17 Untying Your Knots

17

untying your knots

Alexander

I can hear the derision in her words, but there’s also something else. Is it resignation or exhaustion, or just raw emotion? I don’t know, but I feel it too. I know her like I know myself. I know that whether she’s resentful, mad, or sad, no matter what, she is definitely crying right now.

There’s a resounding silence in the apartment. It’s deafening, constant. Dani always put music on. Twenty-four/seven there was music playing in our house. I got used to it. Now the quiet sounds like noise.

My thumb is hovering over the letters. I don’t know exactly how to respond to her.

My first text was a big step for me. I was trying to be the bigger person, but now it feels like she’s guilting me. There is no question that I am happy for Dani. Our turmoil does not take away from the fact that she is a talented writer. And even more than that, she’s a workhorse. She will be the hardest worker on the show, like she has been on every other show, except now she’ll get the well-deserved recognition.

Thirty minutes have gone by now and I have not responded. I know I need to say something.

ME: I agree, Dani, it is bittersweet. I’m sorry the cards fell this way. No one planned for it all to happen on this day.

I can hear her snarky response… I didn’t say anyone did, Alex.

I decide to add another text. I’m not just playing nice. It’s true, she deserved the show.

Me: I wish you the best nonetheless. I know more than anyone how much you deserve this show.

The next thing I know, my alarm is going off. I had fallen asleep, fully clothed, with my phone in hand. It’s four-thirty in the morning, the usual time I wake up. Most days I go for a run, or hit the gym near the clinic for a quick workout, but today I hit Snooze. I hit it over and over again until I am running late for my 9 a.m. patient. This is so unlike me.

For twenty minutes I scramble around, frantically getting ready. Somehow, I make it out the door at ten minutes to nine. Normally ten minutes would be enough time to get to the clinic, but it’s rush hour. I’m parking twenty minutes after nine.

Jenna, my very pregnant clinical supervisor, greets me at the back door. She’s due any day now and I still need to fill her position. Jenna was the one person who was pretty shocked and disappointed when she found out Dani and I were getting divorced. I think she always looked up to Dani. In a strong and beautiful way, they respected each other, and they complimented each other often. I marveled at that display of confidence and mutual admiration. Jenna’s been running the clinic for six years. I don’t know what I’ll do when she goes on maternity leave.

“Wow, this is a first. You have Ms. Olstein in room two.”

“Is she pissed?” I whisper.

“She’s always pissed. Don’t sweat it. Oh, you do know that there are four people waiting to be interviewed by you at ten, right?”

“Interviewed by me?” I say.

“Yes, temps for my position.”

“Oh…don’t you just want to choose the person?”

She reaches up and straightens my collar. She’s scowling. “Have you been drinking?”

“No!” I’m marginally offended.

“Alex, you have to pick someone from that lot out there today. They’re all qualified, I’ve vetted them, it’s just up to you now. Get a feel for their personalities. Before you do anything, though, grab a breath mint from my desk. Also, you have a smudge on the back of your pants.” She looks dumbfounded as she says this. Dani did not take care of me that way. I’m meticulous about grooming and looking professional, but I’ve been way off lately. It’s obviously because of the divorce. For the record, though, aside from washing my clothes, Dani didn’t iron or pick out my clothes and she certainly didn’t groom me, for god’s sake. Still, I know what Jenna is thinking. “What is going on with you?” she says. “I’ve never even seen a day’s worth of growth on your face like this before.”

“My divorce was final yesterday. I’m not implying Dani did these things for me, just that I’ve been going through a lot. Missing a day of shaving does not make me a bum.”

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she says, but she doesn’t seem truly apologetic or compassionate. “Maybe you don’t realize this, but sometimes marriage is like two fruit trees. It might appear they’re doing their own thing, but take one away and the other won’t produce.”

Oh no, no marriage analogies, please.

“ I’m going to produce, Jenna!” I say a little too loud.

She starts laughing. “Oh my god, Alex. Be quiet. Go get in there before Ms. Olstein files a complaint.”

I throw my backpack in my office and scurry down the hall to room 2. When I’m finished looking at Ms. Olstein’s foot for the thousandth time, I head back toward my office. Jenna has spotted me and is now following me down the hall. “Okay, should I send the first temp in?” she says.

“Sure.”

Taking a look in the mirror on the wall, I try to pull myself together. I’m not exactly the picture of an upstanding boss at the moment. I know I only have about thirty minutes with all of these people before my next patient appointment.

In walks a young woman, attractive, wearing glasses, her dark hair up in a loose bun. There’s a hint of Dani from her twenties in there somewhere.

“This is Kate Littlefield,” Jenna says.

She reaches out and shakes my hand. I’m not sure what to say, I’m a little out of it. I haven’t interviewed anyone in years.

“Nice to meet you,” I say. “You can have a seat.”

“Thank you,” she says, and sits.

Jenna hands me a folder with some handwritten notes on it.

Graduated from Berkeley. Business degree. Wants to start a free clinic. Nice. Not a criminal. References all checked out.

“Hmm,” I say and look up at her. She’s poised, eyebrows arched, waiting for me to say something. “So why do you want to start a free clinic? You a masochist or something?” I smile. It was a terrible joke.

She just blinks at me and then starts nervously laughing. “Um…um—” she says before I cut her off.

“You’re hired, okay? Let’s not torture the rest of the people out in the waiting room. I mean, this is just a temp job.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she says. She’s very nice.

“You’re welcome. When can you start training with Jenna?”

“Now?” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Perfect. Jenna!” I yell as I see her walking by the door.

She pops her head and giant belly into the room. “How’s it going?”

“Jenna, I hired Kate. Can you start training her now?”

“Wow, okay. You don’t want to see the others?”

“No sense in putting them through the ringer.”

“Great, I’ll let them know,” Jenna says. “Kate, follow me.”

Hours go by, patients are in and out. Kate is already manning the front desk of our small clinic while Jenna and I are going over patient files in my office.

“I left a few folders in the front, let me go grab them,” I say to Jenna.

I’m in the hall looking through a stack of folders. I can see the back of Kate’s head from where I am, but I can’t see the other side of the front desk. I hear the door jingle.

That’s weird, I don’t have any more patients today.

“Hello, do you have an appointment to see the doctor?”

“The doctor?” It’s Dani’s voice. “Yeah, tell him his five o’clock is here.”

I dart around the corner and come face-to-face with Dani.

“You have them calling you ‘doctor’ now?” she says with her signature condescending humor.

“Kate is new, as of today, Dani. She’s filling in for Jenna, who is about to pop, if you recall.” I look at Kate, who appears confused. “Kate, this is Dani, my…my…”

“Baby mama,” Dani says with a laugh. She seems chipper, which is odd.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Nice to see you too, Alex. Am I not allowed here now?”

“Let’s go talk in my office.” Dani is carrying a large Target bag. I take in her appearance as I follow her down the long hall. From behind, I barely recognize her. She’s thinner, with the light brown hair that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to.

“Jenna!” she says exuberantly as she enters my office. Her arms are outstretched. Jenna stands and approaches Dani for a hug.

“Hi, oh my god, you look amazing! Your hair looks fantastic!”

Dani shrugs with feigned humility. “I don’t know if I’m gonna keep it, but it’s fun for now.”

Fun. Why would she say it’s fun?

“So is it true what they say? Blondes have more fun?”

“Enough with the love fest, ladies,” I say.

Dani looks at me and scowls, “What’s your problem?”

I just stare. She turns her attention back to Jenna. “Not sure I would call this blonde, but anyway, I’ve always thought that redheads have the most fun. But look at you! You are glowing .”

Jenna has red hair and she isn’t glowing, she’s perspiring. I’m exasperated. This is exhausting. “Jenna, will you give us a minute? Actually, you can head out, we can finish this training tomorrow,” I say.

Dani and Jenna hug one last time. “I want to hold that baby soon,” Dani says.

“Of course. Good night, guys.”

“She’s such a pro,” Dani says to me.

“Yeah,” I say. “She acts like she’s not even pregnant. By your third, I guess it’s old news.” I catch myself, realizing that Dani’s third pregnancy ended with a second-term miscarriage. She’s staring at me, her smile fallen. “I’m sorry, Dani. I wasn’t thinking when I said that.”

“Thinking about what?”

This is where I start to lose my footing with her. I can’t read her expression and I don’t know how to tread. Is she testing me? Or did she really not get the connection? For so many years I have held my tongue. In this situation, I would normally shrug and change the subject, but I’m no longer trying to avoid her wrath. I don’t need to anymore. I can leave, or tell her to leave if she gets pissed.

“About your third pregnancy,” I say. She’s still just looking at me, her expression inscrutable. “The little girl we lost.” My tone is sympathetic but still guarded.

Her eyes well up. “It’s nice to hear you acknowledge her.” Dani starts to break down a little, but I can tell she’s fighting it viciously. We didn’t name the babies we lost. Our girls. For some reason, it never felt right. I don’t know what to do with myself. For a moment, I take stock of my own feelings. I imagine having a daughter. Dani is so close to our boys, sometimes I find myself envious of her connection to them. I wonder if having a daughter would feel like having someone in my corner. A strange, empty feeling comes over me. My heart races, the blood drains from my face. I feel tears start to come, but I shake them away.

Is this grief?

She sees me swallow in a slightly exaggerated way, which is something I do when I’m nervous or emotional. She cocks her head to the side. I think she’s surprised. Finally, she sniffles and breaks the silence. “I brought you another set of sheets. In case the others were ruined. ”

“They’re not ruined. Maybe stained.”

“Well, it might be easier to have two sets. We can just replace them every time we trade places.”

“Why would we need to do that? Seems like a lot of sheet-washing.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Just throw them in the cabinet at the apartment. They were on sale and I was right down the street. The boys are at practice. I have to get back. Have a good weekend.” She sets the bag down and heads for the door. “Bye, Alex,” she says without turning around.

My stomach tightens. The pain of our history is too much for either of us to tolerate.

Later, I find myself dozing off in my clothes again, in the lonely, quiet apartment, my phone in hand, waiting for something…or someone…to break this deafening silence. If anyone ever asks me when it was that I realized I was truly alone in the world, I will tell them it was this moment right now.

—

Getting to the eighteenth hole of the golf course was a complete blur. I barely remember waking up this morning, but here I am, on a Saturday, finishing up a round of golf with Brian. I do know he’s been talking incessantly about inflation trends in the twenty-first century. It’s easily the most somniferous topic I can think of, so maybe that’s why I don’t feel awake.

“You should record yourself talking about this and then sell it as a cure for insomnia,” I say.

We get into the golf cart and head down the fairway looking for our drives. Mine is somewhere out of bounds. At this point, I’m over golfing. Brian’s perfect two-hundred-yard drive is right in the middle of the beautifully manicured fairway .

“You don’t think it’s interesting how wildly unstable inflation is?” he asks.

“No, but that’s okay. Are you going to write about that in something?” We’re at Brian’s ball. I drop a ball next to it. He gives me a look. I roll my eyes and say, “I’m not going looking for my ball. Just add one million to my score, I’ve already broken a hundred.”

“That’s no fun, man.” He swings the club, laying his ball up about two feet from the hole. I shake my head. Brian is one of those people who is good at everything but too scatterbrained to care. “No, I’m not going to write about it. It would be pretty boring, wouldn’t it?” he says.

I swing. The ball floats into a small pond to the left of the green. It’s far enough away from the hole to be odd. “What the—” I say.

“It’s amazing. You will find water no matter where it is,” Brian says.

I let Brian finish the round. I don’t think I’ve ever given up like this before, but I’ve lost two sleeves of balls and I’m calling it a day. We head back to the clubhouse in the golf cart.

“You want to get dinner here?” I say.

“No way. Let’s go home and change and go somewhere good. This place is stuffy.”

He’s right, it is. “Where do you want to go?” I ask.

“You have a bunch of cool restaurants right by the apartment, right?”

There is a bit of a bar scene a couple blocks away, but I don’t really want to mention that. I’m afraid Brian’s “being single” rhetoric will make its way back into our conversation.

“Commerce and G? Is that place cool?”

He’s referring to a trendy American foodie haven by the apartment, where the bartenders are those extremely hip know- it-alls with mustaches and suspenders, who describe in great detail the molecular weight and peaty undertones of some cheap Tennessee whiskey they charge thirty-five dollars a shot for. That’s how cool it is.

“A little too cool,” I say.

“Let’s try it. Who cares if we’re the oldest guys there?” he says.

We won’t be if we go early enough. It does turn into quite a scene after ten, but I plan on being in bed by then, so I agree to meet him there.

Back at the apartment, I shower and get dressed, but don’t bother shaving. I throw on a gray sweater, pants, and some light blue Vans slip-ons. I look in the mirror at my two days of growth and intentionally casual attire and realize that I’m just the older version of those tool bags with mustaches. I’m the Silicon Valley hipster circa 2010, trying way too hard to look like I’m not trying.

I head out the door before I drive myself crazy. Walking on the street feels good. When I get to the restaurant, Brian is already seated at the bar, nibbling on Marcona almonds and sipping something that looks expensive.

“Hey, buddy. I ordered some apps,” he says. “Have a seat. Whaddya want to drink?” He motions for the female bartender to come over. She looks pissed, but I know she’s not, it’s just part of the style here.

“Can I just get a vodka soda?” I say to the bartender.

She stares at me for too long.

“They don’t have vodka here,” Brian says.

“Why?” I say directly to the girl.

“Because we only serve food and liquor that tastes good.” She will not crack a smile.

“Oh, okay. Why don’t you make me your specialty, then?” I say .

“Great,” she hums a vague tune as she turns around and gets to work.

“Don’t be intimidated,” Brian says.

“Me? I’m not. I just think this whole act is stupid.”

“Try to enjoy yourself.” Brian is looking past me in shock as he says, “Holy shit.”

“What?” I turn to see what he’s staring at. There’s a group of five people mulling around the hostess stand.

“That woman. She goes to my gym. She’s Puerto Rican. She’s so hot. Her name is Valeria. I can’t believe she’s here. I asked her out a few weeks ago. She said yes and then stood me up.”

Brian is an average-looking dude, but he seems to be a successful serial dater, so I’m surprised. I don’t think he gets stood up very often.

Valeria spots Brian and then looks at me and smiles. She holds one finger up, gesturing she’ll be over in a minute to talk to us. She’s speaking with a distinguished-looking older man, but she seems distracted. She is a striking beauty; I can see why Brian would want to date her.

Brian says, “Good, she’s coming over. I can give her a little piece of my mind.”

We wait for what seems like forever. I put in an order for an overpriced, fancy cheeseburger and slug my second twenty-five-dollar cocktail while Brian silently watches Valeria chatting.

Finally, she makes her way to us. She really is gorgeous. A dead ringer for Rosario Dawson.

“Brian, hi.” He doesn’t get up, so she leans down and gives him an awkward hug. She turns to me and sticks her hand out. “Hi, I’m Valeria.”

I shake her hand. “Alex. Nice to meet you.”

Brian is giving her the death stare. Completely deadpan he says, “Would you like a drink, Valeria? How ’bout a pint of thanks for the phone call ?”

I nearly spit out my gin-absinthe concoction. I’m laughing while Valeria is smiling apologetically toward Brian.

“I am sorry, Brian. I was going to text you. Something came up at work and I’ve been slammed for the last few weeks. This is the first time I’ve been out in a long time.”

“The last few weeks? What are you, an astronaut? You work for the Secret Service? KGB? What could it possibly be?” he says, chuckling.

“I’m actually a pediatric oncologist. Those are some of my colleagues over there.” That definitely silenced the room, so to speak.

“Oh,” Brian says. “Kids with…”

She nods. “Cancer. Yes, Brian, I am a doctor for kids with cancer.”

“Ah, I see,” he says.

“Gin?” I hand her my drink, which was served in a crystal pink antique glass. I’m surprised she takes it. It was sort of a joke.

She takes a tiny sip and hands it back to me. “Mmm, that’s good. I think I’ll have that; what is it?”

“It’s called a ‘Lip-reader,’?” I say.

She glances at the menu on the bar and laughs. “It’s an homage to Seinfeld . They’re all named after episodes.”

“Yeah, it’s clever,” I say. I’m extremely attracted to her.

She smiles at me and says to the bartender, “I’ll take three more of these,” then to me, “Mind if I sit with you gentlemen for a bit? I’ve been with those people all day.”

“Of course,” I say. I scoot one stool over so she can have mine. She’s dressed in a white silk blouse and black slacks; it’s classy, but not stuffy. There’s something elegant and refined about her. I can’t help but compare her energy to Dani’s. She’s calm and seemingly grounded, compared to Dani’s ceaseless buzzing. Dani’s personality shifts from one extreme to the other. Either she’s mentally absent and floating around in her own headspace, imagining her stories, or she’s a busy bee fueled by nervous energy. It’s exhausting.

“So,” Valeria says, “how do you two know each other?”

I take the lead because Brian is pouting. “Brian used to work with my wife, a long time ago.”

Valeria glances at my ringless left hand.

Brian corrects me, “Ex-wife.”

“Right,” I say.

“So, you guys are just getting out for a drink and some food?”

“Yep,” I say, and hand her the menu. “Do you want something?”

A moment later the bartender sets my burger down in front of me. “That looks delicious,” she says.

“I’ll share,” I tell her.

There is something happening. It’s easy with her. She’s not fussy. I cut the burger in half and she unabashedly grabs her portion and takes a giant bite.

“Mmm, this is heaven. I was starving.” She’s charming and delightful.

“Are you two having fun over there?” Brian says. Valeria shifts to create more of a semicircle so we can all talk to each other at the bar.

The three of us continue ordering drinks and fall into an easy conversation about everything from the Dodgers to the healthcare industry to having children. She’s in her forties, was divorced several years ago…no kids of her own. Her work keeps her busy and she considers her patients her kids. It feels like a friendship is forming. I like this woman, but I don’t really feel like flirting with her. I’m not ready for that, even though I can tell she’s more attracted to me than to Brian. He’s clearly given up and switched to water anyway.

The restaurant bar is closing and they’re basically shooing us out the door. On the street, Valeria is looking at her phone.

“I need to order an Uber,” she says.

Brian makes one last attempt. “I can take you.”

“Where do you live?” she asks.

“I’m like two miles away.”

“I live all the way down in Redondo,” she says.

Brian squints. “But the gym—”

“Yeah, I work in the medical building next to that gym a couple days a week. My house and regular practice are in Redondo though. It’s okay, I can get an Uber. I planned on it anyway. I just have to pee so badly. I’m gonna go back in and use the restroom.”

“Okay,” Brian says. “Nice seeing you.” He hugs her. I stand there, not really knowing what to do.

Without hesitation, she walks up to me and reaches out for a hug. “It was nice meeting you, Alex.” I can feel her slip something into my back pocket. “There’s my business card. If you ever want to chat over drinks again.”

“Oh, yes, thanks,” I say. “It was nice meeting you too.” I point down the street. “My apartment is a couple of blocks away, so I’m off. Bye, guys.”

Valeria heads back into the restaurant, Brian to his car, and I start my stroll for home. Well, the apartment.

About one minute into my walk, I hear, “Alex!”

It’s Valeria. She’s walking toward me. “Hey,” I say.

“The bar’s closed, they won’t let me in, and my Uber is still twenty minutes away.”

She’s staring at me, waiting for me to respond. “Okay,” I say, a little dumbfounded .

“Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

“Oh my god, sorry, yes, I do. I didn’t know what you were asking me.”

She laughs lightly. “Yeah, I’m about to pee my pants.”

“Sorry, let’s go, it’s right up here.”

We walk briskly to the stairs that go up to my apartment. I hesitate, wondering if this is okay. Would Dani be fine with it?

“Hey there, Dani and Alex,” comes a voice. “Off to do the graveyard shift. Have fun, kiddos!” It must be Candy. She’s walking by. Shit.

“Bye, Candy,” I say weakly as Valeria and I head up the stairs. I turn to her, “I’ll explain.”

She laughs again. “You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

She’s easygoing. Inside, I lead her to the bathroom and then walk back down the hallway toward the kitchen. She comes out a couple of minutes later and stops to look at the pictures Dani has put up.

“Have you heard of a nesting apartment?” I say.

“Yes, I have. I figured it was something like that. It’s cool you guys get along well enough to do this for the kids.”

She’s intuitive and observant.

“Well, it’s still in its trial phase.”

I want to know everything about this woman, but I’m uncomfortable and it’s showing with my awkward silences. She holds her phone up.

“Oh no, what is going on? Damn. My Uber was canceled. Another twenty minutes. I’m tempted to start walking.” She laughs.

“No, it’s okay. You can wait here.”

She glances at the bottle of red wine Dani left on the counter. “That’s a good wine, a good year for a pinot.”

“Yes,” I say. I am frozen. The bottle is open, still has three-quarters left. “Would you like a glass? ”

“Wow, for moment there I thought I was going to have to send smoke signals.”

I laugh, then walk over, pour two glasses, and hand one to her. We’re still standing near the kitchen counter.

“Yeah, this is a good wine,” I say, though I have no clue what I’m talking about.

“Well, let’s enjoy it. I’ll get the Uber in a few minutes.”

I glance at the clock on the wall. It’s 12:45. I don’t think I’ve been up this late since the nineties, but strangely, I’m not tired.

She walks toward the record collection, and I quickly move into gear. “I’ll put some music on.” I’m trying to distract her from the records. I turn on the Bluetooth speaker to an old jazz station. “Have a seat.” I gesture toward the couch and take a seat myself.

She walks to the front of the couch to sit next to me so I instinctively stand to be polite. We’re face-to-face. She moves an inch closer. “Good manners,” she says in a low voice as she bends to set her wine down on the table.

She’s so close to me now. We’re standing still and quiet in front of the couch. It will be weird if I don’t kiss her, but I cannot bring myself to make the move. She leans up and kisses me instead. In the moment it feels normal, just a little different than Dani, but I can hardly remember kissing Dani anymore anyway.

I move my hand to cup the back of her neck. She makes a small, satisfied sound. She’s getting more into it, her hands squeeze my biceps tightly.

Pulling away, I take a breath and say, “That was nice.” I don’t know what possesses me to do this, but I pause for a moment and look down at her feet. She’s wearing sandaled heels and she has the weirdest toes I’ve ever seen. They look like my ninety-year-old grandmother’s fingers.

Why did I look? She takes a step forward, closing the last little bit of distance between us. The toes keep flashing in my mind. Candy breezing by thinking Valeria was Dani keeps flashing in my mind. My kids keep flashing in my mind.

I kiss her again. She’s pressing her body against me, but suddenly I’m entirely not in the mood. When she realizes this, she moves her hand down to touch me.

Oh my god! It’s not going to work.

All I can think about is that if her toes look like old fingers, what do her hands look like? When she realizes nothing is happening, she stops.

I step back and breathe in and out dramatically. “You are stunning,” I say, out of breath.

“You think?” she says with a half smile, a condescending look.

“I’m sorry. I am so in my head right now. I just got out of a twenty-two-year-long relationship.” I search for something else to say, but I’ve got nothing.

Valeria seems to be contemplating something. I watch her thinking for a moment. She is gorgeous. If I wanted to, I could make this all happen right now.

“Alex, I’m established, in my forties…and I’ve been divorced. I’m not looking for that. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have even returned your call after tonight.”

I jerk my head back, feeling oddly wounded. Despite what she said, she’s closing the distance between us again.

“Uh-huh,” I say. It finally hits me. It’s just sex. I’m going to have sex with this woman and then never see her again. I bend and kiss her again, this time for a long time. I’m thinking about where I’m going to do this. On the bed Dani will sleep in tomorrow? On the sheets she washed for me? In the apartment she told me was off-limits?

Pulling away again, I say, “I’m sorry.” But now I am turned on and she knows it .

She smiles with compassion. “I understand, Alex. I really do.” She cups my cheek with her hand. “You’ll get there. Just not tonight.” She reaches down to the table and picks up her phone.

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh perfect! There’s an Uber right here,” she says as she picks up her purse and starts walking toward the door.

This is like my dream woman. I can’t believe I’m letting her go. She is so understanding, easygoing, calm, beautiful, sexy, and she doesn’t want a relationship, but I cannot get out of my headspace enough to sleep with her.

She opens the door to leave, then turns around. She’s looking back at a photo on the table by the door. “I remind you of her, don’t I?”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Dani has much prettier toes than you. Valeria doesn’t remind me of Dani. The only similarity is that she’s witty and intelligent and has dark hair. Valeria’s demeanor is completely different, but I can see why she would think that after seeing the picture of Dani and the boys hiking the Zion Narrows. It was taken from far away and it just shows Dani’s figure and dark hair, but you can’t really see her face. I don’t want Valeria to take my behavior the wrong way. “Maybe we can try to get together—”

“No thank you, Alex. It really isn’t you. You’re charming, a blast to be around, and I’m clearly attracted to you, but I just do not have time to date and it’s not fair of me to lead anyone on.”

I smile, strangely relieved. “Okay. Well, again, nice meeting you.”

We hug, she leaves, and I go straight to bed. It’s been a long day. For the first time in many years the smell of Dani on the pillow is comforting.