Page 108 of His Secret
Her face lights up a bit. “Thank you.” Silence stretches. “I’ve been feeling like things have been off between us,” sheadmits. “I think we need more date nights. The move has been stressful for us both.”
I don’t know how to tell her it’s not just the move. Did she not feel the distance before? Was I better at masking my feelings prior to coming here? I don’t want to promise to be better knowing I can’t keep that promise. I don’t want to agree to more dates, but I also can’t just say, ‘Well, I’m gay, that’s why things are off. Let’s get a divorce.’
I sigh. “Yeah, I’ve been really overwhelmed,” I tell her, since it’s not a lie.
“Talk to me,” she says, reaching for my hand. “We used to be such good friends.”
I give her a small smile. “I liked when we were friends.”
She blanches and I realize I may have made a mistake. “Well, I’d like to think we still are.”
“Of course,” I say. “But our relationship didn’t really start out in a normal way.”
“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t real.”
I bite my tongue. “You’re not upset that we were forced into this?”
“Of course I was. You remember how angry I used to be, but it’s clear our parents had our best interests in mind. I’ve become so much better since being with you. I’m like a whole new person with a new outlook. You’ve helped me so much, Adrian. You still do. I don’t want to let you down, which is why I try so hard to stay sober.”
“Charlotte,” I start, not knowing how to word what I want to say. “I want you to stay sober for yourself. You shouldn’t do that for me, you know?” She nods, looking down at the tablecloth. “You’re so strong. You’ve come so far, and I know you can keep it up.”
She glances at me, a smile on her lips. “Thank you.”
“And I don’t think our parents hadourinterests in mind at all. Maybe yours, definitely theirs, but not mine.”
She looks like she’s about to say something, but the waiter arrives, bringing us some dessert.
Our previous conversation is never brought up again, but it sticks in my brain, eating away at me.
I won’t be able to do this much longer. I know that. But how do I give her this news and make sure she doesn’t spiral? She’ll be hurt enough as is, but I don’t need her slipping into bad habits, and that pressure is heavy.
Before we leave the restaurant, she slides into my side of the booth and takes a couple of photos of us since she said it’s the first time she’s been dressed up in a while.
In the car ride home, she rests her hand on my leg, her fingers making circles and tracing lines. I feel tense but she doesn’t seem to notice.
As we pull into our driveway, I notice a couple lights on in Matías’s house, and wonder what he’s doing.
In the room, she kicks off her shoes and walks toward me, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head on my chest.
I know where this is going. It’s even an understandable next move for a married couple. Our first date night in a while should lead to sex, since it’s been a while since we’ve done that, too.
And while I used to be able to just grin and bear it, I now have Matías in the back of my mind. He’s right next door, knowing I was on a date tonight, possibly worried about me having sex right now.
It’s strange and wrong, but it feels like I’m cheating on him too.
“I’m gonna use the bathroom real quick,” I tell her, extracting myself from her grip and rushing off.
I close and lock the door and then turn on the faucet. I stare at myself wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do. My stomach is in knots. I try to come up with an excuse. Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I got food poisoning and it’s already working its way through my system. Maybe I have someone call me and pretend there’s an emergency, but what the hell would that be? My job doesn’t have late night emergencies that would require me to leave.
I even think to text my dad and tell him to call me, just because it would keep me from what’s sure to come as soon as I step out of the bathroom. But I really don’t want to talk to him, especially not in front of Charlotte when I know what the conversation will be about.
When I finally exit the bathroom, Charlotte’s already changed and wearing a pair of silk shorts and a matching tank top.
“I’ll be right out. Just want to freshen up,” she says as she passes me. Her grin tells me everything.
I strip out of my clothes and put on a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants before I climb under the covers.
My phone buzzes when I plug it in, but not from being charged. It’s a message from Matías.