“You did. Until I saw the dork cave.”
“Dork cave… okay…” He chews his cheek, mischievousness in his eyes. “So you’re saying that if, on Halloween, we had come back here instead of Sarah’s guest room, and you’d seen the very few collectibles I own, things may have ended differently?”
“I didn’t say that.” I lean back, confidently crossing my arms.
“So what does that make you? A nerd-chaser?”
“Just horny, I guess.”
He laughs, his throat bobbing. “Well, I’m glad our plan of getting to know each other is already working.”
“I remain a mystery, however.” I wiggle my brows.
“We’ll work on that,” he says, his eyes flicking down to my sweater. “Starting with—did you seriously go to Harvard?”
I thrifted this sweater so long ago I forgot what it even said across the front. “No, heh, not Harvard. I went to Lakehead for Outdoor Recreation, Parks, and Tourism, with a concentration in nature-based therapeutic recreation. I have a bachelor’s degree in how to take people canoeing for their mental health, essentially.”
“Don’t do that,” Bo says sternly.
“What?” I blink at double speed.
“Dismiss yourself like that. That sounds really fucking cool and important to me. Don’t trivialise what you accomplished.”
“Oh, uh, well… thanks.”
“What did you want to do after your degree?”
“The dream was to open a summer camp for kids with disabilities. A place built to show them how to adapt the equipment, give them the time and patience to learn that they hadn’t gotten anywhere else. But obviously, that didn’t happen.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why didn’t that happen? It seems to make so much sense.”
“Oh,” I stutter, reaching for my water to take a sip. “I guess, uh, life just happened instead.”
Bo waits for me to go on, gently holding eye contact. I start to feel a tightness in my chest, spreading up my throat. But this is what we’re here to do, right? Get to know each other? I’ll give him the condensed version. He doesn’t need to know everything.
“There was this guy… Jack.”
“Hate him already,” Bo says, one corner of his mouth raising.
“Yeah, well, good instincts.” I laugh nervously. “We met in my second-year biology course. He was doing an undergrad in kinesiology. We seemed to have a lot in common, shared a lot of the same friend group, the usual stuff. Eventually, after a few too many beers around a campfire one night, we sort of fell into dating. We finished school together, but he decided to go for his master’s degree.”
I shuffle in my seat, looking everywhere except at Bo’s face. “He asked me to move in with him, and I said yes. Our relationship up until then was mostly fine. But there were definitely some red flags I was choosing to ignore. Anyway… he was going to be a student full time again, and someone had to pay the rent. So I got an office job to get us by and sort of wasted those two years after graduation paying his way. Stupidly, I thought we were a team and that it’d be my turn to go after what I wanted next but… well, you know. When things ended, I moved back here, pretty desperate to get away from it all. I had to start fresh and couldn’t really afford to dream bigger than the café and lifeguarding in the summers. Then time sort of moved on… but I didn’t, I guess.”
“He sounds like a jerk, Win. I’m sorry.”
“Long time ago now,” I say, shrugging.
There’s a lingering silence. I resist the urge to look back toward him as much as I can, feeling his eyes burning into me. After what feels like far too long, I decide to give in, mostly to set him at ease with a smile. But when I do eventually turn toward him, I don’t smile. I can’t.
Not when Bo’s looking at me like he heard far more than I was willing to say. Like he’s seeing every invisible scar I’ve tried to cover up.
“He wasn’t nice to you.” He states it like fact. Simple. Sad. True.
I shake my head no. Just subtle enough that a part of me can pretend I didn’t answer him at all.
Bo’s jaw works, his eyes falling briefly before he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”
I inhale a shaky breath, biting the inside of my cheek. “Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
He nods, then scratches the side of his nose with a bent knuckle.
Change the subject, everything inside of me shouts.
“Did, uh, did you go to university?”
Bo licks his lips, nodding, his usual lightness missing. “Yeah, Waterloo for Accounting and Financial Management.”
“Sounds like a party,” I tease. He rolls his eyes playfully, though his smile is still absent. It seems his thoughts are held elsewhere. I wonder… if maybe… they’re held on her. “Did you have a Jack too?” I ask.
Bo breathes into his hand as he wipes his mouth. “How much has Caleb told you?” he asks, eyeing me like he’s got my number.
I tsk, hissing in through my teeth. “Busted,” I say quietly through a nervous, soundless laugh. “Caleb hasn’t said much, though.” Nothing helpful, at least. “I don’t think he and Cora are particularly close.”
“Listen, things were complicated with Cora. I don’t want to imply that—”
“You should probably know that Sarah and I refer to her as the spawn of Satan,” I interrupt. “Frequently and in front of Caleb. She’s been nothing but nasty to Sarah. So if you’re trying to be diplomatic for my sake, don’t bother.”
“You shouldn’t call her that,” Bo says gently, leaning forward in his seat, his hands clasped between his knees, wringing. “I mean… sorry. You can call her whatever you want. I just…” His voice trails off.
I feel a twinge of guilt and unease pull my lips askew. “Sorry,” I offer simply. So he’s not over his ex, then. The sudden pang of sadness thrumming around my chest is unexpected. It’s not jealousy, I don’t think. Or at least, not entirely. It’s more complicated than that. It’s wondering if during one of the more meaningful sexual experiences of my life, certainly the most pleasurable, my partner was thinking of someone else. Wishing for someone else. If I was just… there. Available. Overly willing, throwing myself at him until he gave in. It’s the crushing weight of questioning whether he wishes I was her. Them having a baby. Them sharing a home. It makes me feel like a trespasser. Inferior.
“I shouldn’t have called her that. We shouldn’t call her that. You’re right.”
I can tell Bo’s choosing his words carefully as he sets his emptied mug down on the coffee table. “It shouldn’t upset me. It wasn’t exactly a good relationship. She, uh, Cora… things between us were not great.”
Things are already awkward; I may as well get some answers. “Caleb did mention that you two were engaged.” The moment I say it, Bo’s hands are all over his face—anxiously rubbing at his chin and cheeks and forehead.
“Yeah,” he says, his nose scrunching up. “Technically, yes.”