The Rom-Commers

by Katherine Center

None of those things were deal-breakers … but maybe the fact that he was listing them was. How fully, incontrovertibly, utterly uninterested in me must he be to construct a whole case against himself like that—to my face? I took a five-point-five-second breath. “Okay,” I said, nodding. “Okay, what?” “Okay, I get it.” “You do?” I nodded. “You really don’t like me.” I nodded some more. “I’ll stop bothering you. I got carried away. I’ve never had a writing partner before. Or lived with a guy. I must have”—and here I quoted him again—“connected dots that didn’t need or want to be connected.” Charlie glanced away. “I kept thinking we must be having a misunderstanding. But there is no misunderstanding. Is that right?” Charlie nodded and met my eyes again. “There is no misunderstanding.” “You know I like you, and you know I am propositioning you,” I said. “And any feeling I keep having that you like me, too, is just wishful thinking bending my perceptions—because you are clearly, plainly saying no.” Charlie nodded, like he was really sorry about it. Then he said, “I am clearly, plainly saying no.”