Chapter Thirteen: The Night He Chose Both
1296 Words
Gavin was supposed to meet me at seven.
At seven fifteen, I told myself his shift had run late.
At seven thirty, I reheated the chicken.
At eight, I turned off the oven and opened my textbook at the kitchen table, pretending I could concentrate on chemical equations while checking my phone every few minutes.
He finally called at eight seventeen.
“I’m sorry.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“At Sophie’s recital.”
For a moment, I said nothing.
He had mentioned the recital weeks ago. I had simply forgotten it was tonight.
“You told me you were coming here.”
“I know.”
“Did you forget?”
“No.”
That answer hurt more.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Natalie changed the time she needed me there.”
“You could have sent a message.”
“I was dealing with Sophie. She lost one of her shoes and decided she couldn’t dance without it.”
Despite myself, I pictured the little girl in her pink leotard, crying over a missing shoe.
“Did you find it?”
“It was under the passenger seat.”
I looked at the dinner set for two.
“So you’re staying?”
“I can leave when she finishes.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Silence.
“Harper—”
“It’s her recital. Stay.”
“I promised you dinner.”
“And you promised her you’d watch.”
He released a slow breath.
“Are you angry?”
“Yes.”
“But you want me to stay?”
“Yes.”
“You make no sense.”
“I know.”
I heard children laughing behind him. A woman called his name, too far away for me to know whether it was Natalie.
“I’ll come afterward,” he said.
“It’ll be late.”
“I’ll come.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.”
Before hanging up, he lowered his voice.
“I love you.”
I looked at the second plate across from me.
“I love you too.”
---
By ten thirty, I had changed into pajamas and put the food away.
At eleven twelve, someone knocked.
Gavin stood outside wearing a dark jacket over his dress shirt. He held a small bouquet of daisies in one hand and a glitter-covered paper star in the other.
“You’re covered in sparkles,” I said.
“Sophie attacked me.”
“With craft supplies?”
“She said I needed to look festive.”
I stepped aside.
He entered and placed the daisies on the counter beside the vase from the last bouquet.
“You keep replacing them before the old ones die.”
“That’s the goal.”
“To fill my apartment with flowers?”
“To make sure you never think I forgot you.”
The words softened something I had been trying to keep hard.
I picked up the paper star.
It had **GOOD LUCK, SOPHIE** written across the front in crooked silver letters.
“She made that?”
“Eli did. She gave it to me after the recital.”
“And now you’re giving it to me?”
“I thought you could put it on the refrigerator.”
I looked at him.
“That belongs to you.”
“It belongs wherever I keep the things that matter.”
My throat tightened.
He always knew how to take an ordinary sentence and place it exactly where I needed it.
“How was she?”
“She forgot half the routine and bowed before everyone else.”
“Did she cry?”
“No. She told Natalie the other girls were behind.”
I laughed.
Gavin smiled and took off his jacket.
“Can I eat?”
“The chicken is probably dry.”
“I’ll survive.”
I reheated dinner while he sat at the table and told me about the recital. Eli had complained the entire time but secretly recorded Sophie’s performance. Natalie had brought too many snacks. Sophie had waved at Gavin from the stage and nearly collided with another dancer.
He spoke about them without stopping himself.
I listened without pretending they didn’t exist.
It should have made our relationship feel more impossible.
Instead, it made him seem more real.
When I placed the plate in front of him, he caught my wrist and pulled me closer.
“Sit with me.”
“I already ate.”
“Then watch me.”
“That sounds unpleasant.”
“Please.”
I sat across from him.
Gavin ate as though the chicken wasn’t dry and the vegetables hadn’t been reheated twice.
Halfway through, he looked at my open textbook.
“You were studying?”
“I have an exam Monday.”
“What class?”
“Organic chemistry.”
He glanced at the page.
“That looks made up.”
“It isn’t.”
“Those little hexagons are definitely made up.”
“They’re molecules.”
“Show-off.”
I smiled.
For the next hour, he asked questions about my classes, my schedule, and what I wanted to do after graduation. Not the apartment. Not his divorce.
Me.
“I might transfer,” I said. “If I can afford it.”
“To where?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Somewhere nearby?”
The question pleased me.
“You want me nearby?”
“I want you in the apartment with yellow curtains.”
I looked down.
“Three more weeks.”
“I know.”
“Have you spoken to Natalie?”
His fork stopped against the plate.
The evening shifted slightly.
Not enough to become a fight.
“I started the conversation.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I told her things can’t continue the way they are.”
“And?”
“She cried.”
Guilt moved through me.
“Were the children there?”
“No.”
“Does she know you’re leaving?”
“She knows I’m serious.”
It wasn’t everything I wanted.
But it was more than he had given me before.
I reached across the table and took his hand.
“I’m sorry she’s hurting.”
Gavin stared at our joined hands.
“You don’t have to apologize for wanting a life with me.”
“I can want it and still know someone else is losing hers.”
His expression softened.
“You’re not what Cole thinks you are.”
The mention of Cole irritated me.
“This isn’t about him.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t bring him into it.”
Gavin lifted my hand and kissed my fingers.
“All right.”
Later, we lay together with the lights off.
The glittery star was fixed to my refrigerator with an old magnet from a pizza restaurant. Gavin’s boots were beside my door. His shirt hung over the back of a chair.
Everything looked domestic.
Temporary, but domestic.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand.
He checked the screen and silenced it.
“Who is it?”
“Cole.”
“At midnight?”
“He wants someone to cover the early shift tomorrow.”
“Are you going?”
Gavin looked at me.
“No.”
He placed the phone facedown and pulled me closer.
For once, he stayed.
I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat, slow and steady beneath my ear.
I didn’t know that some choices lasted only until the next alarm.
That night, I believed Gavin had finally chosen me.
I didn’t understand that he had built his entire life around convincing two women of the same thing.
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