Round 12

T he light pouring in through the window made Patrick’s hair look like spun gold and brightened his green irises.

I looked into those eyes that had become familiar to me.

I couldn’t hurt him. I didn’t want to, and I especially didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to be single, to date, or to learn how to become comfortable with an entirely new person—comfortable enough to share my body with them.

I sat down beside him, wishing there was a rulebook, a spreadsheet, or something to tell me what to do next. It was why I loved board games. They were structured, and there was only an expected number of outcomes.

My mind raced with these thoughts as he pulled me close and slipped a condom out of his pocket. Even though we didn’t need one, he liked having “double protection.”

Patrick pressed his lips against mine, and I panicked.

“Uhm, I’m actually exhausted.” I spoke against his mouth, breaking the kiss as soon as possible.

He huffed out a sigh, twirling the shiny square between his fingers.

“I shouldn’t have agreed to see you today. I have an assignment to finish, and now there’s a deadline for my game too.” The mere mention of it nearly tugged a smile out of me. All I wanted to do was tweak it. It had been a long time since I’d felt so excited about working on something. “I have all these ideas. I was thinking I could—”

Patrick laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s fun, but remember the MBA is more important.”

“I know.” My enthusiasm dipped to the depths of my stomach.

“What about a quickie?” He kissed me again.

My body recoiled against his touch. Everything about it was wrong. Undeniably wrong. The truth sucker-punched me in the gut, leaving me breathless. It had been wrong for a long time.

“We should break up,” I blurted as our lips parted.

“What?” He pulled back, his eyes on fire. “You can’t be serious.”

My words choked me, and I shook my head, trying desperately to cough out what I needed to say.

His lip curled. “I’ve been trying. I’m here every Saturday, and some game nights. I watch you and your friends play those silly games for hours.” Standing, he shoved the condom into his pocket.

“I know.” I fixed my gaze on my hands. “But… I’m not happy. We’re not happy. You don’t like spending time with me or my friends. We don’t go out on dates. We barely talk.” I wiped a stray tear. “And we haven’t slept together in a really long time.”

“It’s not like you even enjoy it, and that’s not my fault.” He inhaled sharply, as if wishing he could suck back the words.

My mouth fell open, but before he could retract it or before he said something that would hurt even more, I rolled the dice and bet on myself. I wanted more than this.

“I’d like you to leave,” I said with no hesitation in my voice, despite my risk-averse brain flagging my words.

“Rose.” He looked at me, but I stayed planted where I was. He walked to the door and waited a few seconds with his back to me. “This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening,” he mumbled.

When I didn’t budge, he let himself out without a backward glance.

Over the next few weeks, I spent all my time on my work and studies, neglecting both my board game and game night.

Not because of heartache, which there was little of. I’d mourned our relationship long before it ended. But I wanted no one else’s voice but my own in my head while I processed it.

Neema, ever concerned, brought me treats and more tea than I could drink, and hugged me at every opportunity. I hadn’t been calling my mom, but I could clearly hear her on the phone with Neema, both of them increasingly worried about me.

When I wasn’t at home, Shaun fussed around me at work. He had a similar strategy.

Treats. Tea. Hugs.

Once, when he was hugging me, one of our colleagues walked by us and whispered, “So glad you two finally got together.”

Even that didn’t deter him.

When I couldn’t handle it anymore, I showed up at game night, intent on proving to everyone I was okay. Plus, it was my turn to pick a game, and I’d been itching to play Clue.

I kneeled beside the coffee table and set up the game. Everyone tiptoed around me—including William, which was strange because he always made his presence known.

Tonight he wore black jeans and a gamer T-shirt that fit him far too well.

“Hot date?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’d never miss game night,” he teased, ruffling his hand over his hair in an attempt to tame it. At some point, I’d have to tell him how pointless that was.

“It’s been a while since you brought a girl over,” Neema said, bringing me yet another cup of tea. “I rather enjoyed watching those women slobber all over you. They were always ultra-nice to me in an attempt to impress you.”

William rolled his eyes and sat at his desk. “Oh, stop.”

Shaun sat down on the couch. “William can charm the pants off the pantsless. That’s why I don’t leave any of you alone with him.”

“Dark magic,” I mumbled.

William’s groan turned to a laugh, and I was grateful that the focus was on his love life instead of mine.

Our phones pinged simultaneously, and Neema glanced up from her screen. “Claire’s texted the group to say she’s not coming. Hannah’s got the flu. She’s really sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. Her eighteen-month-old with a viral infection probably needs her more than her adult friend who is perfectly fine ,” I enunciated the last two words and made eye contact with all of them.

I also knew that, if Claire wasn’t coming, Lincoln wouldn’t come either. Even after all these years of friendship, he still battled with social anxiety. I turned to face William. “And you, I hope you weren’t kidding about being excited for game night because now you have to play.”

William’s mouth tilted upward as he hopped up from his desk and joined us around the game table. “Seeing as you’re perfectly fine , I won’t let you win this time.”

He really didn’t. Jerk. After losing Clue because William caught me out, I walked out to the balcony for a moment alone. There was a slight breeze, but the moon was bright and almost yellow amid a starless sky—which was soon interrupted by William’s dark shadow sliding over me.

Leaning his elbows on the railing on my left, he stared out at the ocean ahead. “I’m sorry.”

“For winning?” I shrugged. “Don’t be. You did it by the book, although I don’t know how you keep doing it.”

“About Patrick.”

I wasn’t sorry. But it didn’t seem appropriate to say that.

“Love is temporary.” I turned and offered him a wink, repeating the words he’d said to me not too long ago.

His dark eyes met mine, and while we’d been talking a lot lately, having his full focus left me speechless. Dark magic. Like I said.

I tucked a lawless tendril of my black hair behind one ear and offered him a smile. “I’m fine. Tell everyone to stop worrying.”

His mouth pursed upward to the side, pushing in his deep dimple. He turned back toward the vast ocean in the distance. “Well, that’s good to know.”

Standing side by side, we drank in the comfortable silence. After the longest time, he gripped his hands around the railing and then turned to face me with one of his black eyebrows arched.

“Are you fine enough for some constructive criticism?” From his back pocket, he pulled out the folded notebook he’d written in while we’d played my game.

A wave of nausea swirled inside me. I wrung my hands. “No. I don’t know. How mean are the comments? I know we do this thing where we’re mean, but I—” I shook my head. “I’m really nervous.”

“We’re Playing Nice, remember?” The light in his eyes sparkled much like the stars I’d been staring at.

He flipped through the pages, the chunks of black ink clear on the white paper. “But it’s too much to discuss right now.” He tilted his chin toward the door behind him. “Sounds like Neema’s about to leave.”

“That looks like a lot of criticism,” I blurted, my gaze still fixed on the little book. “Was it bad? Be honest.”

“No.” A soft laugh escaped him, and his lips tilted up on one end. “It was good, really good. But if you let me, we could make this game even better.”

His voice dropped an octave as he spoke, shaking something inside me.

“I could come by on the weekend, if that’s okay?” I pushed myself back from the railing, creating space between us, then I did what I knew how to do best with William—I teased him. “I imagine your day starts at noon, after you’ve evicted some poor woman from your bed.”

His eyes gleamed, and a wide grin crossed his face. It held a dare. “Jealous?”

My heart rate skyrocketed.

I wasn’t sure I was ready to play this round with him.

Instead, I retreated to the safety of Round 1. I scrunched up my face and told him to go away.

And he did. He turned around and made his way to the door. “Good night, Rose.”

“Wait!”

I caught up to him and he froze, glancing down at me with an expression I couldn’t place.

“You didn’t say what time,” I said. “Should I come here or…?”

“Or?” He grinned. “Am I being invited to your place? Oh my, the Shire. How exciting.”

“What time, you miscreant?” I nearly growled and poked his hard bicep.

He flinched and rubbed the spot. “Noon. Because according to you, I have to get a strange woman out of my bed.” His lips hitched up before he stepped back into the apartment.

Such an idiot.