Hope fluttered in my chest, but immediately fizzled. “Sometimes she goes to other bars.”
“We texted, but she said she was taking a night off.”
That was definitely not like Pen, so I forced myself to ask, “She didn’t invite you over?”
“No. Said she was turning in early. On a Wednesday. Alone.”
Now I really was worried. Worried and so relieved I could’ve jumped out of my chair and danced around the office. I didn’t want Pen to be hurt or sick, but it was nice to know she wasn’t working out her confusion about us with someone else. She hadn’t slept with Ashley and she hadn’t slept with some random hookup. I dared to let myself hope that meant something. I kept all that relief in the background, however, because I had to acknowledge that Pen might actually be in bad shape. At the very least we needed to know.
“Did you ask her outright if she was okay?”
“You know she hates that,” Ashley said. “But yeah, I did.”
“And she gave you an earful about it.”
I could tell by Ashley’s exasperated, bitter look that I was right. She confirmed it with a nod and a raised eyebrow. With each passing moment I was liking Ashley more and more. As much as I wanted to hate her, it was obvious she truly cared about Pen.
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll look into it,” I said, wondering how I’d go about that.
Her relief was palpable and it somehow made her even more beautiful. I was pretty sure I could manage to hate her and like her at the same time. That was definitely the direction I was headed.
“That’s great.” She swallowed and looked away, clearly steeling herself for something unpleasant. “I’ll stop by her place.”
“No.”
I barked out the word before I could stop myself. Fortunately, Ashley misinterpreted my vehemence.
“I know she hates that and I normally would never do it, but this is serious. She probably won’t answer the door anyway.”
“I…uh…think she’s out of town. She’s been showing houses out in Culpeper. She’s probably there today.”
“She goes all the way down there?”
“Not on purpose.” Hmm. Pen hadn’t told her about that client. She didn’t share everything with Ashley then. “I tell you what. I’ll call Pen’s dad. He’s her emergency contact and her doctor would let him know if there’s anything serious Pen’s not telling us.”
“That sounds great!” Ashley hopped out of her chair, looking relieved. “I’ll stop by her place on the way home. How about we both do our thing and reconnect later?”
“Great.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. I’d just dropped another woman into Pen’s lap. Not just any woman, but one Pen was certain to screw when they met up. And she was going to Pen’s house. Where her bed was. It was the worst option of a thousand terrible options.
When she got to the door, Ashley hesitated. She turned back to me and I could swear she was almost blushing. “This probably sounds strange to you, but Penelope is part of our family. We’re worried about her.”
She didn’t wait for a response but gave me a sad smile and left. Maybe she had picked up on my reluctance to send her to Pen’s house and assumed it was because I didn’t like the nature of their relationship. It did seem strange that a married couple cared so much about the woman they invited into their bed, but maybe I was being unfair. Maybe, given time, I could understand that dynamic. Right now, there was too much jumbled in my brain to think about that.
I had Mr. Chase’s number saved in my cell phone, but I called him from my office phone. He was a chatty guy and I had been stuck with a dying cell phone when I called him before. He picked up on the second ring and sounded genuinely happy to hear from me.
“If it isn’t the lovely Ms. Hall.” His baritone filled the line, echoes of Pen’s higher but equally rich tones evident. “How’ve you been? Penelope says you’re dating. I understand you’ve had a rough time of it.”
My heart slammed against my ribcage. Had he meant the disasters before Pen or the disaster with Pen? Surely she hadn’t told her father about our night together, but my romantic misfortunes were adding up.
“Some of the boys around here use online dating, too,” he continued, referring to his retirement community. “Don’t give up hope. The right one’s out there for you.”
I swallowed hard, willing myself not to tell him that the one for me was his daughter. “I’m sure they are.”
Mr. Chase was an outgoing guy, and I could hear the ghost of Pen’s laughter in his weathered voice. I’d met him only once and been shocked by how little he resembled my best friend. Where she was tall and round-cheeked, he was hunched and gaunt. His features were sharp and angular, like an old bird, but there was a warmth to him that was undeniable. And he looked at Pen like she was everything he could have ever wanted in a child and more.
When I asked him if he’d heard from Pen a weariness crept into his words. “I’m afraid not. We don’t talk much these days. She’s so busy with work and I have a very competitive bridge table.”
I explained that she’d been avoiding her friends and the office for over a week, but I cut the explanation short when I heard him clucking in the background. I’d allowed Ashley’s concern to bleed over into me so I was frustrated by his indifference.
“I haven’t heard from any hospitals, so I’m sure she’s fine.” There was a muffled sound as he spoke to someone else on his end, the rustle of his hand covering the phone loud in my ear. “Look, I appreciate your concern, Kieran. It’s wonderful that Penelope has such devoted friends, but I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. She’s been…known to do this.”
“She’s never done it while I’ve been…”
“Penelope likes to keep people at a distance, especially if they’re trying to force their way in closer. She’s had to put distance between herself and more than a few of her lady friends.”
There was a knowing hint to his voice and it sounded an awful lot like he was accusing me of being a disgruntled former lover. Was I a disgruntled former lover? Was that all I’d ever get out of that fevered night in the alley? Of course it was, I thought as I said my goodbyes and hung up, but how could he know that?
Before I could analyze it too much, I sent a text to Ashley. She answered immediately, happy that Pen wasn’t seriously ill. Unfortunately, Pen also wasn’t home. Ashley had waited but there’d been no answer at the door and her car hadn’t been in the driveway. She had to get home to her wife, but she promised to try again the next day. It wasn’t the best news, but at least she wasn’t in Pen’s bed and Pen wasn’t in the hospital.
By the time our conversation ended, it was five o’clock and my coworkers were trickling out of the building. I closed down my office, appreciating at the very least that I had one day this week where I’d accomplished a little work. When and if Pen ever showed her face again, she would see that her title search was completed and she was one step closer to that big commission.
I was reaching to flip off my desk lamp when Arthur appeared in the doorway. The hall behind him was dark, but not as dark as his expression. His tie was loosened and his coat was ruffled, but he looked like he was ready for a fight.
“She finally did it, didn’t she?”
“Who did what?”
“Penelope finally broke your heart.”
I’m pretty sure my jaw hit the desk. I hadn’t said a word to anyone in the office for obvious reasons and Arthur had never struck me as particularly intuitive. Had my distress been that obvious?
Dropping into the chair so recently vacated by Ashley, he sighed, clenched fists perched on his knees. “I guess I should congratulate her on her restraint. I thought she’d hurt you years ago.”
“Pen hasn’t…”
“Stop,” Arthur barked. The good natured, mildly inappropriate coworker was gone. This man looked like the angry father of a jilted girl. “When are you going to see Penelope for the selfish person she is? She’s always t
aking and walking away.”
“But she doesn’t,” I replied, my own fists balled and ready for a fight. “You don’t know her. She’s not like that.”
Pen hadn’t been the one to take this time. I had. She’d wanted to walk away but I hadn’t let her. I’d been the one to push. I’d seen what I wanted and I went after it, even while Pen tried to protect me. That didn’t make her wrong, it made me selfish.
Lost in my thoughts, I’d missed Arthur’s next evisceration of Pen’s character. I didn’t need to hear it to defend her. Even while my stomach soured with guilt, my voice was calm as I said, “You’re wrong.”
“Am I?” He still sounded like a father, only this time one who was trying to comfort rather than scold. “Are you happy?”
“I’m…” Okay, I wasn’t happy exactly, but I wasn’t interested in explaining the situation to Art. He wouldn’t understand.
He took my lack of explanation as confirmation. “Exactly.”
“This isn’t her fault,” I said.
“Then whose is it?”
I stared at my clenched fists on the desktop. “Mine.”
I don’t think Art expected that, but he probably did expect the tears. I hated that he didn’t understand why I was crying. He probably still blamed Pen, but I saw the truth all too clearly.
“You’re not like her, Kieran.” He patted my hand and I missed my dad for the first time in a very long time. “You don’t have to be. Don’t let her make you into someone you’re not.”
“That’s just it,” I choked through my tears. “She didn’t. I did.”
There was nothing Art hated more than a crying woman, so I was shocked that he didn’t run away. Instead he sat there, awkwardly patting my hands while I pulled myself together. It wasn’t easy. I’m an ugly crier. Like splotchy skin, snot-for-days-ugly crier. He stuck it out though, bless him.
When I finally cleaned my face up enough to be presentable, he asked, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Of course I didn’t want to. I did anyway. I told him all about the hug after my non-date with Skye and how she kissed my forehead. Then about how she asked me to find another date so we could hang out and about what Charlie said. Arthur was on his best behavior and didn’t ask for details when I alluded to the alley.
He didn’t look too judgmental when he asked, “So she didn’t admit that she loves you?”
All I could do was shake my head. I couldn’t even meet his eye. It was high time for me to lean into my self-disgust. It felt good to beat myself up a little bit. I had plenty of reasons.
“She will,” he murmured.
That came out of the blue. Pen cared about me, I was sure of that. She loved me. What I hadn’t allowed her was the right to love me in a different way than I loved her. She’d told me who she was and I didn’t listen. Now I’d lost my best friend.
“I don’t think you understand,” I started, but I didn’t know how to explain.
“Sure I do. Pen’s been in love with you for years, you’ve been too dense to see it.”
“Hey!”
“You’re pretty oblivious if you haven’t noticed how she treats you.”
“We’re friends,” I argued. “She’s good to her friends.”
“Maybe so, but not like she is with you.” He threw one leg over the other knee and leaned back. He obviously had some mansplaining to do. “Haven’t you ever wondered why I hate Penelope so much?”
“Because she’s popular, hates country music, and embarrassed you playing horseshoes at the company picnic three years ago.”
“Other than that,” he growled through clenched teeth. The horseshoe game was a particularly sore subject.
“Why?”
“Because she ruins all your relationships.”
“She does not!”
Sure, my voice was a little shrill, but he deserved it.
“Nick thought you were cheating on him with her.”
“Nick was the cheater. I never did anything with Pen while we were married.”
“But when you were having problems, you called her.”
“Of course I did. She was my best friend and he bailed.” I hadn’t told Art where Nick had gone that night and I wasn’t going to now.
“What about Alex?”
“What about them?”
Art ran a hand through his hair and I swear he rolled his eyes. How his wife hadn’t murdered him before now, I’d never know. “You never let Alex in like you let Penelope in. They always felt like they were competing with her for you.”
“I’m so glad my ex talked to you about our problems.” I was so pissed I was half out of my chair as I shouted at him, “Maybe if they’d talked to me, we’d still be together.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” he said, refusing to rise to my level of anger. It was so infuriating. “Because you never loved them as much as you love Penelope.”
Now I was standing up. I was half a heartbeat away from crawling over my desk to throttle him.
“It’s not your fault.” He raised his hands, but his attitude was anything but submissive. “You can’t help that you love her any more than she can help that she loves you. And she clearly doesn’t want to admit she loves you.”
That took the wind out of my sails. I slumped back into my chair, my elbows slipping off the armrests. I was just so tired. Why was it so hard?
“She doesn’t.” I wasn’t sure if I meant she didn’t want to admit it or that she didn’t love me.
“What are you gonna do about it?”
I lifted my head enough to look at his smug smile. “What can I do about it?”
“You might try fighting for her.”
“I tried that. It…” Well, it had ended in hot sex in an alley, but it had also ended with her ghosting me. “Didn’t work out.”
Art shook his head, a sweet smile carving lines into his cheeks. I was suddenly very happy he had daughters. I bet he was a great dad to them.
“You tried pushing her to admit her feelings. That would never work with Penelope. You might try letting her know you don’t have any expectations. That you’ll be there whenever she’s ready.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve done? I haven’t texted her since last Thursday.” I’d felt every minute without contact, too.
“Did you tell her why, or did you just shut up?” He correctly interpreted my silence and continued, “Tell her why you’ve been quiet. Tell her you’re giving her time and space.”
“I don’t think that’ll do any good.”
He shrugged and stood, straightening his tie. “It would work for me.”
He was at the door when I asked, “You think you and Pen are that much alike?”
“Of course. That’s why we hate each other so much.” He shot me a quick wink and finished, “It’s also why you like us both so much. Goodnight, Kieran.”
I waited until I parked in my driveway an hour later to pull out my phone.
“What the hell,” I said to the empty car. “Maybe he’s right.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hey Pen
I’m sorry about last week
Not that it happened
But I am sorry that I pushed
Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here
I miss you
Chapter Thirty-Four
Friday went by in a haze. I fell into bed immediately after work and woke up late on Saturday. I hadn’t dreamed of Pen, which was fine by me. The longer I went without seeing her, the less her dream face resembled the one I knew so well, and the difference left me panicking. Waking up calm was a treat, though as soon as my eyes opened, I still reached for Pen’s pen from its new perch on my bedside table. I clutched it to my chest while mentally preparing for the day to come. My plans consisted of a trip to the grocery store followed by an evening of home-spa self-care. It wasn’t exactly a thrilling prospect, but I had to get myself used to my new life. Boring and lonely. I’d never ever felt so single.
I
stumbled across a farmer’s market I didn’t know existed and decided to be bold by altering my plans. After all, a single, friendless lady needed someone to talk to. That someone was a stranger today. A massive crown of broccoli the same vivid green of Pen’s eyes caught my attention as did a precarious-looking mound of potatoes. They joined a bunch of spring onions and a pint of strawberries in my bag and I headed back home without stepping foot into the harsh florescent light of the grocery store.
The rest of the afternoon was devoted to making me feel pretty. Nothing lifted my mood like a charcoal mask. I took a long, luxurious bath, shaving my neglected legs and scouring my body with my favorite Himalayan sea salt scrub. It smelled like a pine forest and left my skin feeling raw and fresh. I lotioned and pulled on a loose sun dress that wouldn’t irritate my tender skin. After tossing the potato in the oven, I searched for something to watch. The movie I picked was a little outside my usual time period, but there was nothing like Titanic. Leo had a face forgettable enough that I could focus all my attention on Kate as the oven hummed and the water that would steam my broccoli bubbled on the stove.
Today the love story barely held my attention. I absentmindedly stroked the soft skin of my arm and let my mind wander. It bounced from subject to subject but always came back to the same thought. I needed to go back to Swingle. There wasn’t any hope to this thing with Pen and maybe there never should have been. I’d been lonely for so long, maybe I’d wanted Pen because she was the closest to me in my loneliness. Maybe it hadn’t been love, but desperation that drove me into her arms. She’d tried to warn me off, but, in the end, she was the person she would always be. She would always sleep with the woman who wanted her. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but it wasn’t the foundation for a relationship.
I picked at my potato and threw half of it away before dropping back onto the couch and returning to my thoughts. Kate and Leo kissed and I realized I’d been trailing my fingertips along my belly. I snatched my phone off the coffee table, intending to pull up the Swingle app, but I selected my photos instead. After a little scrolling, I found the picture I’d taken of Pen when we went for lunch at an outdoor café. The sun illuminated the side of her face, making it glow like pale gold. She was laughing, the skin around her eyes, usually so taut and pristine, was pulled into a bundle of deep lines. Her chin rested on the heel of her hands and I could feel the burn of her eyes through the screen. No one ever looked at me the way Pen looked at me.
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