A Previous Engagement (24 page)

Of course, I didn’t expect to find him in my apartment that Monday night, so I wasn’t ready with my speech yet. Christian greeted me in an apron—seriously—with a spatula in his hand. The wafting fragrance of food met me in the doorway. He hugged and kissed me in the way our new status dictated, and I plucked a piece of shredded cheese from his hair.

“Did you cook?” I was baffled, impressed, and slightly jealous.

“Well, we’ll have to see,” he shrugged. “I decided to give lasagna a try. I hope it’s not totally disgusting.”

As we made plates and sat down at the table, adorned with a table cloth and candles for a more romantic feeling, I learned that Christian had spent some time studying Kendra in her kitchen. She gave him the easiest recipe in her book, some helpful hints—which he made her write down, he showed me the paper—and a shopping list. He raided the closest grocery store, let himself into my apartment, and spent the afternoon cooking.

I took my seat at the table and noticed the filled wine glass. White, just as I liked it. There was garlic bread with cheese, the way I liked it. And a salad, with the tomatoes and olives on a plate on the side, the way I liked it. I supposed that’s how it would be if I dated Christian—very little to learn about each other, many years of knowledge to go on.

Date. I was on a date with Christian. Starting to panic, I shoveled some hot lasagna into my mouth. It was too hot, so I burned my tongue, yelled out, and tried to douse it with ice water. Most guys would’ve been worried, but Christian already knew what I’d done. “Sorry, it’s red hot. You okay?” he asked calmly. “More ice water?”

It wasn’t really like a date. It was just like hanging out with a friend. My stomach twisted into a knot. Sure, Tessa, if you called what you’ve been doing in that bedroom a typical, friend-like activity. I’m pretty sure it was much, much more than that.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. He was looking at me with those eyes. Those damn eyes. Looking right through me, like he could read my mind. Could he read my mind? Did he know about the job?
Did Kendra tell him?
I’ll kill her.

“I’m really glad this happened, Tessie,” Christian said, taking my hand across the table. He pinched his brown eyebrows together in sincerity, but I scoffed at him. I should’ve played it cool. Why can’t I ever play it cool?

“Please. You’re embarrassing me.”

“Why?” He squeezed my hand. My palm was sweaty, nearly on fire there inside of his. When did this physiological stuff start happening to me, anyway? All of a sudden my body just decided,
Wow, we’re going to get majorly turned on every time we see, hear, smell, touch, or think about Christian.

“Because it’s not what I want,” I said, careful to keep my tone level but firm. I pulled my hand from his and used it to chug some more of my iced water, hoping to drown the butterflies dancing inside my stomach. “You didn’t have to do all of this. I don’t want this, Christian.”

“All of what? You don’t want me?”

“No, that’s not it. That’s not what I mean at all. I just—where is this going to go? Where can it go? We’ve been friends for so long and now we’re—I don’t know what we are. But I’m afraid one of us will get hurt.”

“Well, at least one of us has
been
getting hurt for the better part of a decade.” Did he mean me or him? One look at my face, distorted in pain and confusion, and he added, “Possibly both of us.”

He reached for me again, this time around the corner of the table, and held my hand on top of my own knee. “It’s been utter madness not being able to do this, Tessie. It took a long time to see it, but it’s always been you. Imagine if you felt the same and you couldn’t tell me because you thought it would destroy our friendship?”

I froze, ignoring the tingling feeling that spread from where he touched my skin all the way up my arm, to the back of my neck. Give me a client to pitch a new ad campaign to, and I’m your girl. Give me a man that claims he’s in love with me, and well… I don’t know. I’d never been in that situation before.

“Christian,” I tried to sound serious, not like my body was yearning for more of his touch. “I just think we should—”

He patted my knee under the table and smiled at me. “I know exactly what you’re going to say and I totally agree."

“You do?”

“Yes,” he leaned over and kissed me sweetly on the lips. “And I think it’s a great idea.”

I loosened my grip on my napkin, smoothing it out on my lap. I let myself breathe. “Oh good,” I sighed. I hadn’t thought it would be so easy to start this difficult conversation, but Christian’s mind-reading powers had triumphed again.

“In fact, I want to show you something. Come on,” he stood up, pulling me with him. “Close your eyes.”

He led me down the hallway, stopping in front of my bedroom door. “Okay, open them.”

My bedroom looked the same as always: the bed was made, a row of pillows propped in front of the headboard, a dusty book rested on my night stand. One slight change, however, made all the difference in the room. Christian’s suitcase sat open on the bed, filled with neatly folded shirts and boxers, rolled socks, and other essentials. I walked into the room, inhaling sharply, and looked around for other additions. Flinging open the closet door, I discovered that he’d spent some time reorganizing my clothing and shoes to make room for his own.

“You’re…” I was speechless, overwhelmed by the sight of our belongings mingling together in the closet like we were really—we were a—we were together. My stomach lurched, protesting the waltz of the butterflies. “You’re moving in?”

He stood behind me, grinning proudly. “Surprise! I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t wait for you to ask. I found the moving boxes you had stashed in the hall closet with the note that said ‘Tell Christian’ and I thought I’d turn your surprise around on you.”

“Oh!” I manufactured my own smile, reaching up to kiss him. “Um…that’s great!”

His face fell at the flatness of my voice. “I should’ve waited, I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” I answered quickly. I couldn’t tell him now. Not
now
. “I’m glad you didn’t wait for me to tell you… This is… great. But what about the rest of your stuff? That’s not everything.”

“I’ll leave the rest in my apartment until the lease ends in August, then figure out what to do with it,” he shrugged. “Unless you want some of my furniture. Maybe the Playstation?”

I shook my head. “This is fine for now. I’m sure we’ll find room for everything when the time comes.”

Christian leaned toward me, smiling mischievously. “Who knows? Maybe we can find a bigger place together by then.” He wrapped his arms around me, kissing a path from my ear to my shirt. The initial shock faded away, the spark of anger was extinguished. I relaxed into his arms like Jell-o. He kicked his suitcase off the bed and threw me onto it instead. I let Christian make love to me, secretly thrilled at the idea of having him around day-in and day-out, but torn right down the center with the piece of unspoken news I should’ve shared.

Telling him was going to be anything
but
a cakewalk.

So instead I let the hours tick by day and night, waiting for an opportunity to break his heart. The thrill of that double life evaporated with every morning that I didn’t tell Christian over our coffee together. It was my favorite time of the day and I never wanted to leave him there, sitting in my kitchen the way I’d always fantasized about on our Coffee Wednesday dates. The way he poured the milk into my cup, fed me a bite of his blueberry muffin, kissed me goodbye and told me to “Have a great day.” It was all so weird but so perfect.

Then, at work, the magic seemed to fade and I sobered up. This job meant everything to me and I couldn’t fit Christian’s romance and dream life around my calculated career path. There wasn’t enough room. I couldn’t let him keep living his fantasy out in my apartment each day. Also, I really needed to start packing.

With only one day left, my office was already empty, all my stuff packed up into big moving boxes. Prime was picking up the tab for my relocation, so my office supplies and personal items would be overnighted to the Chicago office. When I left in the morning, I just needed the essentials with me. Everything else would be shipped to the brand new furnished apartment waiting for me in the Windy City. It was a big penthouse apartment downtown with a gorgeous view and a whirlpool tub, a dream come true.

Seriously, I peeked at the details on the apartment complex’s website and I didn’t need to buy anything. It even had an iPod docking station and a surround sound system hooked up to the Blu-Ray player and plasma screen TV. Wall mounted, no less. Even the shades on the windows were remote-control operated. This place was swanky.

And swanky was not a word I tossed around lightly.

I was relieved to have something positive to look forward to—you know, after I crushed my best friend/boyfriend’s heart and abandoned him. I’d been so busy worrying about the ripple effect in my personal life that I hadn’t stopped to think about all the positives that awaited me in Chicago. A new city to explore, a ‘swanky’ apartment to call home, a high-profile job that was mine, all mine.

Kendra called me at work Wednesday afternoon, breathing heavy. “You’ll be here at seven tonight, right?”

“What?”

“Christian’s birthday party…” she said impatiently. “Come on, you didn’t forget about your boyfriend’s birthday, did you?”

I forced a tight laugh, feeling the panic wash over me. Christian’s thirtieth… today. Suddenly, our weird morning conversation made a lot more sense. He’d said something like, “I couldn’t imagine starting this day off any better way.” I just thought he liked the outfit I was wearing, but now I felt like a giant idiot. How could I forget my best friend’s thirtieth freaking birthday?

“I called a few people and we’re going to have a small party here tonight. I remember you said something about that a while back, so I just took the liberty to plan it. I figured you’d be too busy basking in all of that afterglow,” she chuckled. “So, is seven okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I stumbled. “Sure thing. I’ll be there. Does Christian know about it?”

“I told him, yeah. No more surprises for a little while, if that’s okay with you. I didn’t want another no-show.” I agreed that it was for the best. We worked out a few details and I promised to bring some balloons. She hung up quickly to get back to cooking the food for the buffet. I went back to staring at the blank wall where the daisy photo used to be, wasting the last hours of my work day.

I stopped at home to change my clothes before the party and took a quick mental inventory of what absolutely needed to be packed. I wouldn’t have much time, so I could only grab the bare minimum. Underwear, suits, deodorant, a few movies, my laptop—just what I’d need to get through the first few days until Lucy packed and sent the rest. On the company’s dime, I was sure she wouldn’t mind. I could’ve asked Kendra, but I didn’t know if we’d be speaking once I announced my decision to go to Chicago. Lucy, if anything, would say she was going to miss me and ask to have my apartment. As far as I was concerned, she could have it.

Flinging open the closet, I made a conscious effort to ignore Christian’s shirts and ties as they stared at me from the hangers. I picked out a light, summery dress to wear and threw it over my head. Just as I was headed for the door, one shoe off and one in my hand, I remembered Finn. Where would he go? Who would take care of him after I left?

“Hey, Finn,” I said, looking toward my nightstand for my little companion. “Are you still scared of cats? Can Lucy take you back, do you think?” From across the expanse of my king size bed, I couldn’t make out any movement, so I got closer. I leaned over to see Finn at eye level and found him, turned upside-down and bloated with decay.

“Oh God! Finn!” I’d killed him. I’d killed my small charge, my confidant when things had gotten so bleak, my only responsibility outside of myself. I killed poor, defenseless, innocent Finn.

What kind of person was I turning into? I knew my limitations, that I couldn’t care for other creatures. Why had I taken him from Lucy, knowing he’d be dead in a matter of weeks with me as his sole caretaker? Stupid, stupid. Despite myself, I found tears on my cheeks as I performed a make-shift burial ceremony and flushed him down the toilet.

“Enjoy the Quabbin Reservoir, little Finn,” I said somberly, somewhat surprised at my intense reaction to his passing. My guilt continued to build as I located my shoes and climbed back into my car, headed for Birch’s. It was the right decision to go to Chicago, a more fitting choice for me and my ineptness as a nurturer. What if I forgot to feed my kids too?

I shouldn’t be living this lie with Christian at all. Birthday party or no, I had to tell him the truth and get it over with.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Once parked in the Birch’s lot, I unloaded the balloons from my car, trying to hide the despair and regret weighing on my heart. I pushed open the big wooden door and walked into the echoing foyer. I was really going to miss this place, the scene of so many memories—both good and bad. Of course, all that good food would be tragically distant from my new home in Chicago as well. Probably too far to order take out.