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“Sure.” She scurries out of there almost faster than I can get the robe closed, and I step outside, arms crossed.
“Fine, okay? Fine. We had dinner.” I give her an overview of what happened, the basic rundown of what we agreed, and how we ended up spending the night together. I don’t tell her the glorious details—though she asks. I don’t tell her just how many times we fucked and how I’m sore enough that I can still feel his hands on my skin. But I fill her in on what happened this morning. How he said it didn’t have anything to do with me and he couldn’t tell me. “I can’t do it, Rose. I’ve lived with that memory for ten years. I can’t just pretend that it didn’t happen. It would eat away at us like acid until we fell apart all over again.”
“But you would do it?” she asks. “You would be with him all over again?”
“Yes.” The word is instantaneous. Of course I would. I never stopped loving Sam. They say you never forget your first love, and with us it’s like it was crystallized. Frozen but not quite broken. I can still hear the pain in his voice this morning, and I know he’s there with me too. He’s said so many times that he wants me. I just wish I could want him without knowing. I wish I were strong enough to move on. But I’m not.
I sit down on the couch beside Rose and put my head in my hands, and she rubs gentle circles on my back. “What do I do?”
“You should talk to him,” she says. “Maybe he’s changed his mind. If he reached out to me, he’s desperate. Sam and I aren’t exactly close.”
“Why would he just change his mind after all this time?”
Rose shrugs. “Maybe after last night he realizes just how badly he wants you back? Maybe he’s decided that you’re worth more than this secret?”
“I don’t know, Rose.”
“When I screwed it up with Thomas, you told me to go get him. You told me that it’s never too late and that’s true. Now if he’s asking to talk to you, and you want to be with him, you need to suck it up and talk to him.”
“Fine,” I say, sighing. “I hate it when you’re right.”
We call the attendant back in, and she helps me into the various dresses that we’ve picked. And we do find one—a lovely silver gown that reminds me a little of what I wore to her engagement party. But in my head I’m somewhere else entirely. I’m with Sam, wondering what he’s thinking and what he wants to say to me after our conversation this morning. I think Rose knows that’s where my head is, because she’s smiling whenever she has to repeat something or get my attention. Finally, after I’ve been pinned within an inch of my life, Rose lets me go. But not before telling me, “Go get him, sister,” with a wink. I’m eating my own words now.
I’m walking to my car when my phone buzzes again. I look at it, and find Sam’s name on the screen. Might as well get this over with now. I pick up, “Sam, I—”
“Fiona,” he says, voice frantic. “Zeus ate half an onion. I’m making chili and he stole it off the counter. He keeps trying to throw it up and he seems like he’s in pain.”
He doesn’t have to say anything more. “I’m on my way.”
11
I stop at the vet’s office as quickly as I can. There’s a medication that makes animals vomit. It’s gross, but it’s the fastest way to get bad things out of their stomach. Onions are really bad for dogs, and while eating them doesn’t usually produce immediate results, some dogs can have a bad allergic reaction, which is what I think Zeus is having.
There’s a chance I might get pulled over on the way because I’m definitely speeding. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be coming back to this house again, let alone coming back today. It’s all so raw and familiar like a big bruise. Is there any chance that we can ever really set it straight? Ten years of heartache and accusations eating away at us is a lot to overcome.
I blink those thoughts away. Right now I can only think about Zeus. He needs my help, and even though I’m not certified, this is what I want to do. I can’t ignore this request. I would never want to.
The house looms, and I’ve barely turned off my car before I’m out of it and running for the house. I pound on the door and it takes only seconds for Sam to open it. I push past him, “Where is he?”
“Backyard. He wanted to go out.”
