Page 92 of Love Lessons
“What is this?” I ask as he hands me the pen.
“Delivery from Peter Tailor’s Menswear.”
I take the bag and unzip it the moment he leaves. Inside is a beautiful gray suit in a lightweight wool, a crisply ironed white shirt, and a tie finely striped in blue and a peach color.
There’s also a note:
* * *
Dear Ian,
I promised you suits.
Perhaps you’d rather not work with me on fashion anymore, but I know you have a wedding to attend this weekend, so I’m sending you this ensemble in your size.
Once again, I’m sorry for having called the police. It seemed reasonable at the time.
And I just want you to know how much I enjoyed spending time with you in Italy. Maybe we don’t have much in common (and the way you load a dishwasher is still all kinds of wrong), but you made me smile so many times, and I will always be grateful.
V.
* * *
I grabmy phone off the coffee table and pull up her number. In the first place, I need to make my own apology, because she deserves one. Second, I need to thank her for the suit, which was a kindness I don’t deserve.
But as my thumb hovers above the Call button, I stop myself. If I call her right now, there’s a decent chance I’ll ask her to reconsider going to that gala with her ex.
And that’s not fair. She deserves to attend that thing with an open heart.
Truly, I’m dreading this Saturday night. Not only will I be at my ex’s wedding, but it’s going to kill me to know she’s out there in some killer dress spending the evening on another man’s arm.
And who gave her pointers on how to seduce him afterwards? Me. I did that.
Fuck my life. What the hell was I thinking?
So instead of calling her—which would probably lead to me begging her not to go anywhere with that asshole—I go into my bedroom and dictate a note on my computer.
Then I spell-check it. I’m just about ready to print it out when I realize I could add a photo.
I’m too lazy to put on the whole suit, so I make do with the shirt and the tie. When it comes time to pose, I get a little creative.
She might still choose the banker over me. But I’m not going down without a fight.
THIRTY-ONE
Living My Best Life
VERA
August
On FridayI check the mail. In addition to the usual bills, I find that someone has slipped a folded letter into my box. When I notice that it’s from Ian, my heart beats a little bit faster.
Hey V—
The suit is great. Thank you so much.
If I never told you this before, you’re a generous and helpful person. I don’t deserve this favor, but I am going to wear it anyway. You do amazing work. And if anyone asks me where I got it, I’m giving him your number.
