“Please. I need to see you.”
I wanted to say yes, but what was the point? “Not tomorrow. I need more time.”
He sighed. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. I wanted him to get in his fucking car and drive over here and make me believe that love could win. But he couldn’t. No one could.
“It is.” My heart ached horribly in my chest, and I wanted to cry so damn badly.
He was silent a moment. “Okay. I love you, Hannah. So much it hurts.”
I nodded, the tears finally spilling over. “Me too.”
Tuesday was miserable. Wednesday was worse. Without work I had nothing to distract me. I spent both days lying in bed feeling sorry for myself and wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by falling for Wes, or if I’d make it by walking away. I thought the days to myself would help me see the answer, but they didn’t. And I missed him terribly. He was at once the only person who could make me feel better and the cause of my anguish.
Wednesday night I got myself together enough to go to Wine with Widows at Tess’s house, but I was almost sorry I did, because all of us were having a bad week. Tess’s sister had been diagnosed with breast cancer, Grace was struggling with the anniversary of her boyfriend’s death, Anne’s cat had had to be put down—the one her husband had gotten her for her last birthday before he died. When it was my turn to speak, I admitted to what had been going on with Wes, but said I was struggling with it because his mother disapproved so strongly. We tried to comfort each other, but it was hard not to leave the meeting wondering at the frailty of life and the futility of love.
I thought about calling my therapist, whom I hadn’t seen since August, but I was embarrassed by the setback and knew she’d only tell me this was all in my head, just like Wes had.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t.
On Thursday morning the piano was delivered, and I sat there staring at it for an hour, marveling that it had only been five days ago that we’d shopped for it. I’d been so hopeful that day.
I was so desperate for some distraction, I called Georgia to see if they needed me at the inn, by any chance.
“We don’t, but are you okay? You don’t sound too good.”
I didn’t want to worry her, but suddenly the truth came out. “No. I’m not. I kind of feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“Whoa. Is it Wes? Or something else?”
“It’s everything, but I think it’s stemming from what’s going on with Wes.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I bit my lip. “You can’t talk. You’re at work.”
“True, but why don’t we meet up later for a drink or something?”
“I’d have to see if I can get a sitter.”
“Do it. I’ll check with Pete and make sure he can watch Cooper. Should I invite Margot?”
“Sure. I’m open to all advice.”
I called my sitter and she said she could do it, so I texted Georgia I could make it work. About twenty minutes later, she replied.
Great. I’m in, and Margot is too. Let’s try the new martini bar downtown. With a Twist. About 5?
Sure, I texted back. See you there.
“So what happened?” Georgia asked. We were sitting in a small, round booth at the back of the bar, which was small, dimly lit, and not very busy. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure how well a martini bar was going to do around here, but it was a nice place, cozy and romantic. Even the music was perfect, the old standards I loved. If Wes and I could ever be seen on a date together, it would be the perfect spot.
“A lot.” I picked up my Lemon Drop and took a sip. “And none of it good.”
“But it was going so well, I thought,” Margot despaired. She looked right at home in this kind of bar with her elegant blond blowout and perfect red lips. She was drinking a martini that looked ominously clear, and pretty simple, considering the amount of instructions she’d given the server on how the bartender should make it.
“It was. But then it all went to hell.” I told them what had happened, starting with the gossipy texts I’d gotten Saturday night.