket full of mozzarella sticks and onion rings. I quietly excuse myself, reaching for Carmen’s arm to get her attention with a quick head jerk toward the bathrooms, and follow Dexter.

When I round the corner to where the bathrooms are, he’s there. Not inside one of the unisex stalls but pacing the small space. He lifts his head and our eyes lock. We stay like that, waiting for the other to make a move. And it’s Dexter who does first. He turns toward the exit sign leading toward the back door without a single word, and I follow.

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask when the door closes behind me.God, I hope it doesn’t lock from the inside.

He has his back turned to me, and I can see his muscles tense through the thin material of his shirt. “No, Lucy. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“You look upset. At me. Why are you upset?”

He finally turns, and for the first time since I ran into him at that wine and cheese store, I’m scared. I’m scared of what he might say. That he hates me, he never wants to see my face again. Or even worse, he feels the complete opposite, and he doesn’t want to say goodbye. That he wants me to come back to New York with him and go back to this fantasy bubble in his small apartment that smells like him and a little like me now.

“I-I don’t know,” he answers, hesitant with his words.

“Is it Janet?”

“No, Lucy. It’s not.” He groans a frustrated groan, and his hands fist in front of him. “Janet’s…She’s worried about me. About youandme.” He gestures his hand between us. “She told me I should talk to you. And…I don’t even knowhowto do that when things…” He stops talking, and I want to put my hands on him. On his arm, on his face, anything to calm him down because he looks so shaken and angry.

But instead, I stay quiet. I feel like I can hear my heart beating in my ears, the blood rushing in loud swooshing noises through my head. He looks at me and studies me. He starts crowding toward me, forcing me to step back and hit the cold wall behind me.

“Look, Dexter. I’m sorry about everything. Once the wedding’s done and we go back home, it’ll be easier.”

He laughs dryly. He laughs like I told him some silly little joke.

“What?” I respond flatly. “What is so funny?”

“You really think me being thousands of miles away from you is going to make this easier? You seriously think?—”

“Then what? What do you want from me then?! You want me to drop my life and…” I can’t say the next words. I just can’t. It’s too scary, too daunting when I’m already unsure about so many other things in my life.

“And what, Lucy? What?”

I stay quiet, and my chin trembles.

“What do you want to do? What do you wantmeto do?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, my voice sounding weak and scared.

“Lucy—”

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