He realized she didn’t mean it as a compliment. You’re too handsome to be worth anything was the implication. But no one had ever called him beautiful before. “So, what do you want now?” he asked, to keep her talking. He liked not being able to predict what she’d say next. The conversation was flowing like a simple painting that went sideways into something beautifully twisted while dragging his brush along for the ride.
“I don’t know.” Her voice was smaller, as if the question had drained her energy. “I haven’t thought about it in a while.”
Nathan forced a smile and pointed to the movie screen. “Well… I’d like movie options that were made in the last decade. This one’s cool and all, but—”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, in a gentle tone still sharp enough to cut him off. “You don’t have to pretend it’s okay that I can’t answer such a simple question.”
Nathan nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She was chipping at a crack in a dam. He wasn’t sure what he wanted out of life either, which used to feel like freedom, but lately felt more like an excuse for being alone.
Rachel’s stomach growled loudly. She shot up with an embarrassed grimace. “Sorry.”
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m always hungry.” She frowned at her own words. “God, that sounds terrible. I do eat, but it’s all vegetables and protein. Fish. Chicken.” She groaned. “I haven’t had a burger in years.”
“Please tell me you’re lying.”
“I am not.” She said each word slowly, with overlong vowels. The drink was kicking in. Her face was softer, and the sweatshirt had fallen off one shoulder. It drew his gaze to a small freckle on her collarbone. He slid the sleeve back up into place, careful not to touch her skin.
“I miss sugar,” she said. “And bread.”
“There’s a gas station down the street. I could grab a Tastykake.”
“You don’t have a car.”
“It’s not that far. I can walk.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
He didn’t know how to answer. Because she looked as lonely as he felt? He also wanted to impress her. She’d put him in some exceptional category of “beautiful men” who were worth her time, and he felt a sudden need to live up to the designation. “You seem like you’re having a rough night.”
She looked away and started chugging her drink. “Have you ever been in love?”
The question surprised him, and he answered “No” too quickly, before he could think. “I mean, I don’t think so.”
“Do you want to fall in love?” Rachel asked.
“Maybe,” he said cautiously, because a simple yes felt too small for the conversation. She was so intense and focused on his answer that it was stifling. “Eventually. When it feels right.”
“It always feels right,” Rachel said. Her dreamy smile burrowed into his chest and slid inside a dozen places it probably shouldn’t. “It feels perfect. And you can’t imagine loving anyone else. Or even arguing. Or being cruel.”
“But there’s no such thing as perfect.”
“Yes, there is. There are some truly perfect things in this world.” She tried to prop her elbow on her knee, and nearly toppled over. He moved to steady her, but she righted herself like nothing happened. “A martini at the Savoy. The Velvet Rope album. That fraction of a second before a first kiss, when you realize it’s finally going to happen.” She tugged his sweatshirt over her knees. “Those things are perfect. It’s people who are flawed.”
It made him think about Inez. It was scary to think he could have lost the love of his life already because he wasn’t paying attention. “Was it perfect for you? With your husband?”
She ducked her head and started maneuvering the sweatshirt until her hands disappeared inside the sleeves. “At first. Then it became unpaid labor.”
He thought about that pre-K press conference he’d watched. How her expression never changed, even when her own husband referred to her as an example of the “traumatic toll of marginalization in America.” It must have taken a lot of willpower to remain stoic while being used as institutional racism exhibit A.
“People say marriage is hard.”
She smirked, like he’d told a joke. “But they never tell you how it’s hard. It’s always a rug being pulled from under you.” They locked eyes briefly before hers slid away. That’s when it clicked. This wasn’t just marriage problems. Matt Abbott had done something bad enough to have her crying her eyes out and drinking herself numb.