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Heartbroken my foot. I bet he’s having the time of his life.
“It’s not wrong to want the woman whose husband fucked my dead fiancée far away from me.”
Tough times never last, honey. Tough people, however . . .”
“Life is beautiful and wild, and it doesn’t wait for you to decide to participate in it. You need to jump into the water headfirst. And when you do? Make sure to make a splash.”
See, here in New York, women don’t let their dress size define them.” “My size doesn’t define me. My right not to answer your personal questions does.” “Humor me anyway, just for funsies.”
“Just say you’re Jupiter.” “Jupiter?” I ask, confused. “That you’re the cleaner. You know that Jupiter vacuums and absorbs comets and meteors? One estimate I read suggests if Jupiter didn’t suck objects into its sphere, the number of massive projectiles hitting the Earth would be ten thousand times greater.”
“Tell me something nice about space.” “What?” He lifts an eyebrow. I caught him off guard. “Distract me!” I roar. “All right. Close your eyes.” Unbelievably, I do. I need a second to breathe, even if my designated therapist right now is Satan himself.
“Do you believe in aliens?” I murmur, eyes still closed. “Believe in them?” he asks, surprised. “I don’t know any, so it’s hard to say I put my faith in them. Do I believe in their existence? Certainly. The question is, Are they close enough to be discovered, and more importantly—do we want to discover them?” “Yeah,” I sigh. “Maybe not. Humans have let us down. Why try our luck with other species?”
“You told me the best part of your sex life was your foreplay. That’s like enjoying the complimentary bread more than the entrée! I rest my case. Now go open a Tinder account and live your best life. Doctor’s order.”
“Arya.” I take my best friend’s wife’s hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips. “You’ll look amazing in my tux too.”
“Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce you to—” Riggs is about to tell us the name of his date—if he even remembers it. I wave him off. “Spare me. If I allowed room in my mind for all the women you introduced to us, I’d need more cloud storage.”
She also took interest in my astronomy obsession. Nobody else ever did. Which is the only reason why I’m not completely disgusted by seeing her here.
She is significantly underdressed, but a genuine smile is a jewel more priceless than any diamond necklace one could purchase.
“This man right here can’t be anyone’s favorite anything. He’s about as lovable as a juicy, pus-filled zit.”
“Winnifred, would it be improper to tell you that you look beautiful?” “No, which is why you wouldn’t do it.”
“Yup, there it is. There are horny winds coming from the east.” I stand to the moron’s east.
“Once I make up my mind about a woman, no one can save her. Not even God.”
She is soft and sugary and different. So different I cannot close my eyes and imagine she is Grace, like I want to. There’s not a hint of alcohol on her breath. No bitter bite of an overpowering perfume. She is all toffee apples and lazy Tennessee summer nights. She is church bells and sweet tea and Moon Pies. The very thing I frown upon.
“Because you want to know more about what happened with Grace and Paul, whereas I’m terrified of the truth.”
Some people turn to God for answers. I turn to science.
Winnifred actually cares.
I want to chase her. To steal another kiss,
“Oh, and by the way.” She throws one last look at me, clutching the door. “That kiss? Four out of ten. Maybe that’s why Grace cheated on you. You’re a bad kisser.”
Bumpkin is ten out of ten entertainment.
A renegade in a suit. I can’t stop thinking about our kiss. I’m not sure if it made me exhilarated, offended, delighted, or all three. It was so urgent, so dark, so desperate that it felt like sipping a magic potion.
What’s wrong with you? You’re exactly like Nina. Drawn to an impossibly tragic hero. A Trigorin. A misunderstood rebel with a cause. A fallen foe.
Pain is a great substitute for pleasure.
“Stop calling me Bumpkin.” “Stop being offended by it,” he fires back. “You shouldn’t care what anyone thinks of you. It never does a person any good. And, at any rate, people’s opinion of you is a reflection of themselves. Not you.”
“Why should you succumb to other people’s wants and expectations? You have free agency and an admirable mind. Keep shutting me down. Fight back. Never be ashamed of where you come from. A person has no future without first owning up to their past.”
“You’re hiding something.” “We’re all hiding something.” He rolls his eyes. “Some of us are just better at keeping secrets.”
“They treated me like I was powerless, because I was.” “To them,” he highlights. “Never put yourself in a position where you let people think you’re powerless again, Winnifred. They’ll always take advantage of it. I know I did.”
“Let’s grab something to eat. All this talk about infidelity and betrayal’s making me hungry.” I glance down at my phone. “It’s one in the morning.” “Yes, it is, and neither of us had dinner. I know because I’ve had my eyes on you for the last six hours.”
I side-eye him, holding the cigar away from my face. I’m done. I came, I saw, I coughed out a lung. No more.
Even though we’re not friends, I find it disappointing that everything he does to me, for me, with me, is always as a result of his obsession with Grace.
“Lay it on me, Bumpkin.” I bite down on my lower lip. “Never, ever kiss me again.” There’s a beat of silence before he throws his head back and laughs blithely. “I give you my word. I’ll keep my lips—and other organs—to myself.”
Just never touch me again.” “Why?” he asks, genuinely interested. “Forgive my honesty—not many people use it these days—but it’s not like you betrayed Paul. He is currently six feet under, in an advanced stage of decomposition—” “Arsène!” I roar, stopping in place again. “—after cheating on you, for the vast majority of your short marriage.” He ignores my outrage, soldiering through.
“While I’m right here, very much alive, and dare I say—more attractive than that oatmeal with legs and a crew cut. And you can’t tell me you don’t find me attractive, either, because I might’ve been drunk during that kiss, but my ears were working fine. And I remember, Winnifred, your heartbeat slamming against my chest. How you moaned and trembled—” “Stop!”
He grins. “You’ll be the one to kiss me all on your own.” “Dream on!” I cry out childishly.
“You’re such a coward, Winnie Ashcroft. Such a darn coward. I want Winnie Towles back.”
Because then you’ll be gone from my life and I’ll stop feeling those butterflies that I get in the pit of my stomach every time you’re around. I don’t want to stop feeling. I haven’t felt in so long, and I think I’ll go mad if I go back to being numb.
Satan tends to arrive in a pretty package and a satin bow.
“Too bad we’re not measured based on our good times. It’s how we perform in the bad times that makes us who we are.”
“We should leave.” He straightens suddenly, his voice gruff. “Why?” “Because I’m about to do something we’ll both regret.”
“I’m not going to regret it,” I whisper, finally.
“Fuck.” He closes his eyes, tipping his head back. Two things are obvious to me—he is attracted to me, but he doesn’t want to be. “Yes, you are.” “No, I won’t,” I say, louder now. “Trust me.” “Good.”
“Because I never regretted that first kiss. Not for a nano...
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His face disappears between the valley of my breasts through my top. “I’ve wanted to do that since Italy. Since I saw you on that balcony and you looked like a present.”
“Regretting me yet?” He dives down to kiss me hard. I shake my head, not wanting to break the kiss. “Good,” he murmurs into my mouth.
“Well, then. First things first, do unplaster yourself from me, boss.” He complies quickly, rolling onto the passenger seat. “Anything for you, employee of the month.”
My sense of failure as a woman is so immense that I loathe myself in this moment.
