Page 11 of One More Chance

Me:How did you get my number?

And I genuinely want to know, because I sure as hell didn’t give it to him.

Jensen:Gentry gave it to me. I asked him if I could have it in case of emergencies. You know, wedding emergencies. Plus, I’m your plus one. I mean, we have to coordinate.

Jensen:Maybe?

I hesitate, knowing just how badly this game can go sideways. Pushing my anxiety aside and figuring human interaction could be good for me when I eventually go on a date, I indulge.

Me:My favorite nostalgic food is grilled cheese with pickles.

Jensen:That actually sounds delicious and I want to try one immediately.

Me:Oh. Well, I guess I could make you one?

Jensen:You would do that for me? :)

Me:Sure. For lunch tomorrow?

Jensen:Deal!

He seems really excited about the sandwich. A little too excited. I feel extremely awkward about all of this.

Jensen:Am I bugging you? Is it your bedtime?

Me:No, I barely sleep these days.

Jensen:Same. I’m a night hawk.

Several minutes go by and I wonder if he’s lost interest, actually thinks I’m crazy, or has fallen asleep and isn’t really the night hawk he’s claimed to be. While I wait, I save him in my phone as “Night Hawk” and laugh.

Jensen:I don’t like sleeping alone.

Me:I’m divorced.

I typed and sent it before I even thought about stopping myself. I’m not sure why I did. I mean, if I can’t tell Jensen, harmless Jensen, how am I going to be able to tell a date? I have to press onward.

Jensen:That sucks. I’m sorry. What happened?

Me:He left me for another woman.

Jensen:Jesus. What an idiot.

I smile at his attempt to make me feel better about the ordeal. I mean, Jensen doesn’t know me or the marriage, so I know he’s just being nice, but still.

Me:It’s been over a year and a half, so I guess it’s time to move on.

Jensen:Oh yeah? Move on how?

Me:Date other people, I guess.

Jensen:Well, technically, you are. I’m your plus one DATE, remember?

Me:How could I forget? You’ve only reminded me like four times.

The texting grows quiet again and I flip back to the dating app. I give three more thumbs downs and two thumbs ups. And then a flashing message appears in my inbox. Holy shit, someone messaged me. Before I can click on it, I’m distracted by a knock on my bedroom door.

I push the blankets down and stand, phone in hand, still partially looking at the screen as I open the door. I glance up and back down and then immediately up again, making eye contact with Jensen.