Page 22 of I Will Always Love You (Maybe)

Kona hobbles over to us from where she was resting and nestles at my feet. I rub the top of her fur and think back to when I was in my late teens, and early twenties. “Oh gosh. I don’t know. Fifteen years ago, at least. Before I met Amelia,” I say. “I’ve only had casual sex with maybe two or three women at most.”

Rose tattoos peek out when Josie tugs up the sleeve of the sweatshirt. “That’s what I thought—that you haven’t been with anyone since your wife. Last night when we were talking, and you told me everything about what happened with your wife… you were so emotionally vulnerable, and open, and trusting and ugh… Fuck, Colby, this is what I do.”

Huh? I feel my brows crease. Sure, I was in an emotionally vulnerable spot last night. I haven’t talked about Amelia to anyone in years. I was raw, and exhausted, and needed to forget, but I absolutely knew what I was doing. “We didn’t do anything that I didn’t want to do.”

Josie reaches into the cereal and palms a handful of Cheerios. She stares at her hands, then takes a breath. “You’re not looking for a relationship. And honestly, neither am I. In fact, a few months ago I enforced a relationship hard stop for myself. But… this is my pattern, and I’m so angry at myself for doing this to you.”

I still don’t grasp what she’s saying. But when I open my mouth to protest, she puts her hands up.

“One sec. Let me finish.” She crunches through a few bites of the dry cereal and washes it back with coffee. “So, you haven’t had casual sex in all those years. And you know exactly what you want, which is to stay single. But me… Ever since Zoey and I broke up, I fall headfirst, hard, madly in love, in a snap. I’m Queen Insta-love, and I know it and I hate it. It’s like this twisted, sick, never-ending cycle and I’ve been trying to get out of it.”

As Josie talks, my heart breaks a little bit for her. She tells me that she’s been searching for something, something that’s unnamed and out of reach, and she keeps thinking every woman she is with is “the one.” She talks about looking for distractions, everywhere. Working extra hours, joining clubs, trying new activities, and when she sleeps with someone, she just knows that this is it!

“And then I told myself no more, that this pattern is completely unhealthy, and I need to stop,” she says, running a hand through her pink hair. “And then the moment I’m alone with you…” She trails off.

This isn’t her fault. As we sit here and talk, I realize that none of this is either one of our faults. We were both looking for something last night, some momentary reprieve in our lives to break the monotonous course of action, and we used sex to fulfill that need. “First, can I just say I really appreciate you sharing all of that with me?” I say, giving her a soft smile. “How about we both just agree that it was a mistake, and it will never happen again. Take a solid do-over?”

“A do-over. I like that,” Josie says. “Like, let’s rewind it, play back, and write an alternative ending. Matrix-style.”

I chuckle. “Not sure that The Matrix is the best movie for this analogy, but it sounds good either way.”

Josie leans in and gives me a hug. A warm, full, generous hug, and I melt into the touch. I rest my chin on her soft rounded shoulders, feel her body pressed against me, and release this guilt choke hold that’s been with me since last night. “I’m going to take Kona out to go to the bathroom,” I say, grabbing a scarf to wear over my coat. “Do you need to call your work or anything?”

“Today’s my normal day off, but that’s a good idea, anyway. I should probably check in and see how people are doing with the storm. I don’t even know if they’ve managed to open.”

Outside, the visibility is next to zero, and Josie’s car rests at the edge of the turn that is buried under mounds of snow. The wind whips against my face, covering me with a blanket of snow, and I shake everything off, but it’s useless. Kona is taking longer than normal, probably too freaked out to go to the bathroom with how loud the howl is in the wind, and a good twenty minutes must’ve passed before I step back into the house.

And when I do, a few things happen. I don’t see Josie right away, which is a little odd since I have a completely open-plan home besides the bedroom, bathroom, and small hall. But then I hear her, on the phone with someone. There’s a whisper, then a giggle, and then another whisper.

And something very unexpected happens. A touch of surprising jealousy flickers through me, a deep curiosity in who she is talking to, and—even as relieved as I am that we’ve laid out that last night was a one-time thing—a trickle of disappointment.

THIRTEEN

JOSIE

I’m sitting on the edge of the tub in Colby’s guest bathroom, whispering into the phone with Leo. I don’t even know why I’m whispering. It’s not like I have anything to hide. But it’s a little unnerving being in this quiet home that’s so open that my naturally loud voice echoes against the walls. Colby is already putting me up during this storm. The best thing I can do is make myself as small as possible to not interrupt her routine.

“You’re telling me that the woman who lingered around reception like the ghost of our great-grandma, the one who yelled at you… You’re at her house. Stuck.” Leo says all of this with the type of chuckle that makes me want to smash his face into a snowbank. “Like, how does this even happen?”

I’m bristling more than I should at this, because Leo, much like me, had no idea what Colby was going through when she was a borderline lunatic at the vet clinic. And it’s not my place to tell him about the level of trauma and PTSD Colby was experiencing with bringing in Kona and relating it to when her wife died. “Your level of dickheadedness is at an all-time high,” I hush under my breath. “But the dog got a post-op infection, she needed antibiotics⁠—”

“Yeah, but you could’ve just dropped those off.”

I could’ve. But I didn’t. “Yeah, I know.”

It takes a moment for the chuckling to stop. And when it does, Leo releases a heavy sigh. “You banged her, didn’t you?”

Now I’m really bristling. And I refuse to answer. God, I hate that Leo knows me. I’m sure he can sense my blushed cheeks through the phone. My silence must give him everything I’m not saying, ’cause I hear another heavy sigh.

“As much as you think I’m judging you, I swear I’m not,” he says with his voice much softer than before. “I worry about you, okay? A lot. More than I probably let on. I just don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

Damn him. I hate him right now as much as I love him. I appreciate that he doesn’t want me to get hurt, but I don’t want to get hurt. Nor do I want to hurt anyone else, and I absolutely know that one of these two outcomes is likely if I pursue what I did last night with Colby again. She is clearly not in the space for anything, and neither am I.

“Thanks,” I say. “Really, everything was all good this morning. We’re adults, we made an adult decision, and mutually decided to pause on anything more.” Yes, of course, I know I’m not being completely truthful, but it’s mortifying telling Leo what happened this morning with my failed great escape plan, and that I literally got my car stuck in a snowbank while trying to run from my sexcapade.

After I chat with Leo a bit longer, I hang up, plant my hands on the countertop in the bathroom and stare at my reflection. The cabin is so spacious, the land massive, and yet the overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia weaves its way through my body like a toxic smoke. A shaky, labored breath leaves my mouth. I splash some cool water on my face, drag a towel across my cheeks, and stretch. I’ve got to let this all go and deal with the fact that I’m stuck here with an amazing, beautiful woman, who is welcoming and accommodating. Really, with all the problems in the world, I’d rate this seriously low.

When I step out of the bathroom and meander down the hall, everything in me feels so uneasy. Where should I go? Just hang out with Colby in her space? Ask if she has a guest bedroom? Hide in the pantry? Colby is sitting on the rocking chair crocheting a blanket, and I decide to take a seat next to her on the couch.