“Jesus, this is so toxic,” Maddie mutters, pushing the bread basket toward Ari.
Ari’s slightly inebriated affect really helps to sell the idea that she’d downed three glasses of pinot noir back in “their” apartment before marching over to Sixty-third and Broadway to confront her lying husband.
“When we met,” Ari says, grabbing two slices of focaccia, “it was like he couldn’t get enough of me. He gave me a drawer after our second night together.”
“Such a red flag.” Maddie nods, making absolutely no move to leave. “But also romantic?”
Ari faces him. “You told me you loved me and you didn’t care that it was too soon. And it scared me because I never said that to anyone before.” She places her palm against his cheek and he’s certain she can feel his racing pulse through his skin. “But I did. I said it because I felt…” There’s a tiny wobble in her voice. “I thought we belonged to each other. I let you in. I let my guard down. I used the drawer and you just got…tired of me.”
Josh swallows. If this monologue is pure invention, she really does have great improv skills.
“What a fucking asshole,” Maddie says, heartbroken by proxy. “I’m so sorry.”
The two women stare accusingly at Josh and he feels momentarily guilty for fake-perpetuating an entirely fictional crime of the heart.
Ari slides her right hand in front of him and reaches for his plate, quietly slicing into his steak. After she ingests half his meal, finishes his wine, and signals the server for another, Ari turns to the bewildered woman across the table. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“It’s Maddie,” she says, apparently surprised to become a direct participant in the drama. “Hi. But I’m not—” She pauses. “This was our first date.”
Ari whips her head back to him. “How many women did you neglect to tell me about, Joshua?”
“Aren’t you even going to say you’re sorry?” Maddie asks him, shaking her head in disbelief.
Great. So, he’s capable of disappointing people in made-up scenarios in addition to the real world.
Ari slices off one more bite of his steak. “This is really good,” she mumbles, somehow acting convincingly distraught while thoroughly enjoying his food.
Josh and Ari stare at each other for a beat. The blaring noise of the restaurant—the laughter at the bar, the clinking of silverware, Le Tigre pumping through the speakers—recedes into the background.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a sober tone. He doesn’t issue apologies often; even this fake one feels oddly potent. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He takes a breath. “Because I don’t think you want to hear the truth.” She stops chewing. Her eyebrow does the slightest little quirk. “And it would force a conversation that could blow up our…marriage.” When she looks at him, it’s like she’s eighty percent certain of something. That extra twenty percent will keep him up at night. “So I’ve been keeping things from you”—he glances at Maddie and back to Ari—“my wife.”
Maybe the little moment could’ve lasted longer if not for the server manifesting table-side to cheerfully inquire if Ari is “still working on that steak.”
She is, obviously. But he doesn’t miss the hint of a smile on her face before she grabs his napkin off his lap and pretend-dabs at her eyes.
“God.” Maddie looks down at her highly customized salad like she’s reading tea leaves. “Now I’m rethinking my breakup with Kevin. We were together since college and I thought I was missing out on all these wild sexual adventures in my twenties, but—”
“Oh?” Ari perks up, dropping the napkin.
“—being single is just so bleak,” Maddie says, taking a gulp of her chardonnay. “I mean, no offense, but like, looking at you two, I’m not sure if it’s worse to be out here dating or to end up in a nightmare relationship like yours.”
Josh wrinkles his nose at the criticism.
Ari reaches for another piece of focaccia.
“So…tell me about these wild sexual adventures,” his “wife” says to Maddie, not quite innocently enough, sliding the bread through the bowl of olive oil without breaking eye contact.
13
“REMIND ME WHY WE DECIDED to schlep to the Strand on the coldest day of the year so far?” Ari whines as she steps off the elevator, hunched over with the weight of a backpack sagging on her shoulders.