Page 128 of Caper Crush
“I’m sorry,” I say. “Peter put together some art shows I should apply to now that I’m back in the Vertex Art Exhibit.”
“That’s great,” William says. He covers my hand on his arm with his. We’re okay. I haven’t completely messed this up yet. My eyes tear because I do care for him so much.
Peter joins us. “I still can’t believe that Edmund actually did this to you.”
“I can believe it,” I say. My intuition was on point.
“It makes me so angry,” Peter says. “Are you okay? Emotionally?” He puts out his hand to touch mine.
“Yes,” I say. And I am. William puts his arm around me, and I smile at him.
“What do you do?” Peter asks William.
“I’m an accountant.”
“He has his own business,” I say.
Peter’s lips curve down slightly as if puzzled that I am dating an accountant. “Your mother must be delighted.”
“I’m sure she will be,” I say.
“You haven’t told her yet?” Peter asks.
“We’ve been a bit busy. I’ll tell her right before I bring William over for a family brunch next weekend.” I kiss William’s cheek. “Be prepared.”
“She was so set against me when we first dated that I felt a real sense of accomplishment when she was finally friendly. At least I knew she liked me for myself.” Peter hooks his thumbs in his pant waist. “I bonded immediately with your dad, though, right?”
“I’ve gotten along with both her parents when I met them at our uncles’ parties.” William hugs me closer to him.
Zelda pulls us back into the larger group to discuss a Fire Island rematch. What with Audrey, Eve, Max, Peter, and me, it starts to feel like a mini college reunion. Peter, in particular, keeps turning the conversation to college memories. It’s natural to discuss college-related gossip and what everyone is up to now, but it pushes William out.
I whisper to him, “Should we get another glass of wine?”
He nods yes, and we leave the group.
“Why did you and Peter break up?” William asks. “Was it just because he wanted to live in California?”
“Mostly.” I don’t really want to go into the details. I don’t want to show all my warts and insecurities to William, like how Peter and I ended up not communicating. “You’re not jealous of Peter, right?”
“No,” he says, but he says that so quickly that I suspect he might be.
“I’d be jealous if you were hanging out with your ex-girlfriend,” I say. Maybe I’m not the only jealous party in this relationship.
He harrumphs. “I expect you would be.”
But I don’t want him to be jealous. That doubt can hurt. I will show one wart.
“I was jealous of Peter’s success too. He was taking off, and I wasn’t. I don’t know how Lee Krasner and Pollack did it, or any other similar artist couples.”
“But now he can help you,” William says.
“He thinks he can. He has some good ideas.” I don’t say that I don’t want to be beholden to Peter for my success since I just spent an hour listening to him give me tips. That seems inconsistent. But tips are one thing. I want to make it on my own. Always. That’s something William and I have in common—we each want to be in charge of our own lives.
William pours us each another glass of wine, and we lean against the brick wall, sipping it. It’s been so crazy; I need this pause. I close my eyes.
“Are you bored?” William asks.
I open my eyes, expecting to see him being playful. But he looks serious.
