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December

I hated the end of the first semester more than anything else. Not only did exams loom in the not so distant future, but there was all that Christmas shopping and people were just… perpetually pissed off. Not being the richest girl in the world, I was paying my own way through school, and that meant a job. And like any other semi-intelligent college student, I did the math, and realized being a waitress was the fastest way to the most amount of money. I wished I could have worked in the mall, retail, something easy, or even at Starbucks, and gotten all the free caffeine in the world. But no.

No, I worked as a waitress at some crap corporate chain, I wore my nametag and my polo shirt, and I hated every minute of it. Alright, not every minute of it, but as the weeks wore on, and my finals came on faster and faster, my stress levels jumped to an all-time high. I was turning into a royal bitch, and I knew it. But I had my friends I worked with, and they ignored me for the most part, knowing exactly what was going on.

So it was, another Saturday afternoon, another twelve-hour shift only half finished, and no sign of my break in sight. I loved New York and I hated New York at times, but on that particular afternoon, I really hated New York. I hated the people with too much money and their attitudes; I hated the people with no money and their insistence I pity them and treat them like gold even more.

I guess maybe I just hated the world.

New York City was beautiful in certain areas come the holidays. Rockefeller Center, that area, yeah, gorgeous, but that wasn’t where I was. I was an NYU student that couldn’t afford to live on campus, so I found myself often taking the train in and out of downtown, switching apartments more than boyfriends. I had somehow ended up in the SoHo area, some apartment of a friend of a friend that I could lease really cheap. That was good for me, as this put me closer to my job, and closer to school than I had been. But it wasn’t like the holiday cheer was spreading in vast amounts, as irritated shoppers, sick of long days, showed up looking for speed and got only an incompetent grill staff that were too busy on their cell phones to cook burgers and chicken.

But the thing I never failed to love about the place was its regulars. I didn’t know most of their names, but I knew who they were and what they ordered. I worked so much that I just got used to it, and some of them were such sweet people I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t really like kids that much, I’m a terrible person, I know, but some of these customers had the cutest little boys and girls I couldn’t help myself. I had always told myself I wouldn’t have children, that I would be a terrible mother, but taking these kids in my arms, seeing the way their smiles lit up, it made me wonder if one day I would want to be a mother.

The problem would be finding a man to be a father.

So on that particular December day, I was wandering around the store, trying to look busy. My boss was in one of his moods, threatening to fire anyone who didn’t do things exactly by the book. This meant if you made a milkshake in the wrong glass, or put the candy for your sundae under the whip cream, not on the whip cream, you could considered yourself unemployed. I figured it would be in my best interest to make a circle of the floor, checking for papers or straw wrappers or something else, making sure it wasn’t one of my tables that complained.

Then it happened. He appeared at the door with his wife and kid, the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. They came in once a week or so, the three of them, and the little boy was one of those kids I adored. But I always got the impression that even though his father thought it was cute, his mother didn’t appreciate some waitress picking up her son and bringing him around the store. But I never cared. I knew the little boy’s name was Ezra, and he was always happy to get gummy bears or M&M’s from the ice cream area.

But today something wasn’t normal. Ezra was in his father’s arms, burying his face in his shoulder, and husband and wife stood somewhat apart. They didn’t look happy.

The host put them in my section and I wandered over, grabbing silverware and starting my little spiel, “Hi, my name’s Haley and I’ll be your server today. We have chicken noodle and clam chowder for soups and…”

“Can we just have our usual, Haley?” the wife asked tersely, cutting me off with an enormously fake smile. Ezra was still in his father’s arms, hiding his face. Trying not to show how offended I was at her rudeness, I put my best the-customer-is-always-right smile on my face and took their menus before going back to punch in their order and get their drinks. A cobb salad for her, a bacon cheeseburger for him, and macaroni and cheese with French-fries for Ezra.

When I went back out with their drinks, Ezra took his face out of his fathers shoulder and stared at me as I set down the beverages, holding his hands out. He looked like he wanted me to take him with me, but with the wife’s already rude behavior to me that day, I was thinking it would be better to leave him with his father. Determined to not piss this woman off, I only smiled at the little boy and started to turn away, but he protested this loudly. His father laughed, the wife scowled, and so it was that Ezra spent the next five minutes on my hip as I prepared other customers dinners and drinks.

I went back to their table to return their son, and really wished I hadn’t. Both of them had bright red faces and were talking in low, hushed tone that bordered on shouting. It was the way my mother used to talk to me when we were in public and she didn’t want to make a scene, but it had always terrified me when I was little. They looked up as soon as I appeared, her eyes remaining stormy while his face immediately brightened. “Thanks Haley,” he said softly, taking his now-content son back and offering me a smile, the beautiful blue eyes softening. I only returned the smile and walked away, knowing there was plenty I had to do.

I am going to hell, I thought to myself with a sigh as I lifted another tray loaded with drinks, I am lusting over a married father. Though, I thought to myself, sneaking a peek at him and his wife, it would so be worth the burn to get just one night close to that fire. But be honest here, you wouldn’t want to be with him. He has a kid. And even though Ezra is a cutie, you want to come first. And any good father is always going to put his kid first, and I would never want to change that.

Not to mention, I’d have to go and be a home-wrecker if I were going to get my hands on him in the first place.

I always did my best to not stare at him when they came in, but my curiosity was peaked tonight. Now that I glanced back at them, they were right back to bright red faces and hushed tones; poor Ezra was burying his face in his father’s chest again. I wondered what they were arguing about, and felt guilty that I was secretly a little happy to see them fighting. They had seemed perfectly fine up until tonight, and all couples argue. I had to accept I was never getting my hands on him.

But it was nice to dream.

“Staring at Mr. Gorgeous again?” Shelly teased as I walked into the back, depositing the tray I had been using to carry out my drinkers. I gave her the finger and started to type in the table’s order, my acrylic nails tapping loudly against the screen. “Oh, c’mon,” she continued, coming to stand next to me, “He’s hot. You know he’s hot. He’s the totally fuck-able father.”

I turned bright red as she continued; Shelly was one of my best friends. We worked together and went to school together and all that togetherness… she knew how to push my buttons. And Mr. Gorgeous was a good subject to tease me about.

She licked her lips as I looked up from the screen, waiting for the check to print. “Mmm, I bet you he’s good too. He doesn’t look that old, but he’s got a kid. She must have let him in a lot.”

“Shelly!” I chided, putting the check into my book and shoving it back in the pocket of my apron. “C’mon, let’s not talk shit about the regulars. We’ll just… go drool over them some more.” We shared a giggle and I hurried back to get their food. The grill guys were in a foul mood, thanks to our lovely boss, and it was best to come when they called, lest they get angry and stop making your orders.

Now I really felt like shit. The wife was crying when I returned, trying desperately to hide it. She excused herself the minute she saw me walking over, nearly toppling the food I was carrying. The husband apologized as I set down their meals, “Hey, I’m sorry, Natalie’s… she’s just… having a bad day.” He offered a very fake smile, settling Ezra into the booth next to him.

“Hey, no problem,” I returned, holding up my hands and smiling. I couldn’t help myself; without the glaring wife, I felt like I could be a little more friendly. I knelt down next to Ezra and tickled his feet lightly, sending him into a fit of giggles. He was a cute toddler. “Are you excited for Santa, Ezra?” He grinned and nodded, then buried his face in his father’s side.

“He’s still so shy,” the father remarked, wrapping his arm protectively around his son, “You’d think at three he’d be opening up more.”

I shrugged. “I was a shy kid. I still am.”

“You talk to us all the time.”

“Yeah, well. It’s the job. You get used to talking to complete strangers all day.” I looked down at Ezra, who had returned to staring at me silently, completely ignoring his macaroni. He had a huge grin on his face, but as soon as I looked at him, he hid against his father. “Besides, you have an adorable son.”

“Thanks,” he replied, chuckling quietly to himself. “You should see him at home. You wouldn’t think he was that cute.”

I’m sure I wouldn’t. if I got into your house, the last thing I would want was to be playing with your son, I don’t care how cute he is, I thought to myself. I could feel the color rising in my cheeks as I looked at him, thinking these thoughts. I spotted his wife coming back from the bathroom and made it my business to haul ass out of there.

I saw Shelley shaking her head at me from the service aisle and sighed. It wasn’t like we didn’t do this over every attractive guy that came through the door. Trust me, New York City, that area, there are plenty of attractive guys, wanna-be actors and models and musicians.

I walked by again to check on them, but the little family was sitting in stony silence. Ezra obviously knew his parents were fighting, as he was just pushing his food around his plate, making a mess. Husband and wife sat, not eating, not talking, both looking incredibly pissed off. He put on a fake smile as I walked past, asking if they could just get the check. “Have a good night,” I said softly, hanging him the check, “Are you sure you don’t want me to pack this up for you?”

“No, it’s ok, thanks.” He handed me back the bill with some cash and started gathering his son up. His wife glared at him, swinging on her coat and disappearing out the door. He sighed as soon as she left, watching me stack all their uneaten plates together. “I’m really sorry about that,” he added on, touching my arm lightly, “She’s… upset with me.”

“It’s ok.” I smiled brightly, the high stack of plates balanced against my hip. “You be good, Ezra. Santa’s watching.” I tapped his nose lightly with my free hand, delighted to see him giggle.

“Have a happy holiday, Haley,” he said as he started walking away, “I don’t know if we’ll have time to stop in.”

“You too.” I watched them walk out, the people bustling passed the entrance quickly swallowing them up. I sighed, gathering whatever else I could into my hands and bringing the entire mess back to the dish room. Shelly was waiting as I walked up to the register to cash out their check, pulling the bill and money out of my pocket.

“You two looked friendly.”

“Oh, stop it. He’s fighting with his wife, and I was being nice. And holy shit…” I looked down at the money in my hands and at the computer screen. He had left me almost fifty extra dollars. Shelly glanced down at the money and then at the screen.

“I guess he is fighting with his wife. Maybe he needs a little comfort.”

“Oh Christ,” I muttered in reply, looking down at the money. Had he done it on purpose? He was a little distracted by his anger at his wife, and trying to gather up his son. Or was it an attempt to gather my attention? Whatever it was, an extra fifty was nice. I ignored Shelly’s intense stare and went back to clear off the rest of the mess on the table. “Ugh,” I mumbled to myself, pulling a napkin out from the menu holder, “Why can’t people just throw this shit on their plate or something? Why do they need to hide their trash?” I glanced down at the napkin, starting to crumple it until I noticed there was writing on it.

Ignore Natalie. Have a merry Xmas, Taylor.

What the fuck? I thought to myself, flipping the napkin over. There was more writing.

Yes, I can count. Think of it as an early present. Thanks for always being so sweet to Ezra.

Oh shit, I thought to myself, shoving the napkin in my pocket. Shelly is never going to let me hear the end of this. I just had the hot regular leave me a note telling me to ignore his wife, and a fifty. Why does this seem like a bad idea?

So I did what I felt was my only option; I didn’t tell Shelly, or anyone, about the note, and went about my business. It wasn’t until I was on my way home that I even remembered I’d had it, as soon after we had gotten a mini-rush and all I could think about was Coke or Diet Coke. I pulled the napkin out of my apron and sighed as I read it over. Tell me the married man is not hitting on me, I thought silently, he’s so hot, but I don’t want to be involved in cheating. I’ve dated plenty of people, but none of whom were attached to anyone, to the best of my knowledge.

Frustrated and annoyed, I did what any good college student with finals to study for would do; I went home, showered, called up a friend of mine and met him at the bar. Trusting him to not completely ridicule me, I spilled, over several drinks, the entire situation.

“Aw, Haley, I’m sorry,” he said, but he was laughing at me, “You’ve got a hot man who’s hitting on you. What’s the problem?”

“Sam, did you get the part where he’s married!” I shrilled, rolling my eyes and grabbing my drink. In a very un-lady-like gesture, I downed the rest of my Cosmopolitan in a gulp and flagged the bartender to get me another. “And shit, if it weren’t for him leaving that note, I still wouldn’t even know his name.”

“How long has this guy been coming in?”

“The last six months or so.”

“Well you said he’s really young. Maybe he’s regretting getting married. C’mon, Hales, if anyone is the ones to free him of his commitments, it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot back crossly, taking my drink with one hand and giving the bartender the money with the other. “I am not about to break up a marriage.”

“Seems like it’s going to break up with or without you.”

“Sam, they have a kid. This is the first time they’ve ever seemed even slightly unhappy. They’re not breaking up.” I scowled, sipping at my drink at a more rational pace. I had wanted him to tell me I was a silly stupid girl for even considering a married man; instead he was encouraging it. Maybe Sam wasn’t the best person to be talking to about this.

“Ok, Haley, then do what you want. Miss out on the gorgeous man. But if it were me, I’d leave my phone number with him.” He raised an eyebrow at me, lifting his drink to his lips, “If there’s really nothing wrong, the next time he comes in, they’ll be fine. And he won’t call.”

“And I’ll feel like an ass either way.”

“Yes, but if he calls, you’ll feel like a very sexually satisfied ass.” He smiled slyly, putting his hand on my bare arm. It was hot in the bar and I had shed my jacket to expose a knit tank sweater with a low cowl neck. The more Sam drank, the touchier he was getting. It didn’t help that we had… at a previous time… at previous times… used each other to relieve tension. “Or, you can come home with me and be satisfied.”

I shook my head, downing the rest of my drink, “I’m not going home with you, Sam. I have to be at work early tomorrow.”

“You said you were working tomorrow night.”

“I am. It’s called a double.” I shot him another nasty glare. “Must be nice to not have to work.”

He shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my fault my parents like to give me everything.”

I made a face at him, studying the man before me. He was definitely attractive, in that really rugged sort of way, with a square jaw that no matter how much he shaved always looked like it was stubbly. He had dark hair, cropped rather short, and deep brown eyes. But he was a snob, never settling for anything less than the best, and though he was an excellent friend to me, he could be an ass to many others. And he had no problem flaunting his excessive wealth.

Which on that night was ok with me, because all I had to do was tip the bartender. Which I was doing rather generously in my drunken aggravation. Maybe I should go home with him, I thought dully, returning to my drink. Maybe if I get laid I won’t stare at Taylor the next time he comes in.

Taylor, I repeated to myself, he actually has a name. It’s Taylor. Now I don’t have to call him Mr. Gorgeous. Not that it matters, I told myself.

“I’ve got to get home, Sam,” I mumbled finally, spinning on my bar stool. I didn’t need Sam. I needed a hot bath and my own bed, and a good night’s sleep before I had to go to work the next day. I dreaded the weekend more and more; while most college students I went to school with spent their weekends partying it up, the weekend meant I had to get up earlier and work extremely long shifts. This was the first Saturday night I had gone out to the bar in a long time, and as the room spun, I knew I was going to regret it.

I pretended to be looking through the crowd as I waited for my balance to reappear. Funny thing about drinking: you never realize just how much you’ve had until you stand up. I recommend not standing up. My eyes caught on a tall blond, standing next to two other relatively tall guys. I couldn’t see the blond’s face, but one of the other guys looked remarkably like Mr. Gorgeous. I wonder… I thought dimly to myself, picking my purse up off the bar, no… it can’t be. I’ve had too much to drink, I told myself, blushing brightly as the stranger turned around. He looked like Mr. Gorgeous alright, but even as he stared back at me, I told myself I needed to go home.

Wishing Sam a good night, I made my way out into the cold December street and hailed a cab.

2.

I had known I was going to regret drowning my sorrows in the morning, and as usual I was more than right. My head was pounding as I showed up for my shift, groggy from little sleep and hoping I didn’t throw up. I was also hoping my lovely boss didn’t notice my condition. The man had spent many years managing a restaurant frequently employing college students in New York City; he wasn’t stupid, and he knew a hangover when he saw one.

“Hey!” Shelly greeted my cheerfully as I tied on my apron. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned up against the wall, “Rough night?”

“Remind me why I let Sam take me to the bar?”

“Because it’s free alcohol and on occasion, no strings sex.”

“Oh. Right.” I laughed, knowing I could always count on Shelly for a good wise crack first thing Sunday morning. The breakfast rush hadn’t started yet, so for now it was just us servers, standing around. This was my time to wake up and joke around with the people I worked with, my weekly reminder why I didn’t just out right quit every time I got angry. That and the nice, fat tuition bill sitting on my desk at home.

But there was soon no time for chit-chat, as the morning rush arrived right on schedule. Sunday breakfast is… special. You spend hours running around, my eggs aren’t cooked enough, I didn’t want my yolks broken, this toast is too dark, on and on for hours. By the mid-afternoon, you smell of syrup and grease, and the sheen on your nails is not because you’ve had them freshly polished.

I was out on the floor with one of the bus pans, dumping all the remaining plates and trash from the breakfast rush into it. I had one table left, sipping coffee, their bill already paid. Now it was the mid-afternoon doldrums, the boredom and laziness that set in until the dinner rush arrived.

“Haley, you have a phone call,” my manager called and I sighed. I had repeatedly told my friends and family not to call me at work. The glare I got as I picked up the phone made me all the more confident I should ream out whoever this was. “This is Haley, how may I help you?”

“Haley?”

“Yeah, who is this?”

“Um…” It was a man’s voice, and I could hear the sounds of a child playing in the background. Oh no, I thought dimly, tell me Mr. Gorgeous is not calling me. Tell me that this mysterious Taylor, the hottest man ever that just happens to have been fighting with his wife, he is not calling me at work. “This is… uh… this is Taylor, Ezra’s father.”

“Oh.” Oh? How stupid do I sound? “Thanks for… the… thanks for last night.” My manager gave a very curious look at that statement and I blushed bright red. Way to phrase something, Haley, way to go.

“No problem.”

Awkward silence, through which my manager was glaring at me profusely. People were starting to filter in the door, and as it was never really busy, there were only a few of us on shift, myself one of them.

“Well, was there, uh, a reason you called? I am at work.”

“I didn’t have your actual phone number. I figured you would be at work. You’re always there.”

Oh shit.

“Um, well, why do you want my number?” You’re married, you have a son, and your wife hates me, I thought to myself. Haley, do not get involved with this man.

“I was wondering if you’d like to have a cup of coffee or something sometime.”

“Sure,” I replied, anxiously tapping my foot, “But look, I really have to go. Future reference, I’m really not supposed to get personal calls unless it’s an emergency, so please… if you need to talk to me, stop by or call my house, ok?”

“Well, you’d have to give me your number then.”

“Yeah, ok, but I really have to go now. We’ll talk later. Bye.” I slammed down the phone, my manager now staring at me with daggers in his eyes.

“Haley, you know…”

“I do know,” I cut him off. I sighed. I was friends with this particular manager, well, friendly. He was only a few years older than me, and for the most part was understanding about my schedule and sometimes need for shifts to get covered at the last minute. “Ok, you know that guy that normally comes in on Saturdays? The blond guy with the wife and kid?”

He nodded and laughed, “Yeah, the one you and Shelly do nothing but stare at.”

“Yeah, well that’s who that was, and he asked me for my home number and to go out for coffee.”

Mike raised his eyebrows at me. “Haley, he’s married.”

“I’m aware. Did you hear me give him my number?”

He eyed me carefully then rolled his eyes. “Alright, well, whatever the case may be, you’ve got a job to do. I suggest you go look busy before our oh-so-lovely boss spies you standing still for ten seconds.” I laughed, but did as I was told, hurrying off to the kitchen to find something to do. Shelly cornered me as soon as I was out of Mike’s sight. “Who was on the phone?”

“Oh Christ,” I mumbled to myself, staring back at her. I am never going to hear the end of this. “The guy. Mr. Gorgeous. He wants me to have coffee with him.”

“Holy shit! What’d you say?”

“That I was at work and he shouldn’t call here anymore looking for me.” I blushed crimson at the incredulous look that crossed her face, her hands flying to her hips in quite the indignant display.

“Haley Andrews! I can’t believe you!” she shrieked, pulling me back into the stock room. Hardly anyone ever came back here, and there was no watchful camera to notice us shirking out duties. “This is the man that you have wanted since you first saw him, and he just asked you to go get coffee and you said no?!”

“He’s married!” I all but shouted back, starting to get angry. Yeah, it was one thing to fantasize over a married man, and I felt slightly guilty about that. But to have a married man hitting on you, knowing he’s married, knowing he comes into your job with his wife… it’s an entirely different situation. I didn’t get why Shelly refused to see it that way.

“Well, he obviously doesn’t want to be,” she returned, a glint in her eyes, “That’s it. I’m covering the rest of your shift tonight. You’re leaving at five, and you’re going to go home and go out with Mr. Gorgeous.”

“Ha. Only I don’t have his number, and I didn’t give him mine.”

“The store has caller-ID.”

“And his came up blocked,” I returned promptly, giving her the most discouraging look I could muster. “I don’t know his last name so I can’t go looking through the phone book either.” She shrugged, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

“There is no will!” I stomped off, returning to the kitchen and promptly throwing myself into my work to avoid Shelly. I took every table that walked through the door myself, made all my own deserts, and didn’t ask anyone for help. If I could make it through the rest of the night without talking to a fellow employee – because of course Shelly had told everyone about my phone call and now everyone wanted to talk about it – I was going to be happy. I was then going to go buy a gun down in Harlem, show up at Shelly’s apartment, and shoot her square in the face.

I also refused to answer the phone all night, on the slight chance Mr. Gorgeous didn’t get the hint the first time he called.

I was in the back refrigerator, gathering up salad dressings that needed to be filled and other condiments we were running low on, enjoying the cool, quiet room. Ah, two minutes of peace and quiet, I thought gratefully, wiping at the sweat consolidated on the back of my neck, making me shiver in the fridge. But my peace was quickly ending, the door swinging open and Shelly’s overly-eager face greeting me. “It’s five,” she announced cheerfully, taking the dressings away from me, “Go home.”

“You’re not covering my shift for no reason,” I grumbled back, reaching for the salad stuff. I was still irritated with her for running her mouth to the entire store. “Mr. Gorgeous is Mr. Married and I told you, I’m not getting involved with that. And I don’t have his number, and he doesn’t have mine and…”

“He’ll be at your apartment at six-thirty,” Shelly finished, cutting me off. I stared at her, dropping the jug of honey-mustard dressing I was holding. Suddenly, there was a gallon of sweet-smelling yellow goo covering the fridge floor. “I’m sorry,” Shelly quickly apologized as my face flamed, “But he called again, and I knew you would just turn him down, and c’mon, Hales, you’ve been wanting this guy for months.”

“But I don’t want to break up a marriage! What part of that are you not getting!”

“The part where it’s going to be your fault their marriage ends. C’mon, Hales, if he’s asking hot waitresses out for coffee, he’s definitely either overly secure in his marriage, in which case you have nothing to worry about, or he’s considering ending his marriage, in which case, he’s already thinking it. So…” She stared down at her watch and then gave me a playful shove, “Get your ass home and make yourself beautiful. I’ll clean up this mess, and if it goes that horrible, then tomorrow I owe you…agreed?”

I shook my head at her, but mumbled an agreement and stomped off. What else could I do? The man was going to be at my apartment in just over an hour. And considering how persistent he seemed to be, I had a feeling he was going to sit there until I came home, invited or not. I could only imagine coming home, after hours of trying to avoid him, and finding him sitting on the steps of the old brownstone, waiting.

But I had to admit that by the time I got back to my apartment, I was excited, and incredibly nervous. Maybe Shelly was right. Maybe if he wanted to end his marriage on his own, then this wouldn’t ever be my fault. But, I thought sourly, toweling my hair after a long hot shower, that little boy is always going to be in his life. And his ex is always going to there, because she’s the mother of his child. And she’s going to blame me, if anything ever happened between us, and God only knows what she’ll tell Ezra.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself,” I whispered aloud, staring back at my reflection. I had chosen a pair of jeans, fitted with a rhinestone cursive ‘b’ on the back, and a black tank top, simple, but with some sparkles along the bust. It wasn’t flashy, but it was still subtly sexy. I didn’t bother putting on shoes, in some ways thinking he might not even show up, but if he did, I was going to take a good look at him before I decided between the casual slides or the ultra sexy stiletto boots.

I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, because I didn’t know what this was even about. The thought in the back of my mind was that this was not a date at all, but rather he was going to ask me if I could watch Ezra or something while he and his wife took a vacation to sort things out. Yes, I know, silly, stupid, a man does not hound you like that over baby-sitting, but stranger things… So I ran an iron over my already-straight mahogany hair, leaving it long and loose, and putting on very subtle makeup, little bit of liner, little bit of gloss, and call it a day.

I glanced over at the clock, wiping a smudge away from the corner of my eye. Six-twenty-eight. “Alright, Taylor, let’s see what you’ve got up your sleeve,” I mumbled to myself, going to the window and looking down. Sure enough, there was a tall blond walking down the street, stopping in front of my building. Laughing to myself, I buzzed him in before he even pushed the button and waited, standing next to my door.

That was fast, I thought to myself, peering through the peep-hole. He was in rare form tonight, with his hair falling messily over flushed cheeks, the cold from the outside turning even his nose bright pink. I opened the door with a smile, doing my best not to drool. He had on a leather jacket, hiding a tight tee and black pants that hugged his hips in just such a way that he was still sexy and masculine at the same time. I didn’t even mind the bright red scarf he had twisted around his neck, because it just looked… gorgeous.

“You’ve got a nice place,” he commented, stepping in and shaking himself warm. “I actually don’t live too far from here, so I walked. Sorry for the Rudolph nose.” He smiled that beautiful smile of his, lighting up his eyes and staring around the small rooms, like a little kid in the candy shop. I had photographs of my family everywhere, my friends from back home. Home being a small town upstate, and me living in the city without a car, I rarely saw my folks anymore and I missed my sister terribly. It was the picture of her that Taylor picked up off my mantle, holding it out, “Is this you?”

“No, it’s my sister.”

“She’s beautiful. You two look almost identical.” My face burned with the implied compliment. He put the photo down and stepped toward me, standing a little closer than I would have liked. It was so strange, how I had wanted this man so much and now… I just wanted him to disappear.

“Taylor.” I took a step back, forcing a deep breath of air into my lungs. “Ok, look, I don’t know what you’re looking for here… but you’re married. I know your wife. And your son. And…” I shrugged, having backed myself into my kitchen counter, where I leaned. “I’m not comfortable with… something happening.”

He laughed lightly, running his fingers through his long hair, his cheeks flushing brightly, only this time not from the cold. “Am I that obvious?”

I shrugged, shoving my hands in my pockets, “Look, Shelly set this up. Because yeah, ok, I’ve wanted you since the day I saw you. But… I can’t… you’re married!”

“Well, I won’t be much longer, if it makes you feel any better,” he revealed, a sad smile crossing his lips, “We’ve been talking about getting a divorce for a while. And it seems like it’s not going to be talk for much longer.” He sighed, shrugging off his coat and laying it on the back of my sofa. Make yourself comfortable, I thought to myself with a tiny smirk.

“It hasn’t shown.”

“Yeah, well, we try and keep it together for Ezra. I love my little boy, Haley, trust me I do.” He was standing closer to me again, and he raised one hand to my cheek, rubbing my skin softly with a callused thumb, “But my marriage? It’s not making either of us happy. And it’s tearing us apart. We want to be able to stay friends, because Nat’s great in a lot of ways, and we want our son to be loved. But we can’t… we’re not…” He sighed, taking his hand away from my cheek and shoving his fingers into his pockets. Now that he had taken the jacket off, he was showing off some beautiful muscle definition in his entire upper body. “Like I said, I love my son, but he was a mistake. I wouldn’t give him up for anything in this world, but we weren’t planning on it. I didn’t want to be a father that young, and I didn’t want to get married. But we did. So.”

“So,” I repeated, shivering as he put his hand on my cheek again, stepping closer, “So, does your wife know where you are?”

“More or less.”

“Well, here’s the thing. She’s still your wife. And you still bring her in with your son to my job. And if we… if this… I’m not going to be able to look this woman in the face.” I found myself backing up from him again, hiding in the corner almost. “Look, you seem like a great guy, and I would love to do this, I would… but can you just… sign your divorce papers first?”

“Haley…” His voice was gentle, and I had backed myself into the corner, so there was nowhere to go this time when he stepped close to me, taking my hands in his. They were definitely worn, callused by something. I wondered dimly what he did for a living, realizing that even though I saw this man every week, I knew next to nothing about him. “Look, I saw you out last night, and I just… you’re a beautiful woman. And you’ve got a great personality and you’re sweet to my son. Just… ok. You want me to back off until my divorce is final? Ok. But at least come have a drink with me. C’mon, you’re all dressed up already, it’d be silly to sit at home.” He smiled that oh-so-charming smile of his and stepped back, holding out his hand.

I stared at him for a long moment, and finally removed my arms from where they were crossed defensively over my chest, taking his hand. “One drink,” I replied, shrugging on my coat. But I was the one who put on the oh-so-sexy boots as we walked out the door.

Those boots? Not made for walking…

3.

I was laying in a dessert, surrounded by nothing but burning sad, certain I was going to die. I just needed water, just a small glass and I would be ok. But there was no water in sight, and I was stifling hot.

Blinking my eyes, I glanced to the right, my eyes blurring the numbers on my clock. It was somewhere around three in the morning and that burning in my throat was because I had had way too much to drink and smoked way too many cigarettes. I threw back the blankets and sat on the edge on my bed, recoiling at the sudden cold. I’m naked, I thought dimly, I don’t sleep naked in the winter. It’s too cold and I can’t afford to turn my heat up that high.

And it dawned on my feeble drunken mind.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled to myself, quickly grabbing the robe sitting on the chair near my bed and covering myself with it. I was still on the tipsy side, but not nearly as drunk as I had apparently been. Because there, in my bed, looking quite adorable as he slept, was a married man. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” I continued to repeat to myself, gnawing on my nails. It was a good thing they were fake or I wouldn’t have had any nails left by the morning. What the hell should I do? I thought to myself, quietly making my way to the kitchen. Not bothering with a glass, I reached into the fridge and grabbed the jug of Poland Spring and started drinking greedily. The water was cold and refreshing, but I knew I’d drank it way too fast as the nausea rose.

“Hey, easy, you’re going to make yourself sick,” Taylor said from behind me. I nearly choked at the sound of his voice, turning around quickly. My hand flew to my chest, making sure my robe was properly closed. He had put his jeans on, and was leaning in my doorway. I hated him for looking so incredibly attractive all over again, all the while my memories rushing back. We had gone to the bar down the street, and I had repeated “only one drink”. But then that one drink mysteriously got replaced with another, and he was so lovely to talk to. So we had kept talking, about his marriage, about his son, about my crazy life and I had forgotten my one-drink rule. And so it had been many drinks, and then that part of me that had wanted him since the moment I lay eyes on him? Well, that part of me won because the minute he kissed me on the steps of my apartment, I didn’t care what happened next. That kiss had been a slice of heaven, and though I knew it was going to hurt, I stuck my hand in the fire searching for more.

“Did I scare you?”

I nodded, sipping the water out of the jug more slowly, “Yeah, I’m not used to having strangers in my apartment at three in the morning.” I shut my mouth quickly. That’s right, Haley. You have a stranger in your apartment. A married stranger that you slept with. I glanced back over at him and got two glasses out of the cabinet, quickly filling them both and handing him one. “I know I was drinking out of the bottle and you saw that, but I wouldn’t drink the tap water if I were you.”

He laughed, taking the glass from me and sipping slowly, his hip balanced in the door frame. I was being watched and he wasn’t even trying to hide it, his eyes freely roaming over my entire body, lingering on my mostly exposed legs. “Um, I can go,” he said after a moment, his eyes reaching back up to mine, “I mean, you seem… uncomfortable.”

“I told you I wasn’t ok with this.”

“You were more than ok a few hours ago.”

“I was drunk!” I countered, starting to get annoyed. I had told him I didn’t want to be with him while he was married, and what had he done? Taken me to a bar, gotten me drunk? Seduced me? What was this anyway, just some one-night-stand, the entire line about his divorce just a complete crock? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. It did make a lot of sense; girl knows about your wife, make up a story about a divorce; girl doesn’t want to sleep with you because she doesn’t quite believe you, sweet talk girl while you get her drunk. Let girl trust you, then fuck girl over. Literally.

“And I wasn’t?” Fear flickered in his eyes and he took a step back, holding out his hands, “Whoa, you’re not turning this into rape, are you, because I definitely did not…”

“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head and sipping at my water. My anger quickly melted, gazing at him, seeing real fear in his eyes, “No, Taylor, please, I’m not saying that. I’m a big girl and I made my own decision. It’s just… I had told you one drink for a reason. I didn’t want this to happen.”

“I didn’t want a son. But I got one.” His eyes met mine again and he took a step closer, setting the glass down on the counter, “And I wouldn’t want to change anything about him.”

I sighed, staring back at him. I hadn’t bothered to turn on any of the lights, instead feeling my way around in the dim light constantly afforded by the street lamps. It had been one thing to see him with his family, always dressed so nicely, if not strangely, but here he was, standing in my kitchen in only his jeans, his hair in crumpled strands around his face, his hips exposed as the jeans sank low without a belt. Part of me wanted to take him right back into bed and see what fun we could have sober.

That part of me lost.

“You should probably get back home to that son,” I said after a moment, taking the two glasses and putting them in the sink. “I’m sure Ezra needs his daddy first thing in the morning.” I refused to look at him, running the tap and putting some soap on a sponge, the rings I wore constantly clinking against the glass.

His arms were around my waist quicker than I could have imagined, his body pressed to mine. “His mom can watch him. I want to wake up with you in the morning,” he whispered in my ear, his long bangs tickling me as much as his hot breath, his hands roaming a little freer than I liked across my waist. He reached for the tie on my robe, slowly pulling on the satin fabric. As soon as I felt it sliding apart, I sighed, turning around to face him.

“Taylor,” I started, gently removing his hands and tightening my robe around me. “I’m serious. You should go home to… your son. And… your wife.” Hurt flickered in his eyes as the words left my mouth and he silently stepped back, disappearing into my bedroom. I sighed heavily, leaning against the counter and rubbing my eyes. This wasn’t fair. He was a wonderful person, short of his non-finalized divorce, and I really had enjoyed our conversation before I… didn’t remember our conversation. I wanted this, I really did, but I couldn’t.

He reappeared in the kitchen, silently walking passed me into the living room for his shoes, coat and scarf. I wanted to follow him, I wanted to say something, anything, but I was at a loss. I just kept waiting to hear the front door open and close, and never see this beautiful, intelligent man again.

But instead, after a lengthy pause, he was standing in front of me again, his shoes on, his coat covering what I now knew to be a rather impressive build for such a lanky guy. “You should get back in your bed,” he whispered, running his fingers along my jaw and neck, “It’s freezing.” I nodded, blinking my eyes furiously. Why was he being so nice to me, while I was being such a bitch to him? I wanted to remove myself from where I was standing, wake up in the morning and have it all be some sort of awesome, terrible mistake. I wanted to wake up and go to work and see Mr. Gorgeous, who didn’t have a name, with that adorable son of his. I didn’t want Taylor, the married man, standing in front of me looking so disappointed.

“Haley,” he began, gnawing on his bottom lip as he fingered his scarf nervously, “I get what you mean about… my marriage. But I’m telling you, we are separating. Our relationship has been over since Ezra was born.” It was his turn to blink furiously now. “It’s… having a child changes everything. Having one that young…” He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair, and reaching into his pocket. It was s scrap of paper folded a dozen times, a thick triangle he pressed into my palm. “But I do have one. And even though I’m done with Nat, Ezra’s always going to be a part of me. And I have to say that to you, only to be fair. I think you’re a great girl, and I would love to try things with you. But…”

I put my hand on his arm, squeezing the cool leather. “It’s ok. I got you.” I took a deep breath, let myself drown, if only for a few minutes, in the deep purple that was his eyes in the dim light. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to play the part of mom, especially when Ezra’s already got a mom.”

“I’m not asking you to be his mom. I’m just asking you to understand he’s going to be in my life, always.” He sighed, stepping back from me and rubbing his head, mussing his hair. I nodded, withdrawing my hand from his arm and re-crossing my own arms over my chest. I sighed as he turned, obviously starting to leave, fingered the wad of paper in my palm, “Taylor.”

“Yeah?”

“I…” I stopped, chewing on my lip, searching for the right words, “I enjoyed tonight. Really… I’m serious. If it weren’t for… you’re a great guy. But I can’t now. I just…”

He had stepped closer to me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. I fell silent as he stood right up against me, unwinding the scarf from his neck and slowly wrapping it around mine. He leaned forward, dropping a gentle kiss on my mouth and stepping back. “I’ll see you around,” he said quietly, standing for one more long moment at the door before disappearing into the night.

Around, I thought silently, fingering the soft scarf wound around my neck. Around, as in you’re going to come into the restaurant with your wife and kid and I’m not going to be able to look at you without thinking about how you were in my bed, among other things. My cheeks flamed as I thought about it, and I was only by myself in my dark apartment.

“What a mess,” I said aloud, sinking down on the edge of my bed and turning on the lamp. The paper he had handed me was actually folded up into a triangle, the same way that we folded notes when I was in middle-school. Interesting, I thought to myself, when did he have time to do this?

Probably around my seventh drink.

I sighed, slowly unfolding this mysterious note.

Haley – I want you to know I don’t always do this… this quickly. I don’t know what you think of me or how you think I’ve been in life, and I know having a child at 19 doesn’t bode so well, but I really like you. So if I’ve given you this, I’ve left your apartment, and I hope it’s on good enough terms for you to use this number. Call anytime, it’s my private cell-phone. I can’t wait to see you again… Taylor.

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed aloud, dropping the note to the floor and putting my head in my hands. Yanking my robe tightly around myself again, I stood, going to the window and pulling open the curtain. Just as I had suspected, Taylor was sitting on my stairs, smoking a cigarette. Not so eager to go home, are you? Maybe your wife doesn’t actually know where you are.

I thought about getting dressed quickly, maybe even calling him and saying, come back up, stay the night, wake up with me, but I couldn’t. I just watched him smoke his cigarette through the crack in the curtain, watched as he ground it into the step and stood, shuffling his feet and hunching his shoulders. A breeze blew his hair back and I watched as he turned up the collar on his jacket. No scarf, I thought, lightly touching the soft red fuzz around my own neck, he must be cold. I knew I should turn off the light and get into bed; there were finals to study for and take the following day, and I should not be standing at my window, still slightly buzzed, watching a handsome mystery man walk away from my apartment but I couldn’t help myself. Of course, he looked over his shoulder, and of course he caught me watching him. Our eyes met as he stopped, turning and staring at where I stood. He waved, and blew a kiss, looking quite forlorn.

Me? I snapped the curtains shut and told myself as sternly as possible that I was done with that man.

So I’m a bit of a liar.

I went to bed and put his phone number carefully hidden in my nightstand. Without the number constantly ready at hand in my phone, I wouldn’t be quite so tempted to call him, but I would have it, just in case… by some miracle… I had a change of heart.

So I threw myself into everything non-Taylor, which ended up being rather helpful with my exams. Surprising how much last minute studying paid off. The week dragged on, my nose constantly in a book, and I avoided talking to anyone at work. Shelly plagued me with questions, all of which I refused to answer, much to her dismay. But it was like anything; ignore it long enough, and it goes away.

I was applying the same philosophy to Taylor. My phone rang often enough, but there was never a message from the sexy blond. Telemarketers, friends, my family, they all left messages, but not a one from Taylor. It didn’t help I didn’t answer my phone unless the caller had identified themselves. But he didn’t show up at my job either, or at the bars I frequented, so I figured maybe he really was just going to leave me be.

Yet something strange about ignoring people; they don’t go away like bad habits.

Walking back to my apartment some time after my last exam, I was in good spirits. I had stopped at Starbucks to indulge myself in the holiday treat of a peppermint mocha, and I could put away all school paraphernalia for nearly a month. I had the following day off from work, so that meant tonight was an excellent night to call Sam and hit the bars, maybe even go downtown and hit the clubs.

My pleasant afternoon was shattered when I arrived at my front steps. There he was. Mr. Married. I touched the scarf at my neck and sighed to myself. Wearing it had been asking for trouble; the minute he saw it, he was going to know how I had been playing our every moment together over and over in my head. It didn’t matter where I was, on the subway, in a taxi, taking my history final, I was constantly replaying his hands, his lips, every word that had come out of his mouth.

I slowed down as I saw him, aware he hadn’t seen me yet. Fuck, I thought to myself, smoothing down my NYU sweatpants. I look like shit, I haven’t showered today, and there he is, looking as gorgeous as ever, waiting on my front steps. As I got closer, I could hear him humming or singing, I wasn’t sure which, because if there were lyrics they were far too garbled to be understood.

Yet finally, I was standing dead in front of him, me bundled in layers and a sweatshirt, his scarf wrapped securely around my neck, him in jeans and his leather jacket, zipped all the way up this time and topped with another scarf, this one a pale violet sort of color. The man wears purple and likes women, I thought to myself, and that shade makes his eyes just look even better.

“Haley.” He smiled brightly, quickly standing up and eyeing my notebooks, “Just coming from school?”

“Last exam.” I narrowed my eyes, shifting my weight around. Damn books. “What’re you doing here? And how long have you been here?”

“I don’t know, an hour at the most. I stopped by the restaurant and Shelly said you had a final.”

Note to self. Beat Shelly within an inch of her life. Rip out her vocal chords so can not ever tell him where I am or what I’m doing again.

“Ok, well, did someone die? What’s so important you’ve been sitting out in the cold for an hour?”

Could I be more of a bitch?

“Well, you never gave me your number, so I couldn’t call you. And you never called me. So…” He smiled slyly, standing up and looking down into my eyes. “I figured I’d show up here. And if you hadn’t called because you hated me, I would go away, and if you hadn’t called because you’ve been busy, then I’d take you out to relax.”

I sighed, stepping passed him up the stairs, “Taylor… look, like I said, you’re a great guy. But… the issues that keep me from dating you haven’t gone away in the last week, I know they haven’t, so please… respect what I’m telling you.” I turned away from him again, digging through my bag for my keys. “I have been busy, but I didn’t call because well, your wife might answer and that would just be awkward.”

“I told you, it’s my cell phone.” He pulled a small, silver phone out of his pocket, tossing it up and down in his hands, “I’ve always got it on me. Nat’s not going to answer it.” A slow, goading grin came back onto his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, you said finals are over, and Shelly said you don’t have to work tomorrow, so let me take you out to celebrate.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Aw, c’mon, Haley, let me take you out. When was the last time you could go out and relax?”

I sighed, turning and glancing at him before returning to my search for my keys, “I go out with my friends. And I don’t end up sleeping with them because I’ve had too much to drink and regret it in the morning.”

“Did you really regret it?”

Oh fuck, I thought, finally locating my keys and yanking them out. If I tell him I did, I’m lying and he knows it, or I wouldn’t even be talking to him now. If I tell him I didn’t, it’s just going to encourage him more. “No,” I replied after a lengthy pause, reaching for the lock with my key, “No, I didn’t regret it.”

“Ok, well then just one drink,” he replied. I snapped around at the statement, eyeing him suspiciously. He instantly burst into laughter, leaning on the rail and looking up at me, “No, really, I promise, just one drink.”

This got you in a whole lot of trouble last time, I told myself, shifting my weight around and listening to my keys clank. You should just tell him no, go inside, call Sam, and let him make you forget about this lovely man. Instead, I found a smile on my face, my lips forming words I didn’t know I was saying, “I’ll meet you at the same bar at nine. Don’t be late.”

I didn’t understand what he liked about me so much, but there must have been something, because he hurried up the stairs as soon as I agreed, only to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. His fingers hesitated on the scarf, his eyes brightening with his grin, “Red looks good on you,” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm against the chill of New York December. But then he was gone, a sauntering blond following the sidewalk away from my building, and me a puzzled brunette wondering what on earth had just hit me.

4.

“Shelly, really, I could kill you,” I muttered into the phone, digging through my jewelry box. It was nearing eight-thirty and I was putting the finishing touches on my outfit, which I had to admit, was quite a peace of work. But it wasn’t for Mr. Married, no, not at all; I had called Sam and arranged to meet him at the bar at ten, giving me a good hour to indulge the married man before heading out for a night on the town. The killer dress with the spike heels was not for his benefit; it was for whatever single man struck my fancy that night.

She laughed, her voice far away as I tilted the phone and shoved my earrings through the holes, tiny diamond studs. Classy, but still gorgeous. “You know you love me for this. You’re going to have a great time,” she continued, “You know you couldn’t wait to see him again. You’ve been wearing that scarf he gave you all week.”

I sighed and stared into the mirror, watching as my cheeks slowly turned crimson. “It’s been cold. And it’s a nice scarf.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ya know what, Shelly? I’m going to be late. Bye!” I hung up quickly, ignoring her protests loudly screaming across the line. Putting down the phone, I sat back in front of the mirror, digging through my lipsticks and glosses before settling on a red gloss. Courtesan. I rolled my eyes and grimaced as I slid the lush color over my lips. Hardly.

“Alright,” I whispered to myself, standing and checking over my appearance. Black halter dress with purple satin ties around my neck, and a flounce skirt with matching satin inserts, but they only showed when I moved. Otherwise, it appeared to be just another little-black-dress. Have to have the surprise element, I thought to myself, raising at eyebrow at my reflection. I did a quick run-through of my purse, wallet, keys, jacket, cell-phone and was out the door, feeling quite confident tonight was going to be fun. See Mr. Married for a little while, give that itch a little scratch, and then move on to the real fun. Everybody has fun, no one gets hurt, I reaffirmed to myself, escaping my building and shivering as I hit the street.

It wasn’t a far walk to the bar, but New York sidewalks are not kind to heels. The blast of warm air and noise was a welcome relief from the bitter December night. I did a quick scan of the room, looking for Taylor. I had purposely showed up late, just to see how he reacted. Granted, it was five minutes, but still. I spotted him sitting in a corner at one of the tables, perched on a stool and running his finger along the edge of his glass. He didn’t look happy.

“Hey,” I greeted him as cheerfully as possible, sliding onto the stool across the table. He looked up and smiled but it was obviously faked.

“You look really pretty,” he said after a moment, his eyes wandering over my dress and heels. “I feel severely underdressed.”

I glanced at his jeans and T-shirt, and shrugged. “I’m meeting a friend here in an hour. We’re going to hit a few clubs.”

“Oh,” he replied flatly, his eyes going back to the table, his finger running the rim of his beer, “Well, I mean, if you’re meeting someone, I can just go.”

I stared at him, puzzled. Where was the oh-so-persistent, oh-so-friendly Taylor of not a few hours previous? Why was he suddenly a moody little ball of gloom? I reached across the table, squeezing his fingers and waiting for him to look up at me, his eyes sullen and closed off, “Did something happen?” I asked quietly, leaning closer, “I mean, I don’t want to pry, but you seemed fine earlier and now…”

He pulled back, leaning against the back of the chair and eyeing my suspiciously. He didn’t say anything as a waitress came over and I ordered my drink, finally shrugging off my coat before leaning closer again. “I wish I could still smoke in here,” he mumbled instead of answering me, glancing longingly at the door, “I hate New York.”

“I don’t think you hate New York. I think you love New York. If you hated it, you would have left the city for cleaner, cheaper places a long time ago,” I returned, staring back at the indignant look he gave me. “And if you want to smoke, there’s the door. I’ll be here when you get back.”

He shot me an annoyed look and gladly accepted the fresh beer set before him as my drink also arrived. I noticed the waitress stare at him for a long moment before she left, and he grew visibly uneasy. What is his deal, I thought irritably, twisting the stirrer in my drink and staring at the light pink liquid, “Alright, well, here’s the thing. You wanted to come out to celebrate. You were in a good mood. So obviously something shitty happened between then and now. You can tell me what it is, and I can listen and try to help. Or you can snap out of it. Because I’m not going to sit here and stare at you all night.” The shock on his face told me maybe I had gone a little too far.

“Not all night,” he returned with a smirk, his eyes betraying a rising anger, “Just for an hour.” He glanced down at his watch, then back at me, “Actually, forty-two minutes.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed, leaning back. “Whatever. Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to take a cab to my friend’s?”

“Do what you want.”

“I want you to talk to me,” I snapped back, knowing my frustration was showing, “I want you to explain to me what happened that was so dreadful that you’re a ray of fucking sunshine and then your puppy just died.”

His eyes smoldered over the rim of his glass as he took another gulp of the pale amber liquid. “You know what, Haley? Why don’t you just call up one of your little friends and go be a silly college girl, ok?” His snide tone told me it wasn’t just his attempt to make me stop questioning him; he was calling me a child. And if there was one thing Haley Andrews was not, it was a child.

“Excuse me?”

“Go.” He pointed at the door and stared back down into his beer, “Go to a frat party, go to a sorority house, go do whatever it is that stupid little college girls do without anything to worry about except themselves.”

Are you kidding? First he’s married, now he’s bi-polar, I thought to myself, my eyebrows tightly knit. I was torn between outright rage – how dare he? – and sympathy; something terrible had obviously happened, as never once had I heard the man be so mean. Yet at the same time, something shitty happening did not give him free license to ream me out – especially when he was wrong.

“First of all, I’ll have you know that I’m twenty-two. Next semester is my last. I will also have you know that I have paid for my entire education myself. And my apartment. And I have no loans. I have never once asked for a handout. I work hard, and I have all my life. I have been to one frat party in my entire college career and I hated it. So. You want to tell me how I’m just a silly little college girl some more, I’m waiting.” I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him as he stared back at me in utter shock. “I’m sorry I’m not a mom, and I’m sorry I’m not at the end of a marriage and I’m sorry I didn’t rush into adulthood the same way you did. But you don’t know me at all. And you have no right to be making judgments like that about me.”

He spun his glass around the dark table top, his cheeks slowly flushing. The shame was written all over his features. “I’m sorry,” he finally murmured after a lengthy – and rather uncomfortable – silence. “I’m sorry, Haley, I know you work hard. I see you work hard. I should never have said…” He sighed. “I can just go,” he finally added on, his eyes still not leaving the table.

“You don’t have to go.” I reached across the table and took his hand again, waiting for him to look up. His eyes were glassy, walls of ice when his gaze finally met mine. “Just, c’mon, tell me what happened. I might be able to help.”

“Know any good divorce lawyers?” He laughed a bitter, melancholy laugh. “Yeah… apparently this divorce isn’t go to go through quite as nicely as I had hoped. Nat’s making it… difficult.”

“I don’t want to pry… but what? Ezra?”

“Not so much Ezra. Thank God for that much.” He sighed, twisting his hands in his lap and furrowing his brow. “I don’t want to go into it, but suffice it to say, I’ve made a lot of money. And she’s… a lot of it came from before we were married. We signed a pre-nup, and it clearly says what she gets, and she’s fighting for more. A lot more. And she’s using Ezra as leverage, telling me if I give up enough money, she won’t fight for full custody.”

“Oh, Taylor, I’m really sorry,” I said softly, squeezing his fingers tightly, entwining mine with his. “I really wish I could help, but I don’t know anything about the legalities of divorce.”

“Neither do I. Hence, the lawyer search.” He took another large gulp of his beer, draining the rest of the glass. “I just don’t… we were doing ok. We were getting along, and we both wanted this to go smoothly. And then I get home today from your apartment and she tells me all this. That she wants more money or she’s taking Ezra. And how they always favor the mother and all that.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing heavily. So it wasn’t that his puppy had gotten run over; it was more like his marriage got hit by a Mack truck.

Then I did a little mental pause and rewind.

“Wait,” I began, nervously licking my lips, “Did you tell… Natalie” – saying her name left a foul taste in my mouth, a reminder that I was treading a dangerous line with a married man – “About me? I know last time I asked, you said more or less, but did you say it was me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you tell Natalie that you were… seeing… me? Did you tell her that you slept with me?” I added on, my voice dropping to a near whisper. In the loud bar, I could see him struggling to make out what I had said, so I repeated myself, carefully enunciating every syllable.

“Yes, I told her,” he said after a long moment, staring down into his drink. “Like I said… me and her… we haven’t been… in love… in years. This is the first time I’ve been with someone else, and I told her about it. I felt that I owed it to her, to let her know I was seeing someone. Someone that would be around her son.” His gaze fell on mine and I felt my cheeks flaming.

What was I supposed to say to that, other than, great…

“Um, well, I didn’t know we were seeing each other,” I said slowly, raising my glass to my lips and draining it. I caught the waitress’s eye and pointed to my glass, smiling as politely as I could. She nodded and I couldn’t wait for that drink to arrive.

“Well, what do you call it?” There was a lot more hurt in his tone that I would have preferred, but it also proved to me he wasn’t ready to start dating again. I had no interest in being anyone’s wife, not even Mr. Gorgeous’, and all appearances led me to believe he was looking for another wife. The hurt he was displaying, after only knowing me a short period of time, and having limited contact, told me he had gotten way too attached, way too fast.

“I would call it…” – pick and choose your words carefully, Haley – “I would say that… you are a wonderful person. But I told you, I can’t… with your circumstances… and with the fact that you seeing me seems to have sent your wife into vicious bitch mode… I can’t…” I trailed off, smiling thankfully at the waitress as she set down my drink, bringing Taylor another beer as well. The same strange exchange occurred, her eyes lingering on him curiously, as if she recognized him, his avoidance of her glance, his visible unease. “Divorces are hard enough if you’re still getting along, never mind if you’re not.”

“Haley…” He sighed, taking a few gulps off the top of his beer as the waitress walked away. “Alright, you may be right. There may be some truth to Nat’s reaction to me seeing someone else. I mean, I don’t get it, it’s not like we’re still in love, and we’re in the process of getting a divorce. If it weren’t for legalities and Ezra… we would have broken up years ago.” He put his face in his hands, staring down at the table top and running his fingers through the rings of water left by the glasses. “I don’t get it.”

I couldn’t say I did either, other than this woman was possessive and maybe afraid for her child. If Ezra was mine, I’m not sure I would enjoy the idea of some other woman watching him, or holding him, or getting close to him in a motherly fashion. Granted, it was extreme to think that just because he was seeing someone meant that Ezra would soon have a step-mother, but…

“Did you tell Natalie… did you tell her that it was me, specifically? Haley, the waitress?”

“No.” His eyes met mine, the walls right back up, the defenses in position. “I didn’t think it was her business. I felt an obligation to tell her I had met someone and that I was interested.” He paused, looking down and adding on in a barely understandable mumble, “Someone that I’ve come to care about.”

“Taylor,” I began, laughing nervously, “How can you care about me? I don’t even know your last name. The only thing I’ve known about you for months is that you’re a nice guy who enjoys bacon cheeseburgers, has an adorable son, and tips well. Oh, and that you’re married.” I shook my head, spinning the stirrer in my drink, trying to get to the cherry at the bottom, “I think you’re putting more in this than there really is.”

Now he definitely looked hurt. I glanced down at my watch, noting I had only ten minutes left before Sam showed up. And I didn’t want Sam to meet Taylor, because I could only imagine the conversation, and display of possessive pride Sam would put on – and the quiet certainty that Taylor would rise to the occasion.

“Well, I think you’re not giving me enough credit.” His eyes finally left the rim of his glass and met mine, that sad smile back on his lips, “Or yourself.” He stood up, stumbling slightly and blushing as he pulled his coat around his shoulders, another scarf, this one pale blue, securing itself around his neck. “You have my number. Call me… when you’re ready,” he whispered, leaning close to my ear, “I’ll be waiting.” He bent closer, brushing a kiss on my cheek and starting to make his way through the crowd.

“And where do you think you’re going?” I heard Sam’s booming voice before I saw him, already warm with a few drinks, slinging his arm around Taylor’s shoulder. Even in the dim light, I could see the irritation rising quickly in Taylor’s features as Sam dragged him back toward me. He tried to make a nice, smooth getaway, and Sam had just done a mighty job of ruining it. “Where was he going?” Sam demanded as he stopped in front of me, not hiding his careful examination of my figure as Taylor glowered, having quickly shaken off Sam’s arm.

I sighed heavily, grabbing my jacket off the back of the bar stool and sliding to the ground. “Taylor was just leaving,” I informed Sam, giving him the dirtiest look I could muster. “He has to get home.”

But by now, it was too late. The game of who was the bigger man had begun, Taylor’s jaw set in a rigid line, his teeth clenched and a fake smile on his lips as he glared at Sam. “Actually, I could stay out for a while longer. No one’s expecting me anytime soon.”

“I see.” I glanced from one to the other, slapping money down on the table and tugging my coat around me. Sam and I hadn’t had any intention of staying at the bar, so I began to march myself right on outside. Yet once on the sidewalk, looking from Sam, chest puffed out, eyes glittering with what I knew he saw as a challenge, and Taylor, his jaw still tight, his eyes clouded, I lost all desire to go out and party. My conversation with Taylor had gotten to me more than I cared to admit, and I didn’t feel like watching Sam put on his show, watching Taylor’s hurt displayed all over his delicate features. So much as for the hot shoes and even hotter dress.

“You know what?” I took a moment to stare at each of them, my eyes settling on Taylor’s. “I think I’m just going to go home. I don’t really feel like going out anymore.”

“But Hales! We were going celebrating! It’s Christmas break!” Sam protested loudly as I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my cigarettes and lighter, Taylor quickly reached for his too.

“Yeah, but I just feel like a movie and a bowl of popcorn. Maybe a hot bath,” I replied, taking a deep drag on my cigarette. Sam stared at me for a long moment, his eyes full of suspicion, sneaking glances at Taylor, whose face had become unreadable.

“Ok. Well whatever. Blow me off. I don’t care. I’m sure there’s someone in that bar that wants to have a good time tonight,” Sam snapped after a lengthy pause, shooting another glare at Taylor, who had the faintest hint of a smile gracing his lips. He offered me only one more nasty look before storming back into the bar. Taylor and I simply stood there, me shivering in the cold, quietly smoking our cigarettes as the music thumped through the glass.

“I should go,” I said after a moment, stealing a glance at him. His cheeks were flushed, whether from the alcohol, Sam’s little act, or the cold, I couldn’t be sure.

“Let me walk you home. It’s late and cold.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, I want to walk you home.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, stabbing his cigarette out on the sidewalk. “Why is it no matter what I say to you, you misunderstand me?”

I shrugged, shivering once more and sending my cigarette to join his, watching as they together rolled over the edge of the walk, lovers sent tumbling by the wind. “I don’t know, Taylor, I just don’t know.” I turned and started to walk back in the direction of my apartment, glad he understood me and followed. Glad enough I didn’t mind when he wrapped his arm around me as I shivered again, rubbing my arm as he held me close. I loved the smell of leather and cigarettes, his cologne barely detectable in the cold New York night.

We walked in silence toward my apartment, the click of my heels and the hum of the city our soundtrack. It felt nice in a way I couldn’t explain, in a way I hadn’t felt in a while. My drinks had left me buzzed enough that once I was walking, I didn’t mind the cold, but I wasn’t going to let Taylor know that. His arm around me felt way too nice.

I was falling for him, married or not, and I was beginning to understand there was no going back.

He stopped at the bottom of my steps, licking his lips and glancing down. Signs of nervousness, I thought mildly, digging in my pocket for my keys and leaning against the rail. He sighed, then glanced up at me again. “So if I were to ask you if you wanted company for this quiet night at home, would you be offended or would I get to see that beautiful smile of yours?”

In spite of my best effort not to, a smile slowly crept across my lips, my cheeks flushing like a school-girl. This was getting bad, and it was getting bad fast. “Maybe if you asked, you would find out,” I returned playfully, taking another step up the stairs.

“What if I’m afraid to ask? What if I’m afraid of rejection?”

“Then I think you should grow some balls,” I teased, laughing at the look of indignation that crossed his face.

“For that, I’m not asking,” he informed me, racing up the stairs and beating me to the door. He plucked the key from my hands and twisted it in the lock, smiling impishly, “For that, you’re now stuck with me.”

“You say that as if I’m being punished,” I whispered in his ear as I slid past him into the building, mounting the stairs towards my apartment. Maybe the shoes and dress weren’t going to waste after all.

5.

“I know I’m setting myself up for a whole world of bad here, but can I ask you something? And you’ve got to promise not to get angry with me.” Taylor was making a meal of his bottom lip, his eyes on the fingers he twisted through the soft blanket covering our legs. We had made it as far as my couch, the movie put on hold as we talked. Not that I particularly minded his arms around me, our legs twisted together under the soft chenille blanket. But he was right; his question did set him up for a world of bad, as I could feel the muscle in my back instantly turn to concrete.

“Um, well, ok,” I said after a pause, staring at him, “But you’ve got to know I’m not making any promises.”

He laughed nervously, fingering the edge of the blanket again, the rich burgundy making his skin appear even more pale in the dim light. Another long pause followed, the awkward silence filling the room tensely, before he spoke, “Sam? What exactly… what is… is he?” His words trailed off and his eyes finally met mine.

I knew it wasn’t the best thing I could have done, but I burst out laughing. His instant hurt betrayed how much the question had meant to him, his eyes quickly returning to the blanket. “Taylor,” I said gently, reaching for his hands and waiting for his eyes to return to mine, “Sam is a good friend of mine. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Then why did he get so… jealous?” he mumbled, his eyes fleeing as quickly as the words left his lips. I sighed heavily, an indulgent smile settling on my lips. “Sam is protective. Like I said, he’s a very good friend. And he knows about you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted, instantly defensive.

“It means that I told him you’re married. And you have a kid. And an interest in me.” I sighed, pushing the blanket off my legs and standing. I hadn’t bothered to change when we had first come back to the apartment, but the quick excuse to get away from the uncomforatableness that was Taylor, even for a minute, was welcome. “I’m going to go change. This dress is way too expensive to get this wrinkled.”

“I like that dress,” he quickly replied, a pout soon covering his lips. He stood up, shoving the blanket back on the couch, and coming to stand in front of me. He dropped his hands to my hips as if it were the most natural thing, as if they belonged there. Against my will, I couldn’t help but wonder if he still touched his wife like this. And it was as he was leaning in to kiss me that he saw the frown drawing all my features down. “Ok, what did I do now?”

I sighed, gently pushing him away and taking a step toward my bedroom, grabbing my shoes off the floor. “Maybe you should leave,” I said after a moment, playing with the straps on my shoes, dangling from fingers.

His face was instantly pulled into confusion, his eyebrows knitted together. He cleared his throat and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, watching me lean into the doorway. “Can I ask why?”

I shrugged, turning away. “I’m tired.”

“Haley…” he called after me as I started toward my bedroom again, his voice soft. “Please tell me what I did. Just… give me the courtesy of being honest.”

I turned back around, rubbing my eyes, ruining my makeup I’m sure. Oh, well, I thought to myself, not like I’ve got anyone to impress anyway. “Just… you know, ok? You know what I don’t like about you. And I’m sorry, but I can’t help that when you put your hands on me, when you say something sweet, when you kiss me…” I trailed off, staring back down at the carpeting and weaving my toe through the fibers. “I can’t help but wonder if you still touch Na… your wife… like that, if you’re still sweet to her, and if you still kiss her when you come home.” Christ, I can’t even say her name, I thought, full of guilt as I stared back into the endless pools of his eyes.

“Do you know when the last time I kissed Natalie was?” he asked after a long moment, his features hardening, his eyes instantly walling over. I refused to answer him, instead continuing to make a careful examination of my shoes, the hem of my dress. I could feel his eyes still on me, hard and cold at my accusations, but still I said nothing. “We don’t even sleep in the same bed,” he finally continued, his hands clenching into fists in his pockets, the seams stretching with his anger. “If, and that’s if, I even sleep there anymore, ‘cause to be honest, I sleep more and more at my brother’s, I stay in the guest room. I think the last nice thing Natalie and I said to each other without an audience was, ‘good morning’ and that was almost two weeks ago.” He stopped, running his fingers through his hair, my eyes meeting his for a fleeting second before they returned to the ground. I felt like an asshole now, there was no getting around it; I had accused him of two-timing, when in reality he went home to a rather frigid welcome most nights. “Look, I don’t know what kind of cock-eyed opinion you’ve formed of me, but I’m not the type who dates two women at once. Any form of anything with Natalie is for the sake of my son. I told you once, I’ll say it again: My marriage has been over for some time. Filing this paper work is a formality, a formality I wouldn’t even care so much about if it didn’t decide how much I get to see my son.”

He finally stopped and fell silent, his cheeks bright red. I couldn’t help but be slightly taken aback at the show of emotion, his eyes glistening as he neared the end of his tirade, his voice dropping almost to a whisper as he said the last sentence. A part of me insisted it only proved how much I wasn’t ready for this, how much I knew I couldn’t deal with someone with so much baggage, not to say I was perfect. I had my history, I had my skeletons, but they tended to stay in the closet where no one could see them.

“I’m going to change,” I whispered after a moment, turning and closing my door softly behind me. As soon as the door was shut, I started cursing under my breath. What a mess I was making of things. I said I wasn’t going to get involved with him while he was still married, but then I made time for him. I let him come back to my apartment, I let myself start to think it could work – and then instantly proved it couldn’t. And instead of simply insisting he just leave, I let myself be talked into hearing an explanation. And now I just felt horrible. What was I supposed to say to his outpouring?

“Haley, Haley, Haley,” I muttered, glancing at myself in the mirror as I re-hung the dress in my closet, pulling out a comfy sweat shirt and a black pair of yoga pants. It was still bitterly cold outside, and I wasn’t about to waste money on a silly thing like heat. But I took my time, all the same, doing my very best to avoid having to go back out and face Taylor. What does a single college girl say to a man that already been married, had a kid, and was now going through a divorce? What does she say to this man, while she remembers that he has quickly developed slightly more than a crush on her? What does she say to this man, this man that she has to admit, she has more than a little crush on?

I sat down on the edge of my bed, rolling my cell phone over and over in my hands. I still had not put Taylor’s number in it, instead storing the little scrap of paper in my nightstand. I still didn’t want to form an attachment. Hell, I wasn’t even certain I wanted an attachment without a pending divorce; there was still Ezra. It wasn’t just my selfish desire to be number one either; Ezra deserved to have a woman in his father’s life that would dote on him, and love him, and accept with ease the he, rightfully, came first. I knew in my heart a father should never put a woman before his child, and I would never want it any other way.

Part of me debated marching myself back out to Taylor and informing him I had no problem sharing a friendship, that I thought he was a great guy, and I would be there for him through this divorce, but I couldn’t be his girlfriend. Not now, not ever, simply because I wasn’t ready to be a mom.

But I also knew I couldn’t hide in my bedroom forever, so with a final glance in the mirror at my tired appearance, I made my way slowly back into the living room. Taylor was sitting on the couch, talking quietly into his cell phone.

“Daddy will be home after you go to bed, Ezra,” I heard, Taylor’s voice bent low, his hair covering his face. The conversation was so intense, he didn’t seem to notice me approach. “I know, but you’ve got to listen to Mommy.” There was another short pause. “Ezra, please, I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise.” Pause. “Yes, I will. Do I ever break my promises to you?” Pause. “Ok, I love you too. Bye.” Taylor hung up the phone, jumping as he noticed me in the reflection of the TV.

“Sorry,” he said, running his fingers through his hair, nodding at the phone, “Natalie couldn’t get him to go to bed. I haven’t seen a lot of him lately,” he added on, placing the phone on my coffee table and leaning back into the couch cushions, kneading at his temples. “I just don’t know how to do this. Ezra makes it so hard.”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” I admitted, settling down next to him on the couch. He continued to knead his temples, his eyes closed tightly, hair mussed. My heart went out to him, obviously trying so hard to be a good father, while struggling with the end of his marriage. This was why I wasn’t getting married for a good, long time. But all the same, here was a beautiful man, full of heart, on my couch. So I did what any other sane woman would do; I let myself be taken over by the Florence Nightingale syndrome.

“C’mere,” I said quietly, tugging on his shirt-sleeve and pulling his head into my lap, slowly kneading my fingers across his scalp. He let loose a soft sound of contentment as I ran my fingers through his hair, letting my long nails trail on his skin. Watching him, I could feel my cheeks flush again, how adorable he seemed, how peaceful, with his cheek pressed to my thigh, his arms curled around me. Of course, his legs were squashed up against him, quite too long for my small couch, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“You know what really did it,” he began to mumble into my leg, his eyes still closed, “How I knew my marriage was over?” I didn’t say anything, figuring it was a rhetorical question and he was going to continue when he was ready. My silence fell back over us, his arms tightening around me, his body relaxing as his fingers began to softly stroke my leg. “I knew it was over when Natalie stopped doing the little things. It really is the little things that holds relationships together. When we first started dating, she did those things. If she knew I was stressed, she would massage my shoulders; if she knew I hadn’t eaten all day, she would show up with something. Just little things. And then I realized one day, she had stopped. And I realized I was doing things for her, only because I was concerned about the child growing inside her.” He sighed, hugging me as I remained silent, my hands gently working at the knots in his neck now. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you don’t want to hear this.”

“It’s fine,” I insisted, pausing in my massaging to turn his chin to face me. “It’s always been my rule that any guy I date is my friend as well as my significant other. If you need to talk about this, then I’m here.”

He smiled, his eyes bright as they stared up at me, his fingers reaching for my face, thumb lightly running along my lips, “Does that mean you’re willing to date me?”

I sighed, but found myself nodding in spite of all my doubts, all my fears. “I’ll be willing to try.” The smile that lit up his face was one I had rarely seen, and most often only on the faces of small children on Christmas. “You’re a great person, Taylor, but I’m serious when I say I want to go slow…” I trailed off, closing my eyes and leaning back as I continued to work on his aches, “I didn’t want to start things as quickly as we did. And I prefer if we kind of take a few steps back and let things… let the dust settle, you know?”

“Yeah, I understand,” he replied, still not opening his eyes. Instead, he curled up closer to me, burying his face in my stomach and wrapping his arms around my waist, completely using me as his pillow. “I can’t stay… I promised Ezra I’d be home when he woke up… but I just want to take a nap. I just want to sleep next to you. It’s been so long since I slept in someone’s arms. I miss that feeling.”

“As long as you promise me it’s sleep you’re missing,” I answered with hesitation. I had heard that line before, and quite a few times enough to know I wasn’t going to fall for it again.

His eyes snapped open, and found mine as he quickly sat up. “Look, Hales… I know you don’t want to talk about you. And that’s ok… for now. And I think I’m getting some of what you don’t want to tell me… but I’m not everyone else, ok? I say what I mean and I mean what I say.” His brows furrowed and he laughed, a deep, throaty chortle. “Ok, did you follow that?”

I laughed in spite of myself, loving the way his laughter just seemed to spill out over his lips, brushing in a gentle comfort against my cheeks. “Yeah,” I nodded, “I followed that.”

“Does that mean you’ll let me in your bed?” I nodded again and his broad grin reappeared. “Thank God. I can’t keep my legs all scrunched up like that!” He jumped up and stretched a glorious stretch, his finger tips nearly reaching my ceiling. But then he turned back to me, his Cheshire-cat grin right back where it had started, before he scooped me up into his arms and started for my bedroom. I protested at first, but promptly gave up. He wasn’t the only one who had been missing the feel of someone’s loving arms.

We curled into my bed, the blankets warm, our heads close together as we quietly whispered, teasing each other. I even remembered to set an alarm for the wee hours of the morning, terrified of being the cause of Taylor breaking a promise to his son. Ok, well, I set two alarms, and I made Taylor set his cell phone alarm. But with all the proper precautions in place, I let my head rest against his chest, and took perfect delight in the simple joy of his heartbeat, the steady, reliable rhythm that promised he wasn’t going anywhere.

6.

“Taylor!” I hissed sharply, shaking his shoulder, pushing against his back. He was sound asleep, and my alarm had gone off ten minutes ago. It was four A.M., and with Ezra liable to wake up anytime after six, Taylor needed to be getting up and out the door soon. I was terrified if I didn’t wake him up soon, I was going to promptly fall back asleep myself and then Ezra was waking up without his Daddy.

“Taylor!” I tried again, running my fingers through his hair, watching his face for any form of expression indicating he might be awake and just playing with me. But his features remained smooth and even as they had been, his chest rising steadily in the same deep pattern of breath. I sighed, leaning back against the wall and pulling the blankets up around me as I stared down at him. His hair was messily strewn across my pillows, rich charcoal fabric making his hair look even more angelic, his entire face the epitome of tranquility, his lips slightly parted as he breathed. It seemed such a shame to wake someone so beautiful, this picture so perfect I wished I had the ability to recall it for a painter’s brush.

I paused in my efforts, gently running my fingers through his hair, loving how silky the strands felt in my fingertips. For some reason, I began to recall all his various appearances at my job, how I had always lusted after him so much. He was a beautiful man, there was no denying it, but for some reason, I was a sucker for this sort of beauty. True, he looked great in a fitted tee and those expensive jeans he favored, or a white button-down exposed a gorgeously toned chest and shoulders, there was something entirely different about his bare chest nestled down in my sheets, the natural curves and lines in his arms and shoulders, one arm flung above his head, the other resting on his chest.

“Taylor!” I finally insisted again, giving him a thorough shake. At that, he finally started, blinking his eyes furiously as he looked up at me. “Huh?”

“It’s nearly four-thirty. You’ve got to get up.”

“Mmm, in a few minutes,” he mumbled, cuddling up to me and wrapping his arms around my legs, nuzzling up to my waist, gentle kisses falling against any exposed flesh he found. I couldn’t help but giggle as his lips found tender spots, tickling as they softly slipped over my skin.

But I knew if I let it continue, I would never get him out of my apartment, so it was with great difficulty I slid out of bed, walking around to yank the sheet back from him. He shivered in the sudden cold, sitting up and pouting as he reached down on the floor for his jeans and tee. “That wasn’t nice,” he mumbled, lower lip completely jut out. “I was really comfy.”

“I’m sure your bed at home is just as comfy,” I teased back, planting a soft kiss on his cheek and sitting next to him on the edge of the bed as he pulled his socks back on.

“Yeah. My bed.” He gave a wry laugh, attempting to adjust his hair as he sat back up. “Remember? Me? Couch? We’re good friends these days. The couch doesn’t much like my feet though, so those just hang off the end.” There was a sullenness in his words that I knew he hadn’t meant for, but slid out anyway. I had to wonder when the last time he had slept in his own bed had been. Judging from how bitter he seemed when he spoke, I was guessing quite some time. But he did his best to put a fake smile on his face as he turned to me, gently brushing my dark hair away from my pale eyes. “I’ll be back soon,” he whispered, leaning forward to meet my lips with his. I could have melted right there in that instant, the only light those from outside, and his arms meandering their away around my shoulders. The kiss was delicious, but it was his genuine smile as he pulled away that really tugged my heart strings.

“C’mon,” I said after a moment, a content smile finding a home across my lips. “I’ll walk you down.”

“You don’t have to do that. It’s freezing. Get back in bed,” he insisted, making shooing motions with his hands as I tried to stand to accompany him. But he couldn’t help himself, leaning down for another kiss, taking me into his arms once more.

“Ha. Fat chance.” He gave me a faux look of warning as I stood up, grabbing my coat and the sweat-pants I had been wearing earlier to cover my boy-shorts. “One, this is New York, and that door will be locked before I go back to sleep. Two, it’s been… a night… and I’d enjoy a cigarette before I go back to sleep.”

He smiled begrudgingly and helped me into my fluffy coat, the one I reserved for very cold nights only, as it made me look like an over-weight Eskimo, a feeling I quickly informed Taylor of as I grabbed my keys and cigarettes, shoving my feet into sneakers without socks. “I think you look cute,” he replied, planting a kiss on the tip of my nose as I gave him a dirty look. “What? It’s an Eskimo thing, with the nose!”

I laughed, but stopped him, leaning my face close to his. “Eskimo kisses aren’t a kiss on the nose!” I protested, giggling as I got closer, “Eskimo kisses are when you rub your noses together. Like this,” I informed him, rubbing my chilly nose up against his, giggling like mad the entire time. I was making a complete fool out of myself now, but it was worth it to see how happy it made Taylor. After the melancholy he had displayed earlier, any sign of delight was enough for me.

So it was that we shared a cigarette and said good-night to one another, or good-morning, and made promises to see each other soon. I promptly returned to my bed, savoring the smell of his shampoo and cologne on my sheets as I fell back into an easy sleep, the knowledge of a day off from work ahead of me, and a beautiful night behind.

A few days later, things weren’t quite so chummy. I had been at work for hours already, and I was not having a good run with it. We had hired a new server, Tara, a transfer from Long Island having moved to the city for school. She was a freshmen as NYU, and one of those variety whose parents had obviously spoiled rotten most of her life. Why on earth she had a job now, I didn’t understand, but if I had to listen to her whine about how stupid the job was once more, she was going to find my foot promptly shoved up her ass.

By late afternoon, I found myself bored. We hadn’t yet gotten our rush of post-Christmas shoppers, and with Christmas now less than a week away, I knew it was going to be busy. I was looking forward to the rush if nothing else than to shut up Tara’s incessant babbling about the Hamptons and Long Island and how filthy the city was. I knew the city was as dirty as every other New Yorker, but the city was home, and I couldn’t stand to hear people from outside trash her so much.

Shelly and I were leaned up against the front counter, hands in our palms, idly watching the crowds go by. Neither of us had much of anything to do, and our boss had taken off for a more exotic locale with the holiday season upon us. My one and only table had their meals, and now it was just me and the people-watching.

“Hey, whatever happened with Mr. Gorgeous that night? You never told me,” Shelly commented, turning to me with a face full of excitement. Yeah, I thought to myself, groaning and flushing deeply, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to listen to it. “Well?”

“Well what? Shelly, sometimes… I could just… ugh!” I finally spit out in frustration, throwing up my hands. “It was fine, really. Sam got all pissed off when I went with Taylor over him and we went back to my apartment and…”

“Back to your apartment? You bad, bad girl!” Shelly cut in, slapping me playfully on the shoulder. She giggled as I continued to flush brightly, protesting all the while.

“Anyway,” I continued, trying hard to keep the growing annoyance out of my voice, “We sat around and talked for a while, then took a nap.” I paused, shooting Shelly the sternest look I could muster, “Just a nap. And then he went home around four-thirty, so he could be there when his son woke up.”

“That’s adorable.” Shelly continued to joke and poke fun at me, and I did my best to drown her out. But like everything else that day, things were not meant to go my way. The new girl, my new best friend Tara, had heard our conversation and decided she was bored enough to make it her business.

“Who are you talking about?” she more demanded than asked, leaning up against the counter on my other side. She snapped her gum loudly as she glanced at me expectantly, straightened red hair flowing from her ponytail in luxurious strands. I had to give her that she beautiful, but I was sure she spent hours in front of the mirror to achieve that hair and makeup. Personally, I wasn’t giving up that kind of sleep to look that put together every day.

“Haley’s boyfriend!” Shelly announced gleefully, clapping her hands together like a cheerleader. “Haley’s dating this guy that used to come in here all the time with his wife and son, but now they’re getting divorced and he’s totally into her. And he’s gorgeous and…”

“Ok,” I cut in, shooting Shelly yet another nasty glare. I didn’t like this Tara girl all too much, granted first impressions and all, but she was not impressing me by butting into my social life. I put the most frozen, polite smile on my face as I could manage, before adding on, “I’m not sure he’s my boyfriend. We’re just sort of dating. And I’m a bit of the private side, so if you don’t mind…”

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes at me, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder, where it swayed from the high elastic holding it, “Just trying to be friendly, but whatever floats your boat, sweetie.” I bristled at the condescending tone and the implication that I was being rude. Who was this girl?

“Hey, well, he’s here, so you can meet him,” Shelly said after a few long moments of Tara and I staring each other done. And to my absolute horror, there was Taylor, trying to open the double glass doors with two cups of Starbucks in his hands.

“Hey, Hales,” he greeted me after wrestling the door into his control. He grinned his beautiful grin and offered me a peck on the cheek, holding out one of the cups, artfully decorated with snowflakes on a red background. I loved the Starbucks holiday cups and eagerly sought out the black marker to see what the lovely man had brought me. “It’s a caramel apple-cider,” he added on, watching me with an amused expression, “You said you can’t sleep if you drink a lot of caffeine too late so…”

“Thank you,” I replied, leaning over the counter to reward his thoughtfulness with a slow, sweet kiss. “What made you decide to stop by?”

“Out for a walk.” He shrugged, holding out his cup, “You know me and the coffee. Addict. And I missed you, so I figured I’d stop by. And I figured if I brought you some delicious beverage refreshment, I would get to see that adorable smile of yours.”

I flushed bright red at the comments, glancing back over my shoulder at Shelly, who was doing her very best to hide her giggles behind her fingers. But Tara, Tara was staring at Taylor like she had seen a ghost, her entire face white as a sheet. Looking down, I saw her hands were trembling slightly. Puzzled, I nudged her with my elbow, jolting her to stare at me now. Greatly puzzled, I look quizzically at Taylor, but he was now staring at Tara, very much deer-in-the-headlights. What the fuck, I thought to myself, oh shit, please don’t tell me they’re exes or something.

“Have you two… met?” I asked after a moment, looking more to Tara and her pallor than Taylor and his odd expression.

“Never,” she gulped out after a long pause. Her eyes were still fixated on Taylor, not even blinking. She looked from me to him and shoved her hands into her pockets, licking her lips nervously, “This is… this is the guy you’re dating?” she asked after another pause, her eyes once again fixated on Taylor’s face.

“Yeah,” I replied quickly, moving defensively towards him. True, I had been hesitant on beginning to date Mr. Gorgeous, but now that I had him, I sure as hell wasn’t giving him up to little miss rich girl from Long Island, no matter what creepy thing was going on between them. I was certain she was lying about having never met him, otherwise, why would she act so bizarrely? I made a strong mental note to ask him about it later, when she wasn’t gawking at us. Another glance from me to Shelly intervened, and she did me the favor of removing Tara to another part of the store while Taylor shook his head, staring into his coffee as if he were going to magically read the tea leaves that weren’t there.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said after an awkward pause. “She’s new and a little… off. Been driving me nuts all day,” I added on, putting a fake pout on my lips, “I might need someone to make it better.”

He chuckled, his strange expression quickly gone and his cheer returning, “Well, I need to do some Christmas shopping still. What time are you getting our of here tonight?”

“Um, supposedly around eight, so anywhere from eight-thirty to nine,” I replied, reaching across the counter and grasping his fingers in mine. They were pleasantly warm from carrying the hot beverages. I took a sip out of mine as he replied, quickly delighting, “And you even remembered I don’t like whipped cream on this one! You’re the best!” He gave me an indulgent grin before continuing, “Well, how about I meet you back here at eight-thirty? Or your apartment at nine?”

“I’m going to say nine at my place. That way if I get out of here on time, I can sneak in a shower before you come over. I know there’s nothing more appealing than French-fry stench and grease, but I prefer to be clean,” I joked, tugging on my heavily soiled apron to prove my point; it was spattered with ketchup, salad dressing and ice-cream, shiny spots of grease coating a good chunk of my shirt as well.

“You know you’re always beautiful,” he returned, reaching forward and tucking one of the strands of dark hair behind my ear, “And don’t you go telling me you’re not, cause I’m not going to listen,” he tacked on, putting one finger up to my lips before I could open my mouth. I couldn’t help but be touched; it was such a corny thing to say, but somehow, he made it beautiful and sweet.

Yeah, I was falling pretty fast and pretty hard.

“Oh,” he started again, his grin reaching into his eyes and putting a twinkle in the gentle night’s sky, “If you’re not busy this weekend, my brothers and I are doing our little Christmas thing for Ezra. I’d really like it if you would come.”

“Um…” I bit my lip, hating how his face fell the minute I hesitated, “Well, it’s just… I’m assuming Natalie’s going to be there. I mean, she is Ezra’s mom, and he’s so little that I would just think… Christmas is about family and…” I trailed off and shrugged, not even knowing what to say. I had known something like this was coming, and I had told myself I would go and make Taylor happy and see the adorable little boy I couldn’t help but save a soft spot in my heart for. But the thought of Natalie glaring at me through the entire evening was more than I cared to deal with.

“She is going to be there, but…” He heaved a heavy sigh, trying hard to hide how his face had promptly fallen from its previous glowing delight to a stormy cloud. “We’ll talk about it tonight. I think it will work, and Ezra loves you.” He put on a fake smile, something that only made me feel guilty for ruining his good mood, offering up another slow, meandering kiss before he started for the door. “Christmas shopping time!” he called with mock-cheer, blowing another kiss before breezing out the door, leaving me with a heavy heart and a delicious caramel apple cider.

I shuffled back to the rear of the store, where Shelly was waiting and Tara was whispering into her cell-phone, whatever she was saying inaudible, but whatever it was, she looked pretty distressed and excited at the same time. I rolled my eyes in her general direction before turning to Shelly. “Well?”

“He’s coming over tonight after I get out of here. We need to talk about Christmas… he wants me to come with him to his brother’s, cause they’re doing this thing for Ezra… but Natalie’s going to be there and I just don’t… I don’t want to do that.” The words had rushed out before I could stop myself and I found it peculiar that Tara looked up both at the names “Ezra” and “Natalie”; I was really going to have to drill Taylor about this girl tonight. She seemed to know way too much, or recognize way too much, about him and his own that told me she knew him. There was no other explanation.

“I think you should go,” Shelly informed me matter-of-factly, “Go show that bitch Natalie that Taylor’s yours now.”

“It’s not so much Natalie, who isn’t a bitch. It’s more about Ezra… I’m not his mom, and I don’t want to take that away from Natalie, not now, not ever. And I don’t want her to think I’m trying to. She knows she can’t have Taylor anymore, but that’s different and…” I trailed off, having promptly confused myself with my rambling. All I could really do was sigh once more, and walk back out onto the floor to finish off my table, wishing for the madness that was soon to come and distract me from the gnawing fear in the pit of my stomach… and the strangling curiosity of what was up with this Tara girl. But resolving there was nothing I could do about it until I talked to Taylor later that night, I did my best to shove it to the back of my mind and simply enjoy the treat he had brought me, to enjoy that for no reason at all, he had stopped by with a small gift and a beautiful smile.

7.

Much to my delight, I managed to get out of work at exactly eight, though it involved some heavy running-around, which left me sweating profusely. So instead of taking the twenty minute walk, I grabbed a cab and got myself home in five minutes, which left plenty of time for the luxury of a hot shower and a quick cleaning of my semi-trashed apartment. I mean, ok, what working college student has the time to be neat, never mind the energy, but I didn’t need Mr. Gorgeous to see my three-day-old pasta dishes, or the coffee that had turned to mud in the span of forty-eight hours left to mind itself in the Mr. Coffee. In any case, I wasn’t prepared for that sort of humiliation just quite yet; I had just started dating(?) the guy.

Which meant I couldn’t just let it be with a pair of grungy sweatpants usually reserved for jogging or the gym, and an equally filthy, paint-splattered wife-beater. So I actually put on a pair of jeans and a warm, gorgeously soft sweater, swept the faintest amount of make-up over my eyes, and gee, brushed my hair. This was about the time is occurred to me I hadn’t eaten that day, and I was starving. Mr. Gorgeous on his way or not, this girl needed something more than yogurt or a banana, so it was a phone call to the local pizza place and the prayer Taylor liked white pizza.

He beat the pizza boy to my stoop, his blond hair shining in the light as I kept watch. I hated how my heart leapt at the sight of him, trying to remind myself I had to be stern, find out what was up with that Tara girl, and put my foot down about the weekend and Natalie. So I did my best to stay a little distant, offering a quick peck on the cheek as we took a seat on the stairs to share a cigarette and wait for the pizza boy, due any minute.

“How was the rest of your day?” he asked cheerfully, wrapping one arm protectively around me as I shivered in the cold, “Go alright?”

“Yeah, it went alright.” I gave him my tight smile, elaborating, “It got busier and I made good money, so it turned out ok. Get all your shopping done?”

“Almost.” There was a mischievous look about him as I met his gaze, but he quickly turned away, his attention on the glowing ember falling to one side of the tobacco. He received a sharp, though playful, jab to the ribs from my elbow, his laughter merry as he glanced back at me, “What?”

“What have you got planned?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“No, it’s really nothing.”

I eyed him suspiciously, entirely unconvinced, “Bullshit, you’ve got something face, I can tell.” At that he started laughing all over again, spitting out the smoke he had been about to inhale, “Something face, huh?”

“Yes,” I replied mock-defensively, glaring back at him in protest, “Something face.”

“What the hell is something face?”

“It’s that look you’ve got. That there’s something!” I huffed, trying to shrug his arm off my shoulders, while giggling and cuddling closer to him at the same time. “I think it might end easier for you if you just tell me what is, otherwise you’re going to find yourself alone out here on this stoop.”

“Well, if you go inside, I’ll have pizza to myself,” he responded with a smug grin, grinding his cigarette into the sidewalk. He flashed another irresistible grin, leaning forward to attempt to kiss me, but pulled back as the delivery man stopped in front of my apartment. So, with pizza in hand, we made our way up the stairs and back into my apartment. It was about then that I noticed he had a small black bag with him, which I couldn’t help but eye suspiciously as he set it down next to the door.

“What’s that?” I asked, nodding towards the black lump. He began to flush at the question and resumed his nervous habit of running his fingers through his hair, sheepish grin back in full-form. “Um, well, it’s… being prepared.”

“For what?” I giggled, turning from the cabinets and depositing paper plates on my small dining table. “Is New York about to get attacked by aliens? Is the war of the worlds coming?”

“Ha ha, very funny,” he smirked in return, taking a seat. But his face tightened into a more serious expression as he cleared his throat, “Well, um, it’s more like, if I stay here tonight, I would really like to brush my teeth in the morning and put on clean underwear.” The seriousness of his features made me want to die in laughter as I realized it was nothing more than his version of an overnight bag, but his discomfort made it all the easier for me to be the prankster.

“And what made you think I was letting you stay tonight,” I shot back, chilling my voice and hardening my features, “I mean, what, you think you can just stay here when ever you want, that this is hotel Haley?” I had to turn around to the fridge, on pretense of getting a bottle of water, to hide my smile. I wasn’t going to let this go on long, but for the moment, it was funny.

“Um,” he stammered, obviously startled at my reply, his eyes clouded and focused on the table as I spun back around. “Well, I… you’ve let me stay before, and Ezra’s with my brother tonight and I told Natalie I was with them so I just figured… I mean…” The pathetic nature his voice had taken on, and the genuine sadness his voice seemed to hold, made it too much for me to keep up the charade, plopping myself down on his lap and grinning madly, “I was kidding. Of course you can stay,” I whispered in his ear, offering the lightness of a few teasing kissing before taking my own seat and, in an extremely lady-like manner, proceeded to devour half a pizza. Taylor watched with hints of amusement on his features, but he himself managed to finish off the other half of the pizza.

Being the oh-so-exciting maybe couple that we were, from the pizza it was to the couch we moved, flipping through the channels until we came to re-runs we could bother endure. But neither of us were paying the TV much mind, so much so that I eventually turned it off. Now here I was, comfortably curled in his arms, breathing in his cologne in relaxed, deep breaths, and the problems I had been turning over in my mind wouldn’t quiet themselves any longer. So I pulled myself into a sitting position, still holding Taylor’s fingers entwined in mine, and did my best to capture his gaze. It didn’t make it any easier as he smiled that contented, sleepy smile of his, closing his eyes and leaning back into the cushions.

“Taylor,” I began quietly, hoping he would open his eyes and look at me, but he remained where he was, answering me with the faintest murmur of acknowledgement. With a sigh, I gave up and swallowed my fear, pressing onward with what I felt was the lesser evil of my worries, “When you came into work today you… Tara… you guys said you’ve never met, but she got so fucking weird when you showed up. And you kind of did too.” He hadn’t moved at first, but he slowly sat up, a perplexed look on his face that suddenly turned to the same sort of shocked horror I had seen in the restaurant as he must have remembered what had happened.

“I swear to you, Hales, I have no idea who that girl is, and I really never have met her before,” he stammered out, giving my hands a tight squeeze, “I mean, maybe she’s got me confused with someone else.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped, becoming angry. That explanation would have been fine and good, if it hadn’t been for Taylor’s strange behavior as well. But instead of getting angry back, he pulled himself into a very formal sitting position and became very serious.

“Alright, you don’t want me to lie to you, and I don’t want to either.” He paused, and the seriousness he was displaying worried me. Was this girl the mother of his illegitimate child? Had he sold crack to her years ago? Was she a whore he had been in the habit of going to, not that I could see why he needed to pay for sex under any circumstance. “Hales, just… promise me you’ll hear me all the way out on this, just promise me you’ll let me finish.” I nodded after a slight pause, uneasy at the way he was behaving. Obviously there was some horrible big-bad he was about to share with me, but I couldn’t fathom what it had to do with Tara.

“Do you remember the band ‘Hanson’?” he finally asked, staring down at where our hands were entwined in his lap, “Back in 1997?”

“That god-awful song ‘MmmBop’, right?” I tried to picture the band, the blond-haired kids everyone thought were actually girls. Taylor cringed at my comment, his eyes finally meeting mine, and it was in that moment it slammed into me, the deep blue of his eyes, the long blond hair, the flush of his pale cheeks, the brothers, Tara’s weird actions… she had recognized him. She was a fan. “Oh, God,” I whispered, staring at him in wonder as he played with our hands. I didn’t even know where to begin.

He cleared his throat and watched as I slowly tried very hard to digest what he was telling me. This was Taylor Hanson, and he was a famous musician and I had been dating him for weeks, waiting on him for months, without realizing who he was; he never used a credit card, always paid in cash, and had not told me his last name, nor had I been in his apartment to see it on his mail or anything else. I felt at once immensely stupid and immensely frightened I was going to lose this wonderful man that I had simply known as ‘Taylor’.

“I, um… oh…” I laughed nervously, my own gaze falling to where our hands were still locked tightly together, “I’m sorry I called your song awful,” I finally managed to say, and though I hadn’t realized it when I said it, the little comment was all we needed to break the tension. His laughter came easily as he shook his head, admitting the song had been overplayed and he himself didn’t care to listen to that version anymore.

“So, you’re, um, you’re ok, with that?” he asked after a long moment of awkwardness had fallen over us again, the joking masking the seriousness of this discovery.

“Yeah, I mean, it doesn’t change… it doesn’t change anything between us, right?” I cuddled back up to him as he vehemently shook his head, putting a kiss on my forehead.

“Well, I’ve always known who I am, so I’m not going anywhere,” he said after a moment, pulling back enough so his lips neared mine, his fingers releasing mine only to entangle themselves in my hair. “It’s just a matter of… if you’re ok… with this… lifestyle… being mixed with yours.”

Puzzled for a moment, I quickly understood what he meant. Long absences, weird situations like the one with Tara, an extra bit of scrutiny from the public on my life. But I didn’t think it would matter quite so much; in all of our time together, there had been no rabid psycho coming up to us in public, demanding an autograph or picture; in fact, the only things I could remember were the occasional odd glances of waitresses.

So we didn’t bother much with words, but let our mouths solve the problem, exchanging lush kisses that made my knees shake. I kept telling myself, only one more kiss, and then we’ll discuss the weekend, but Taylor had me in my bed, seductively removing my clothes, long before I admitted I had lost all will-power against his touch. Trapped safely in the confines of soft sheets, Taylor’s body moving over mine is maddeningly slow precision, I gave up all intentions of argument for the sake of bodily pleasure, for the touch of his powerful hands, or the feel of his satin hair in my own fingers. There was no conversation, only the insistence of our bodies, the hell with taking things slowly, the hell with waiting for anything, we wanted everything and we wanted it now. I couldn’t help that I had fallen for a married man anymore than he could help his marriage ending or having a son or the way any of it turned out. What he could help was the tremendous relief of tension between us as we spent hours tangling the sheets, mostly enjoying the slow sensual nature of our romp, the feel of lips on flesh, the softness of his belly pressed tightly to mine.

Exhausted, we finally lay still in my bed, curled close to each other, our foreheads nearly touching as we whispered softly to each other. It all seemed so sweet and lovely, the sort of thing you dream about as a little girl; you get to date the rock star, only you didn’t know he was a rock star, which makes it that much sweeter. Because not only is he the rock star, he is the most fabulous man you’ve ever met in your life… with the slight caveat that he’s married and has a child. And well… you never wanted kids. And you definitely never wanted someone else’s kid on Christmas, with them glaring at you the whole time.

So in the tender silence and comfort, with Taylor completely relaxed and nearly asleep, it was definitely the best time to bring up the impending doom, er, weekend. “Um, Taylor,” I started slowly, still running my fingers across his chest, “About this thing with Ezra.”

“I told you, it’ll be fine.” He kissed the top of my forehead gently, drawing me closer while I gnawed on my bottom lip, “My brothers are going to be there and if Natalie even tries to bother you, they’ll take my side. Which is your side.”

“Who’s on Ezra’s side?” I snapped back, much quicker than I had meant for the words to come out. Great way to ruin things, Haley. This would be why you can never hold on to a decent man. You don’t know when to keep your damn mouth shut.

Taylor shot up into a sitting position quickly enough I nearly hit my head against the headboard, his arms folding tightly across his chest. He was glaring at me when my eyes finally met his, “Tell me you did not just imply that I’m not taking care of my son.”

I sighed, wishing I had a nice little rewind button, or even the “easy” button they were now showing in some stupid commercial. But no, I only had the incompetent brain that had led me to say what I had said in the first place. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… I don’t know what you meant.”

“I think you did,” he glowered, reaching down on the floor for his clothes and yanking them on sharply, his back to me the entire time. “You meant that I care more about some new fling than my child. Here’s proving you wrong,” he snapped over his shoulder, jerking his shirt over his head and making for the door.

I flung on my robe, making it to the door right as his hand hit the knob. “Taylor, wait, please.” His eyes met mine and I shuddered at the sight of his fury, the brightness of the rage burning across his features, “Taylor, I mean it, just… wait, ok?”

“I refuse to let… some… some…” He sneered at me without finishing, making an obvious show of giving me a once-over before he turned away in disgust. “You are not worth what I thought you were.”

My shoulders sagged as soon as the breadth of his words hit me. Here we go again, I thought miserably, dropping my hand from the door knob, instead pulling my robe more tightly around me. A couple of great moments, some sweet promises, I say something stupid, and off he goes. “I’m sorry,” was all I managed to mumble, taking one last quick glance at his face as he reached for the door knob. For a second, it looked like he might relent, his features softening towards me, but it was nothing more than a glimmer of hope. Seconds later, he snatched his bag and was gone with the resounding slam of my door cutting off the first, and only, excruciating sob to escape my lips.

And me? I just did what I always did. I fumbled my way into my bathroom, self-medicated from one of a dozen orange bottles and fell into a sleep-filled stupor so thick, I never heard the phone ring.

8.

Needless to say, I was a bit of an emotional wreck by the time I found myself at work two days later. The drugs I had taken the again night before to sleep hadn’t exactly worn off, nor had the intense swirl of thoughts in my head. It was still dumb-founding that I had been dating Taylor Hanson and not even known who he was. Was I somehow completely incompetent? But beyond that, I had been dating an amazing man, I had been willing to try and work with the whole kid thing, even though I didn’t want my own. But, being the smart girl that I am, I picked exactly the wrong moment, and exactly the wrong words, to express my concern at playing mom to someone else’s kid.

“Rough night?” Shelly greeted me with a grin, giving me a playful elbow. “Someone keep you up all night?” I shrugged, gnawing my lip and deciding once again to not let her in on what had happened. I loved Shelly, but I would consider her a co-worker way before a friend. And the way things seemed to get around that place… and the fact that Tara knew who Taylor really was… made me all the more nervous. So I ignored Shelly and went off to find Mike and weasel my way into a double-section or some other version of throwing myself into my work. Maybe if I had a good night, I would invest in some heavy retail therapy and pick up that Coach bag I had been eyeing for weeks.

I went into the back of the store, knocking quietly on the office door. Mike opened it with a grin, “Hi ho-bag. What can I do for you?” He got a laugh out of me, for which I was grateful, and opened the door wider, allowing me into the cramped space. “C’mon, tell Mikey what’s wrong.”

I shook my head at him, unable to contain my grin. This is why I loved my job. I worked with fantastic people who after years together, could read me like a book. Who would think being called “hoe-bag” by your manager would make you feel better?

“Mike, look, you know how… well I just had a shitty night and I’d love it if you’d let me have a double-section and work off my frustration.”

His face scrunched up in apprehension, “Hales, you know I know you can handle all your tables without a problem. But… that new rl… red-head, kind of a bitch, what’s her name?”

“Tara.”

“Yeah, her, Tara, she was complaining that you got a double section the other night and she didn’t. I told her I would try and give her one tonight.” He sighed heavily, beginning to recount the money he had out, filling cash drawers and balancing the books before the dinner rush. “I’ve got to be fair.”

I sat boiling as he told me this, clutching my apron tightly in my fists and hoping my face wasn’t betraying my utter contempt for this girl. “Mike, why don’t you just tell her it’s a matter of seniority? I’ve been here for three years, and she’s been here for a week. I can run circles around her.”

“I know that. Jim knows that. But she’s the type who… it’s my shift, Haley, and I’ve got to be fair. I don’t want to deal with petty bullshit. It’s a Thursday night. Let her have the sections tonight, you’ll get them tomorrow, when it’s going to be busier anyway. C’mon, it’s supposed to be freezing rain within the hour. It’s going to be dead.” He gave me a pleading grin and I sighed, knowing there was little he could do. I made a mental note to catch Jim, my actual boss, when he walked in the door and have a word with him about little miss bitch.

Tara wasn’t there yet, so I didn’t have to quite do the walk of shame back onto the floor as I punched in and tied my apron on. Shelly was eyeing my still as I set to work, making sure everything was in order and making small talk with some of the other girls as we idled around. Three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon wasn’t the busiest time, right before Christmas, with the impending nasty weather, which I despised for the fact that Shelly had a lot of time to give me curious after more curious looks.

The one stroke of luck in my day was that Jim showed up ten minutes before Tara was scheduled in. I followed him into the back, Mike now firmly planted in the front of the restaurant, chiding one server after another to pick up a straw wrapper, or a crayon, or something.

“What’s up?” he asked as I followed, unlocking the office door and taking off his coat. Jim was the sort of boss that could be more than just a hard-ass, but for the employees that did their job, he could be a wonderful guy. He rewarded good work, but flayed the lazy alive.

“Um, well, that Tara girl is bitching about my double section and so Mike’s taking it away and giving it to her. And… I just…” I shrugged, hating that I was going over Mike’s head. It felt like the ultimate betrayal and I knew he was going to be angry.

“He what?” Jim turned around from where he was hanging his coat and frowned. “She doesn’t deserve one section alone. That girl can’t stop bringing out the wrong food and she’s worked here for a week.” He rolled his eyes and took a seat at his desk, making a few clicks on the keyboard before looking up at me again. “I’ll take care of it.”

I offered my thanks and went back out on the floor, grinning my mini victory, that was, until Mike’s steely glare let me know he knew exactly what I was up to. But I ignored him too, like everyone else really, and went about my business, ducking out the back door for a cigarette. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sounds of someone else crashing out the back door, and there was Shelly, her eyes glowing in anticipation. “Ok, I know you’re not telling anyone really, but it’s me. What’s going on?”

I sighed, making a motion for her to go away. When she didn’t, I gave up. I wasn’t going to be hounded all night. “If I tell you, you’ve got to promise to leave me be tonight,” I informed her, inhaling deeply on my cigarette. She nodded and leaned up against the bricks and turning toward her, “Taylor and I had a bit of a disagreement. I said something about his son I shouldn’t have and he took it extremely hard and I haven’t heard from him in a few days.” In a strange way, telling at least one person was making me feel a whole lot better. “So, I don’t think we’re dating anymore, and I guess I was just… a little more attached to him than I let myself believe. That’s all. Simple boy trouble.”

“What the hell did you say?”

“I don’t even remember, honestly, it was so stupid.” I shrugged again, glancing up toward the sky, which looked murky as dirty dishwater. The chill in the air was just another hint that the weather was going to be nasty. Maybe Mike had been right. Maybe I should have just let Tara fall on her face that night, with barely any customers, and rejoiced in watching her fail. But now I had pissed off Mike, and I was certain Tara was going to pitch a fit. In fact, maybe she was in there right now, screaming at Mike, while I enjoyed my nicotine fix.

I really did need to learn when to keep my mouth shut.

“Well, if it was that stupid, I’m sure he’ll be back. You guys were way too cute to not work.” Shelly giggled and ran back inside, while I remained glowering. If she only knew the whole story. Not to mention, it didn’t matter how cute we were, I had offended him in a way that didn’t seem to allow for mending.

Once inside, sure enough, Tara was arguing with Mike and Jim, her face bright red, red enough to make her hair look pale. Hoping to steer clear of an outright bitch fight, I tried to make myself scarce and find things to occupy myself, hoping my tables weren’t feeling harassed as I checked on them over and over. But with the ice beginning to fall from the sky, I quickly ran out of things to do and Tara cornered me.

“So it’s enough for you to break up a marriage but now you have to ruin my job too?” she accused, jabbing her finger at me as I stood in the service aisle playfully fighting with one of the cooks. Stunned at the forcefulness of her accusation, I merely stared at her dumbly. “Excuse me?”

She laughed a caustic laugh, her eyes dark and angry, “You broke up Taylor’s marriage, you slut. What the fuck is wrong with you? He was married, he was happy. Go find some other rich boy to mooch off of.”

I bristled as she spoke, using my utmost resolve not to slap her. This was about when Shelly walked into the service aisle, leaning up against the counter and listening, an anxious look about her. She had seen me lose my temper before, and this girl was setting herself up for it real quick. “Tara, you don’t know me and you certainly don’t know Taylor. I don’t know what you think you know about him, or Natalie, or me, or anyone, but I didn’t even know who he was when we started dating. You can ask anyone here, he approached me.” I stopped, gritting my teeth together and clenching my fists. Must not lose temper, I repeated to myself, must not make Jim or Mike angry.

Tara was laughing her evil little laugh in my face again, but Shelly had moved closer, looking very confused. “How stupid do you think I am? I recognized Taylor Hanson the moment I saw him!”

“Hanson?” Shelly finally spoke up, staring at me strangely. “What the fuck are you talking about Tara? That guy came in here with his wife and kid for the last six months.”

“And his name is Taylor Hanson. His wife’s name in Natalie. His son’s name is Ezra. His brothers are Zac and Isaac. And they moved to New York a few years ago. They’re originally from Tulsa, which is why Taylor has such a strange accent. He married Natalie almost five years ago, right before they had Ezra. Which makes Halley a fucking home-wrecker and a gold digger,” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “I mean, what, it’s not enough to mooch off a famous musician but now you’ve got to take my tables too?”

Shelly stepped between us, firmly planting her feet and staring Tara down. I could hear the guys in the kitchen cheering on the “bitch-fight” and I was hoping that Mike wasn’t about to come and witness. I didn’t need a write-up, though it would have pleased me greatly to earn Tara one. “Look, you’re new. You don’t know any of us, and you’re not making a good impression. Halley didn’t know who this Taylor guy was. She didn’t even know his name until he went through a lot of effort to date her. And regardless, it’s none of your damn business.” Shelly turned to glance at me, offering a weak smile before turning to Tara again, “Not to mention, Hales gets a double section because she’s the best waitress in the place, and she’s worked here longer than any of us. Speaking of, one of your tables is complaining to Mike right now that they haven’t seen their waitress in forever, so you might want to spend less time running your mouth and more time doing your job.”

Tara stood with her arms limply at her sides, her wide green eyes flabbergasted as she glanced from one to the other. Shelly and I promptly went back to our conversation with the cooks, ignoring Tara and her fish-like sputtering. And then we had our finest moment, as Mike walked in and saw her standing around idly; he was promptly reaming her out while Shelly and I tried to hide our giggles. As soon as Tara was gone though, Shelly turned to me with a more serious look about her. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“Who he was.”

“Oh.” I sighed and put my hands on the top of my head, my arms flopping to the sides as I glanced at her. “The first part of that argument was me asking him about Tara, cause they were acting so weird when he stopped by. And then he told me.” I shrugged. “I’ve known for a few days, and honestly, I was sort of expecting something like that from Tara. I remember Hanson fans being pretty rabid when they first came out, the whole girls suffocating and being carted away in ambulances and shit like that.”

“Still. You didn’t break up their marriage,” Shelly insisted, putting one hand on my shoulder and giving me a quick squeeze. “He went after you, ok? And things were fine for a while… he’s just going through a lot, Hales. A divorce is hard. He’ll be back.”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, turning to glance at Mike as he called my name. He informed me I had a new table, and with that, the evening rush began. Even with the layer of ice quickly accumulating on the sidewalk outside, people were still coming out in droves, most laden with brightly colored bags of every size and shape. So the issue was lost, I stayed away from Tara, and Mike watched the entire night unfold without a complaint against me.

Around ten, it pretty much died off. Tara had already left, without so much as a glance at me, and it was just me and another girl, Ashley, finishing up our tables, while Mike sat in the office doing more paper work. It seemed like the night was finally going to end well; I had made enough money that I could more than easily treat myself to the Coach bag, Mike and Jim had taken my side in the Tara matter, and I had spent a good four hours not thinking about Taylor. Yet the stillness of my thoughts and ease was quickly broken as a little blond boy came running through the double doors, shouting “Haley!” as he ran up to me.

I couldn’t help but show the little boy my usual affection, regardless of how things were between his father and myself; none of it was even close to his fault. So I hauled him up into my arms, giving him a little bounce on my hip as he giggled. “Where’s your Daddy?” I asked, smoothing down the hood of his bright red jacket, “You aren’t out all by yourself, are you?”

“Nope! Daddy’s outside,” he told me, pointing sharply toward the door. Sure enough, I could make out a tall blond clad in a black leather jacket, the tell-tale whiff of smoke rising from around him as he huddled under the awning. “Can I have ice cream?”

“Of course you can!” He made me laugh in his innocence, resting his head on my shoulder as I carried him back to where the ice cream was. I had no idea why he was here, or why his father was keeping him out so late, but the little boy was full of exuberance, demanding “the green ice cream” and at least one of every candy. Ashley walked by smiling, wagging her fingers at Ezra, who quickly became shy enough to hide his face in my shirt.

“He’s not yours, is he?” she asked, watching as I adjusted his weight on my hip. He wasn’t exactly a toddler anymore, maybe even too old to be carried around, but I didn’t mind. But I balked at her question, laughing as Ezra began to peek at her. “No, he’s not mine. He’s uh… he’s my friend Taylor’s son.”

“Well he’s adorable,” she replied, smiling brightly at him once more before returning to the front of the store. Ezra immediately opened up again, pointing at each candy in turn. Once he was satisfied he had gotten one of everything, I brought him back to the table I had been rolling silverware together at, plopping him on my lap.

“Tank-you, Halley,” Ezra said after a moment, shoving his spoon back into his ice cream, “I forgot to tell you, and Daddy says I haff to always say tank you.” I glanced down at him, smiling indulgently as I wiped the whip-cream off his nose, “You’re welcome, sweetie.” Looking through the door, I caught Taylor looking in our direction, but the second I turned, his gaze was gone, the tell-tale smoke still rising. Ezra seemed to follow my gaze, a wonder the perceptions of children, and the little boy instantly lost his glow.

“Why is Daddy so sad all the time?” he asked, sliding off my lap and dunking his spoon into the ice cream, now more playing with it than actually eating it. My throat tightened in sympathy for Ezra, as I remembered all too well suffering through my own parents’ moods and miseries; when my grandmother had passed away, my mother was inconsolable for weeks. Being only eight at the time, I had never gotten to know my grandmother well enough to feel the loss, but my mom? She cried for days on end, and I remembered feeling utterly helpless.

“Well, Ezra, I don’t know,” I finally said, staring back out the window. The street lights illuminated the new mixture of the sleet and snow, Taylor’s back pressed tightly to the window to stay out of its way. If I hadn’t been trying to cheer up the cutest little boy ever, I might have found it pretty. “Sometimes… sometimes Daddy probably doesn’t even know himself.”

“Oh.” Ezra dropped his spoon into his ice cream, which was quickly becoming a green and brown goop. “But Daddy smiles when he sees you. Can you make him smile?” He turned his father’s eyes, big blue lakes, up at me, pleading. “Daddy’s in the rain,” he whined, pointing through the glass.

I sighed, picking Ezra back up and discarding his soupy ice cream. I couldn’t let Taylor stand out in the snow all night, neither could I let his son hang around with me until Taylor decided to claim him. Like it or not, I was at work, and Mike’s temper had been on the rise all night with Tara’s continual fuck ups.

“Hi,” I said quietly as I stepped out into the snow, settling Ezra once again onto my him. Taylor instantly threw his cigarette down as I came out holding his son, his eyes glazing over as his gaze fell on me.

“Hi.”

We stood in an awkward silence, Ezra’s weight slowly becoming more and more painfully aware by the aching in my arms, but I wasn’t putting him down. The ice-cream seemed to have an adverse effect on him, as he grew sleepy, yawning heavily and burying his head in my shoulder.

“So, um, why are you here?” I finally forced out, huddling up against the building and watching for Mike to come running out and yell at me to finish my work or get off his clock. I certainly wasn’t getting paid to stand on the sidewalk and have a terrible uncomfortable conversation while being used as a human pillow.

He shrugged, one eye on his son at all times. “I’m not good at staying angry. And Ezra wanted to come and see you.” His features softened as he stepped closer, gently relieving me of his child. By now, Ezra was nearly asleep, and the feel of his father’s arms seemed to be an instant tranquilizer as his cheek feel to his shoulder. “Look. Halley, I’m sorry I left like that… but Ezra… he’s my life. I’m just… sensitive… about that. I still want you to come on Saturday, but… I understand if you don’t.”

My eyes were still lost on the little boy as I mulled over Taylor’s proposition. I had missed simply knowing he was there at the end of the night, I had missed the random displays of affection. If I was going to be any meaningful part of Taylor’s life, for however long that may be, I was going to have to deal with Natalie if I was going to be near Ezra. And I couldn’t be near Taylor without being near Ezra.

“I’ll try,” I finally agreed, smoothing Ezra’s hood over his head as I shivered in the cold. “I’ll come, but if… if I can’t deal with Natalie, I’m going to leave.”

“Thank you,” he replied with a smile, leaning forward to touch his lips to mine gently. With his free hand, he cupped my cheek, his thumb running along the bone. “Are you almost done?”

“Yeah, in five minutes or so, why?”

“Well, if it’s ok with you, I was thinking I’d bring Ezra home and maybe stop by your place?”

Shelly’s insistence he would be back echoing in my head, I knew I was grinning like a fool at the words. She had been right; I hadn’t lost this one. It just proved how wonderful he was, and how lucky I was to have him. “I’d love that,” I told him, leaning close to put a kiss on his cheek, and one for Ezra too, who didn’t so much as stir with the touch. Taylor seemed touched by the action, waving once more before looping his scarf around his mouth and starting off into the snow. But he hadn’t gotten far before he returned, breathing heavily from his rush, “You’re not walking home, are you?”

“I was going to, why?”

“It’s way too slippery,” he insisted, gesturing with his free hand toward the sidewalk, “It’s all icy from the rain before. Promise me you’ll wait here for me to come back for you.”

“That’s really sweet, but I’ll be fine. I’ve lived in the city for years,” I reminded him, touched at his concern. “Besides, I’m really only going to be another five minutes.”

“Please?” His eyes were huge and pleading, so I reluctantly agreed to wait. He hurried off again, and I went back to finish my work, glowing. Ashley was sitting where I had been, beginning to roll her share of the silverware. “That’s some friend you got there,” she remarked, raising her eyebrows, “Cause I know I carry all my friends’ kids around and then kiss them good night.”

I blushed crimson and took my seat, shrugging helplessly, but with a big, stupid grin on my face the entire time. “He’s a wonderful man.”

“He must be. I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time,” she said, giving my arm a quick squeeze before we quietly returned to our work, commiserating about our evening and how much we were coming to dislike Tara.

So I stood out under what had become just snow waiting for Taylor, a cigarette dangling from my lips, shivering slightly in the cold. I hadn’t counted on standing outside the way I was, long accustomed to being warmed by the walk. But in the end, when he arrived, it was with a single white rose and a cab to whisk me home in.

So we sat in silence, my fingers delicately handling the rose, his arm around my shoulders, but it was that silence we had known before, the gentle hum of the tires on the snow, the ins and outs of his breath, and once again, I found myself at peace.

I guess it was true; everyone just needed a little loving around Christmas time.

9.

It was a nervous smile that graced my lips as we stood outside Taylor’s brothers’ apartment, his hand reaching to tightly squeeze mine in reassurance. It was a particularly cold day, so there we were, both bundled tightly in the warmth of the hallway, his red scarf wrapped securely across my neck, which was convenient in hiding my flaming cheeks. I was terrified of this; from what little Taylor had shared with me about his brothers, they were… interesting.

“Hey, Haley, don’t worry so much, it’ll be fine,” he whispered, reaching into his pocket for his keys. I glanced at him quizzically as he shoved a key in the lock, wondering why on earth he was letting himself into his brothers’ apartment.

“Isn’t someone home?”

“Probably,” Taylor replied absently, holding one hand on the door. His face had broken out in the warmest grin, his arm moving securely around me, exerting the slightest pressure to get me to turn my head up. His kiss was soft and gentle, just enough to make my knees weak as we moved through the door. The apartment was quiet, sort of empty looking, as Taylor shrugged off his jacket and hung it neatly with ten or so other coats of varying material and shape, waiting patiently as I unbuttoned my way out of a long leather coat.

“I can hang the scarf here too. It’s kind of warm,” he added on, glancing back at me after settling my coat. With my cheeks matching said scarf, I mumbled a reply, “Is it horrible if it makes me feel better to wear it?”

“Not at all. It’s cute.” He dropped a quick kiss on my forehead, his arm around my waist again steering me into the other room. Here it was we found the two brothers, fussing over a massive stack of gifts. They looked up as we entered, the shiny boxes surrounding them quickly toppling without their attention.

“Oh, no,” the one I assumed to be Zac burst out, staring hard at me, “Taylor, you didn’t.” Isaac stood as well, shaking his head in my direction. Taylor was laughing, some inside joke I’m sure, but me, I was feeling about an inch tall. Why were they all staring so intently at me?

“At least it’s not July,” Zac added on, brushing off his hands and then turning his attention to me. “Hi, I’m Zac,” he began, walking towards me. The next I knew, his arms were wrapped securely around me in a bear hug that squeezed the air from my lungs. “Welcome to the family,” he added on as he let me go, grinning like a madman.

I was Jack’s complete and utter confusion.

Taylor was still wearing an amused grin, watching as his younger brother moved away, letting his older, chuckling brother near me now. I wanted to hide behind Taylor, lord knows he’s tall enough, but I stood my ground, waiting to see if this one would bruise my ribs. But instead, he simply stepped forward, extending his hand, “I’m Isaac. Ignore Zac… he’s… special.” The three of them laughed again and I just forced a stiff grin. Smile and nod, Haley, just smile and nod.

“This is Haley,” Taylor said after a moment of my silence, my eyes wandering the room, the massive stack of poorly wrapped gifts, the tree filled with mismatched ornaments, the enormous concert grand piano in the middle of the room. I jumped at the sound of my name, Taylor staring back at me as the other two seemed to share another laugh at my expense.

“Jeez, Tay, you get her to wear your hideous scarves and she’s a space cadet too. When’s the wedding?” Zac questioned loudly from where he had wandered back to under the tree, fussing with the arrangement of gifts. I suppose this would have made me blush if it weren’t for the fact that my face had been continuously red since the moment I stepped through the door. My fingers flew to the scarf at my neck, protectively fingering the soft fabric. The word ‘wedding’ was unsettling in itself, as Taylor’s face took on a particular brand of sorrow I hadn’t seen in a while. It was gone in a quick moment, his brothers exchanging glances.

I just continued to feel like I was horribly intruding.

“Where’s Ezra?” I asked Taylor quietly as an awkward silence threatened to settle over us. I stepped closer to him, weaving my fingers into his in search of that tight squeeze.

“Natalie’s bringing him any minute,” Taylor mumbled in reply. His eyes met mine, a forced grin on his face, his brow furrowed. He slid his hand out of mine and nodded to his younger brother, “Hey, I’m going to go, uh, make a drink. Show Haley around?” Without so much as waiting for a reply, he disappeared off one side of the room, I assumed to the kitchen.

“He’s, uh, weird today,” Isaac said quietly, much more to his brother than to me. Zac just shrugged, flashing me a cheerful grin and taking my hand. Tugging me along, he pointed out the various features of the apartment, including some built-in book shelves I instantly fell in love with. He had me laughing by the end, which I had to say was quite the accomplishment; successful musician or not, New York apartments are tremendously expensive, and mostly you pay more for the doorman and address than the square footage.

But the relative calm of the apartment was broken by the cry of “Daddy!” and the sound of heels clattering along the hardwood floors. Great, I thought to myself, hoping I didn’t wince visibly. Natalie’s here, and Taylor’s in a mood, and his brothers know it, and I’ve never felt so out of place in my life. I could hear Taylor’s warm laughter echoing through the openness of the living room, so I figured it might actually be ok to come out of hiding. I reluctantly followed Zac as he led the way, flashing me his bright grin in what I could only hope was reassurance.

Natalie had held nothing back in her dressing; a tight, low-cut sweater, with fitted, low-rise black pants and a pair of heeled boots, smoky makeup and every strand in place. I suddenly felt very under-dressed in my jeans and cream sweater. I had been going for ‘cute, but still ok to be around a small child.’ It looked to me like Natalie was either playing at making Taylor jealous, or winning him back, neither of which would spell any form of good for me.

Here I was, hoping for a merry holiday get-together, that Natalie was going to play nice for the sake of her child. It wasn’t looking to me like I was going to be winning out on that hope as Taylor’s face darkened, his eyes traveling from mine to Natalie’s. As the only other time she had ever seen me had been covered in food, I was dreading this encounter. Her opening remark stung as if I actually had the red hand-print on my cheek: “Well, when you’re not covered in food, you do clean up quite nicely.” Her eyes flashed, settling momentarily on the scarf, a smirk on her lips while she glanced at Taylor’s reaction, taking in his stony expression. Poor Ezra had been passed off to his uncles, who were glorifying in his excitement over the mountain of gifts.

It all just seemed like a horribly gone wrong fairy tale. I mean, here I am, and I’ve met Prince Charming, only I didn’t know he was Prince Charming. Let’s face it; in America, our celebrities are our royalty. We’re not England with a grand monarchy stretching back, and princes and kings to spy on. Our tabloids are filled with the escapades of rock stars and movie gods. Unbeknown to me I had snagged a real life rock star, complete with the adorable pleading smile… and the many, many skeletons in the closet. It had seemed so perfect for about ten seconds, the beautiful, sweet, loving man, showing up with a rose and this century’s shining horse in the snow. He wanted me to meet his family, to take me back to the palace atop the sky and make me a part of it. But that only was being splattered in my face as the reigning queen was refusing quite openly to step down. It was stupid of me to suppose I was going to be princess, to think that maybe just once, Haley Andrews was going to be special, not just another oh-so-hard-working college student waitressing her way through the bills; not just another single girl in her twenties convinced that in a city of millions she would meet the perfect man and get to keep him.

Natalie’s comment didn’t help things either. Taylor’s eyes narrowed at her, and I felt a spark of hope he was going to come running to my rescue. But he didn’t. He simply stalked forward, grabbed Natalie’s elbow and started dragging her off to the other end of the apartment, muttering in a hushed tone in her ear the entire time. His brothers noticed the departure, but what could they do other than smile tightly?

Their smiles said it all. They said, Ezra is what’s important here. Ezra doesn’t need this. Their smiles said, look, look at what you’ve started. Now Christmas is going to be about Natalie and Taylor’s fighting, not about our nephew. Their smiles said, you’re not royalty and you don’t belong.

So I smiled a fake smile, plastered it firmly across my cheeks and graciously excused myself. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t…” I gestured down the hall, where the raised voices could be heard only by their volume, the thick wooden doors they stood behind muffling the syllables. Their faces didn’t change expression, the same said smiles upon their lips as they both nodded, sharing an alarmed glance both at each other and down the hall as the volume rose through the wood.

“Would you like Uncle Ike to make you some hot-chocolate?” Isaac jumped in, swinging the now-giggling little boy into his arms and heading in the opposite direction of husband and wife. “It was nice to finally meet you, Haley,” he called over his shoulder, “We’ll let Taylor know you’ve gone home.”

Zac stood awkwardly in front of me as I shot one more glance toward the man I thought was my boyfriend, currently arguing with his wife. “I’m really sorry,” he said after a lengthy pause, running his fingers over spiked hair, “I mean, we should have known this… wasn’t going to work… they’re not… ready… to be civil and…” He laughed a nervous laugh, gently touching my arm and guiding me toward the door. “Look, Haley, it’s not you… Taylor’s… he might not be as ready as he thinks. I like you, I mean, I like you for the little I’ve known you. Whatever happens… it’s not you.” His face was gradually flushing darker, both of us jumping at the slamming of a door somewhere within the apartment. “You should go,” he finally added, reaching for my jacket off the coat rack, his eyes lingering on Taylor’s scarf. “I promise, I’ll let him know you had to go when, uh… well, when they’re through.”

I nodded, for lack of anything better to do, and wrapped my coat securely around me, nodding my good-bye and walking slowly down the hall. With the click of the door behind me, I stopped, glancing back at the coldness of the dark wood, the numbers painted on it no more welcoming than a grimacing ferry-man. I wanted to crumple right there on the thick carpeting, just let myself fall in a heap and mourn the loss of my perfect moments. Part of me said, cry, cry until there are no more tears, until the tears have flooded the memories of these few weeks, of the phone calls, of standing in the snow with his son in my arms, of the dried rose hanging from my bedroom wall.

But with that last long gaze at the solemn broken promise of a closed front door, I put my chin up and shoulders back and strode with elegant melancholy and pride right back to where I had come from. In the cold breeze of late December, I made my way along cracked sidewalks to my door, turning the key in the lock and smiling graciously to my neighbor. I put my things away, slowly got undressed, got into the shower, and screamed at the top of my lungs. I screamed until I felt I had pushed all the air out of my lungs, until I couldn’t scream anymore, and then I cried. I lay in the bottom of my shower and I cried until the hot water ran out, cried for what could never be, cried for the frustration and the anger and the utter sadness and worthlessness I felt. I simply wasn’t good enough, nor was I ever going to be. He had married a model the first time around, and I was just a waitress. I had let myself believe the fairy tale, I had grabbed a hold of it and made myself a part of it, and now here I was, without it.

When I finally got out of the shower, the image in the mirror wasn’t anything I could bear to look at. Puffy, mascara streaked eyes that matched flaming cheeks and lips paled by constant gnawing. All this, over a man. A man I had known was out of my league from the moment I set eyes on him. Curled up on my couch in a white, fluffy bathrobe, I turned to “Law & Order” re-runs and lost myself in the saga of New York crime.

So when the phone rang hours later, I was near asleep, on my fourth episode, which I had seen at least twice before, and long since exhausted by my tears. From the machine, Taylor’s voice filled the apartment; “Haley… it’s me. We’ve um… we’ve got to talk. I’m uh… well… I’m uh, sorry about what happened. I uh, I guess you were right and um, well, um, if you can call me when you get this… or I uh, well, I think I’m going to stop by. I’m uh, well, I need some air… so uh, if you’re there and uh, not um, picking up, well, I’ll see you soon.”

I felt paralyzed as his voice echoed through the small rooms. I couldn’t lift my hand to pick up the phone and stop him, nor could I think to stand and turn out my lights, pretend I wasn’t there. The truth was, I wanted to see him, I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to hope and hope that maybe there was going to be a karma to all my hard work and I was going to get something wonderful, that once, something was going to work out for me.

I glanced out the window and watched as the snow that had started an hour or so earlier fell at a steady pace. With no where to be the next day and nothing to do, I was delighted by the flakes shimmering in the street light. Here we were, days from Christmas, and there was snow falling in the city. If only there hadn’t been an ominous voice with the feared “we have to talk” line on my answering machine, I might have been perfectly delighted when there was a light rapping upon my door twenty minutes later.

10.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to answer the door in my bathrobe, my snarled hair and puffy eyes. I didn’t want Mr. Gorgeous to see me a complete wreck, surrounded by a mountain of tissues as evidence of my sorrow. Nor did I suppose that American royalty should be walking in the middle of the night to my crap apartment, but I didn’t care. There was another set of soft raps at my door, but I just stared at the back of the wood, as if somehow the figure on the other side of it would make his way through.

“Haley!” The voice called, tired, exasperated, but insistent, “Haley, please open the door, I know you’re there.” He knocked again, making me jump with the insistence behind his rapping. I wanted to keep ignoring him, I wanted to stay hurt enough that I would force myself to separate from what had potential to be an involved relationship. But instead I found my feet making their way to the door, that small part of my logical brain still working insisting he may try to keep this up all night, and that wouldn’t sit well with my oh-so-lovely neighbors.

“What do you want?” I mumbled, hating how scratchy my voice sounded even to myself as I blocked his entrance to the apartment. My robe was falling open, but I didn’t care. He was standing, arms limp at his sides, his hair damp with fallen snow, cheeks rosy from the cold. He sniffled, whether from tears he had shed or the cold, I didn’t know, I didn’t care. I was so numb, having left everything I had felt to drain away in my shower, that it didn’t seem to matter he had walked to my apartment in the middle of the night in the snow. His hair in his eyes, he briefly tried to meet my gaze, but failed. Yet instead, he took the few small steps forward, reaching for my robe and tugging it back together, “It was coming undone,” he said softly, still not meeting my gaze, “and it’s cold out. You’re going to get sick.”

I nodded absently, still blocking his way, but not resisting as he slowly wrapped his arms around me, enveloping me in a hug of the warmest proportions. “Haley, if I told you that you were right, and I was sorry, would it make any difference?”

I shrugged, still finding it difficult to put my thoughts into words. I wanted to say, yes, just that you’re here makes it all ok. Just that you care enough to come after me, that means something, but I couldn’t find my voice. It must have been lodged in the pit of my stomach, because it sure as hell felt like there was some extra weight down there. But he was backing me into the apartment, the door shutting behind him, his fingers clicking the lock into place, and me, I was wandering back to the couch, where I flopped with no concern for his presence. I felt like I was still dazed he had even appeared; as far as I was concerned I had lost.

“Haley,” he started again, coming and sitting next to me, shrugging off his jacket to reveal a T-shirt that may have seen better days. He smelled thickly of cigarettes, as if he had been chain smoking the entire walk, the cold sticking to him and mingling into a sort of winter in the city smell I couldn’t say I disliked. “Haley, I’m… I can’t… explain… she shouldn’t have said what she said,” he finally got out, taking my hands and staring at me. I wanted to melt, to say, I know, it wasn’t you who said it, it was her, and she was the one who was nasty, but I couldn’t.

“Taylor…” I instead mumbled, staring down at our hands in my lap, his wrapped around mine, “Taylor, it’s just… you two still have… well you have Ezra together, and Natalie’s never, ever going to be out of your life. She shouldn’t. She’s the mother of your child, and Ezra needs his mom as much as he needs you.” I could feel the tears prickling in my eyes again as I felt the weight of the words slamming into me again. I was never going to be first in his life, and I was never going to be able to have a family all our own.

Something in his face hardened, but it wasn’t in his touch as he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “I’m seeking full custody of him,” he said after a moment, shrugging his shoulders, “Natalie wants to go back to Georgia, she hates the city, and I refuse to let my son be away from me like that. If she wants to leave, that’s her choice, but I don’t want him uprooted from a city he knows,” he continued, the hard edge to his voice at the mention of his wife’s name disproving my theory I had fallen short against her. “And if Natalie chooses to leave, Ezra will still see her. And besides, he’s got you,” he added on, whispering the last line in my ear, gently using his fingers to brush through my hair.

“Taylor, I don’t want to be a mom,” I said after a lengthy pause, too relaxed under his touch to chance the words, “I’m a semester away from being done with college. I don’t know what I’m going to do after that. I want to teach, I think, but that means grad school. Grad school doesn’t leave time for being a mom, and frankly, I want some time to be me, to be who I need to be, not who Ezra needs me to be for him.”

Taylor didn’t say anything for a long while, but his fingers continued to stroke gently through my hair, a sign my words couldn’t have offended him all that much. Yet eventually, in a soft and gentle tone, he began again, “Haley… I’m not… we’ve talked about this. I’m not asking you to be a mom. I mean… I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it and you’re right in some ways. We’re a package deal, me and Ezra, and you can’t have me without my son. And if you can’t… or won’t… take us together, than maybe it would be better if we didn’t see each other.” He stopped for a second, gently pushing my gaze to his, “But honestly, Haley, I’ve grown way too fond of you to lose you. So unless you tell me this second you’re one-hundred percent positive you can’t have Ezra in your life, than I’m going to stay in this apartment until you’re not mad at me anymore.”

I couldn’t help but crack a smile at the last line. “And what if I stay mad at you forever?” I teased back, the lump dissipating in my stomach, my voice finding itself again. “Does that mean you’re going to stay forever?”

“Well, I guess it means I’ll be washing these clothes every morning, but sure,” he replied, a smile breaking out across his cheeks, his arms scooping me closer as his mouth made its way toward mine, the kiss we shared a sweet one full of apologies. He leaned back into the cushions, pulling me to his lap and running his hands up under my robe, massaging my back with gentle hands as my cheek found his shoulder. “Does that mean I get to stay tonight? Cause it was a really cold walk over here.”

I tried to harden my face into seriousness, but the sensation of his delicate fingers massaging away my worries was taking away any serious thought in my body. Instead, I mumbled a faint reply, curling up closer to him and resting my cheek up against him. “I just,” I said after a minute, folding my hands under my cheek, “I just wonder how you did it, Taylor, I mean, how you got married and… you were so young…”

He shrugged under my weight, stopping his massaging and wrapping his arms around me. His chin resting on my head, he sighed, but then slowly started to speak. “It wasn’t, I mean, at the time it was… it was scary but it was something we had talked about before. It wasn’t like a lot of people thought, that whoops, she got pregnant and all of a sudden we got married. And it wasn’t all bad at first either… it just… we were too young. We were so in love with each other, not with a life together. I mean, I was out every other weekend with her, but then I was with my brothers, and we were just a bunch of guys having a good time, drinking, music, dirt bikes. I liked to drive fast and play my music so loud I could feel the vibrations in my chest. But it didn’t mean I didn’t love her… I loved her… I loved her like any nineteen year old loves, hard, fast, like everything else in my life was at that time…” He trailed off, pausing and staring out the window, the gentle snow falling in the orange glow of the street lights. His eyes were cloudy, but not from tears, more like from the grey of memory, his thoughts twisting and turning as he tried to find a way to say these things out loud.

“I mean, it was just…” He sighed, twirling my hair around his fingers, absent movements across my head that felt delicious. “One day I got a phone call. I was on the road for something, I don’t remember what, somewhere, and she was crying, and that was it. I was going to be a dad. So I hung up the phone and I cried, and my brothers stood there and looked at me, and I couldn’t tell them. Instead I flew to Georgia, I went to her house, got down on one knee and… that was it. We announced the engagement to our friends and family, and then two weeks later, the pregnancy. Not that… well not that people didn’t see through it. My parents were young so…” He stopped again, shaking his head, with the tiniest smile on his lips, “My parents were so good to us. I don’t know how they’ve raised us all, I mean, they’re still raising my younger siblings, Ezra’s got an aunt practically his own age, but…” There were tears pooling in his eyes now, his lips frozen in a sad smile as his eyes met mine, his cheeks flushed right to the tips of his delicate ears. “I’m just… I’m terrified I’m not going to be the kind of parent my dad was. That Ezra’s going to hate me like so many kids end up hating their parents.”

“Taylor, that little boy loves you so much. You’re a great father. You put your son first, before everything, and that counts. Maybe one day he’s going to look at you and not think so, but when he’s old enough to understand he’s going to see that,” I said softly, reaching up to brush his hair off his face. He nodded slowly, but looked away, blinking furiously and staring into space again. He fell silent and I let him, afraid of what I may say if I let myself speak, of how I might ruin this strange moment of openness between us. This was a side of Taylor I knew had to be there someplace, but I had never actually seen. Now it was living and breathing on my couch, and I didn’t want to scare it back inside, wherever it was he hid it.

“But I’m not,” he whispered after a long silence, during which I had begun to fall asleep. The sudden shock of his voice in the quiet of the apartment jolted me back awake, my eyes meeting his again. “Haley, you were right, about today. It wasn’t good for Ezra… he knew we were fighting. She uh, well she took off not too long after you and my brothers, God bless them, they tried so hard to make him ok, but he knew his mom was gone. And it just… it was awful.” He took a deep breath, glancing down at me, me doing an utterly horrible job of hiding the hurt. But as if he could read my thoughts, he shook his head and smiled, “No, no, that came out wrong. Haley, this isn’t your fault. I mean, I should have known… she… wasn’t ready for that. I don’t know things would have gone any better had I gone alone, but you were right about her reaction to you. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

I let out the breath I didn’t know I had been holding in a heavy sigh, pulling him to me. I didn’t want to talk anymore, I just wanted to be there, for him, with him, hold him in my arms and absorb all that he had told me. My heart went out to him, because here I was, twenty-two, and I couldn’t understand what it was like to have a toddler already, to have been married, and now facing the prospect of divorce. I’d seen my fair share of break-ups and heartaches and those were hard enough to go through without having to repeat the sordid details in a court.

Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearly three in the morning, and Taylor was falling asleep on my couch, his head thrown back to the edge of the couch, his eyes closed, face frozen in misery. His thumb was lazily stroking my shoulder, his breaths slowly becoming longer and easier. But I had the nagging guilty feeling that Ezra, somewhere else in the city, was going to be waking up in a few hours, and he was going to want his daddy.

“Taylor,” I said gently, giving his a slight shake. “Taylor, where’s Ezra?”

“With his uncles,” he mumbled, picking his head up from the couch and staring at me, “I left him with my brothers. Natalie never came back, and I wasn’t about to call her. They’ve uh, well, lately, it’s a room I share with him, but they’ve got a guest room and they got Ezra a bed for it.” His eyes lit up as he paused, a slow laugh coming up from his throat, “It’s actually really adorable to see him all curled into a race car at night. Really makes a father proud.”

His laugh was infectious and I couldn’t help but laugh with him, picturing the little boy with his arms curled in checkered sheets, safe in the confines of his plastic car. But it didn’t change that he was there without a father, and the conflict that I didn’t want Taylor to leave.

“Um, but… I mean… shouldn’t you… I think maybe… well shouldn’t you be there in the morning?” I finally managed to get out, terrified I would set him off again.

But he only nodded slowly, wrapping his arms more tightly around me. “I should,” he replied, leaning down and kissing my forehead, “I just… I want to stay here. I want to be with you. You’ve got this way of… I just feel better when I’m with you.” With his gaze set on mine, his lips hovering close, I let the temptation bury me, pulling me up into his arms, a tangle of limbs as our kisses chased the burning flesh of the other. Without caring how slow I had wanted anything, without caring it was three AM and this was the man who had caused me to cry with utter abandon, I wrapped my legs around him, his clothes gone, my robe having fallen open again, only he didn’t care quite so much this time. Instead our bodies fell into rhythm, his hands wandering over my body, guiding our rhythm, his eyes closed and head thrown back against the cushions until the sheer pleasure of it all spilled into our moment of ecstasy.

We were simply quiet for a long moment, still tangled together, his arms tight around my back, his heart thudding in my ear as I pressed my cheek to his chest. Then that sweet laugh, the one I was quickly realizing was his only genuine laugh, began to spill out, his fingers gently combing the hair he had just spent considerable time mussing. “So how do you think I’m walking home after that?”

I smiled and shook my head, my arms around his neck, his cologne stronger than ever in the sheen of sweat covering his flesh, the floral shampoo fresh in my hair as I breathed all of him in. “We’ve got to find a better way…” I said softly, tracing patterns across his chest, “I can’t let your son be without his father all the time.”

“We’ll figure something out,” he responded, kissing my cheek again, “I promise I’ll figure something out, but tonight… you’ve got tomorrow off. And I would just love to spend the morning with you.”

“Do your brothers know where you are?” I asked, hesitant. I wanted to be selfish, I wanted to simply say, yes, of course, come to bed, but there was a nagging itch in the pit of my stomach for this little boy’s well-being.

“Yeah. And my phone’s on, should they need me.” He pointed to where his pants lay in a heap on the floor, the glow of the time peeking out a pocket.

“Well then I guess you stay.”

“Good, cause I was starting to get pretty cold,” he said, making an exaggerated glance to his lap, “And that never looks good.”

“I don’t think you need to worry,” I replied instantly, leaning forward and smothering him in soft, playful kisses before grabbing my robe and leading the way to my bedroom. He joined me shortly, dropping the clothes from the living room in a heap on one side of the bed, carefully balancing his phone on the nightstand, scaring the shit out of me as he tested to volume, set to high. “What?” he protested, “I’m a heavy sleeper when I’m… worn out.”

“You and every other man,” I teased right back, curling into his arms and simply relishing how good it felt to have a lovely man in my bed, one who would be there in the morning.

“Haley,” he whispered, as my eyes were sliding shut, his long arms wrapped securely around me, “Thank you… for being here. I uh…I can’t explain how much you’ve done.”

I turned to him and left a gentle kiss on his cheek before closing my eyes and quickly falling into an exhausted sleep. The hours, the tears, the joy, all melted together as we lay in bed, the snow falling, Christmas approaching, and some semblance of normal finding its way into our hearts.

11.

The days of Christmas break fell away, December fading into January, life going on. I saw more and more of Taylor, spent long afternoons at his brothers’, playing with Ezra and taking simple joy in watching Taylor interact with his son. Or it was evenings spent at my apartment, occasionally at one of the neighborhood bars, simply enjoying each other’s company and slowly realizing how much this man had come to mean to me.

My job was business as usual. Tara, while her work habits improved, was possibly the most horrible person I had ever met in my life. She never failed to find a reason to say something snide, jumping at any chance to prove me wrong in anything I did. Lucky for me, my boss saw through it, or maybe more practically, left me alone after each of Tara’s tattles, because it was never a big mistake. And while she didn’t mention Taylor to me again, or Natalie for that matter, every time he came through the door, she glared at me. Every time I went waltzing around the back with Ezra, delighting the little boy with candies, her eyes screamed, “That is not your son! That will never be your son!”

She said nothing to Taylor, for which I was grateful, because I told him plenty about her. And Taylor? He was itching for the chance to tell that bitch off. The one time she tried to be nice, asking if she could hold Ezra, he very snidely replied, “He’s horrible with strangers, sorry,” before handing him off to me, who then handed him off to Ashley and a few other girls that had worked there long enough to know the little boy. Tara stomped off in a huff and Taylor shot me a sly grin before reclaiming his son.

And while we were building a strong relationship, his marriage was crumbling apart further and further with each passing day. Natalie, whose name I realized Taylor no longer ever said, referring to her only by pronouns, had steered clear of me, but she let loose all her wrath on Taylor the minute he set foot in their apartment. She found reasons to fight with him, on several occasions simply making up promises he had made and of course then broken… namely because he hadn’t known of them in the first place.

Sometimes I really wished I could give that girl a good slap.

So the hours bled into days, and into weeks, and life went on. Taylor had left Ezra with me for an afternoon, something having come up in regards to his music, and I had simply offered. By the looks of things, Ezra was going to be a part of my life for a while, and I wanted to see if I could connect to this boy, without the lure of candy. So on that January afternoon, in the brilliant bright of winter sun, I bundled him up into his parka, myself into another of Taylor’s lovely scarves, and set off for the park.

This is where I have to correct myself. Normal. I said that. Well, whoops, just kidding.

We had been at the park for a while, a snowman evidence of our adventure together, and I was sitting on a bench, watching as Ezra ran and jumped through the snow a few feet away. Watching may have been an understatement, actually, as I was terrified of anything happening to him. This was the first time Taylor had left his son alone with me, and I was just waiting for something terrible.

I got terrible. It just wasn’t the sort of terrible I had anticipated. It was the terrible, I have to call Taylor from the emergency room terrible, it was the terrible where my heart just sort of… stopped.

Ezra, giggling madly like any small child should, eventually set down his snow balls and wandered over to me, climbing in my lap and hugging me. Curious as to the sudden affection, I was became concerned he may have gotten cold, so after hugging him back, I set him down. “You ready to go? Too cold?”

“Ok,” he replied, taking my hand and starting to slowly walk with me to the exit. We had gone maybe twenty feet before he began to whine softly, “Haley, I’m tired.” With a sigh from me, the kid was getting heavy, I picked him up into my arms, adjusting him to sit more comfortably on my hip. “Better?” He nodded furiously, his cheeks and nose flushed from the cold, his mitten-covered hands looped around my neck.

“I like you more than Mommy,” he said suddenly, “You’re more fun than Mommy. And you don’t yell.”

I nearly dropped him, I was so shocked, but instead I simply shifted his weight and stared at him. His comment didn’t seem to concern him, his head drooping back to my shoulder and gently bouncing along as I walked to the nearest exit, my eyes already scanning for a good spot to hail a cab.

This was certainly not a good thing. Ok, well, maybe, it was a good thing to be loved by this little boy, but I didn’t want to be compared to his mother. As much as I hated her, I hated her for what she was doing to Taylor. Never once had I tried to pass judgment on her mothering, nor on her for who she was without Taylor. I definitely didn’t want to replace her in Ezra’s life, for everyone’s sake. As touched as I was, I was going to need to have a conversation with Taylor about this. I wasn’t ready to be this important to this little boy, and I certainly didn’t want it getting back to Natalie; nothing would bring out the worst in a woman more than her motherhood being challenged.

I had been so lost in these thoughts that I hadn’t realized someone had been calling my name until there was a touch on my shoulder, causing me to spin around quickly, tightly grasping Ezra. My first thought was some fan, an increasing amount of whom were beginning to recognize me even when I wasn’t with Taylor, but it wasn’t. It was Sam.

“Well he’s too old to be yours,” he said after a pause, staring at the child on my hip, “Or have I been missing a lot out of your life? I mean… I know the last month I haven’t seen you.” His gaze was hard, cold, his arms folded in black leather tightly on his chest, “It was so nice of you to just drop off the face of the earth.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered with a shrug, reaching to adjust Ezra’s hood, “I’ve been busy.”

“With that Tyler guy?”

“Taylor,” I corrected, shifting my weight around. Standing in one spot, the toddler on my hip was becoming even heavier, and Sam’s brooding gaze wasn’t helping. “This is his son Ezra. Ezra, wanna say hi to my friend Sam?” He peaked his head out from my shoulder, where he had been hiding, and stared at Sam, giggling, but refused to say hi. I sighed, glancing back at Sam, “Look, I’m sorry I haven’t called. It’s just… I’m busy, Sam. I’ve got work, and school starts up again next week, and with Taylor’s schedule, it’s hard to find time together.”

Sam shook his head, a bitter look on his face, “Haley, don’t lie to me. You’ve been living it up with this guy. You didn’t tell me he was famous.”

I stared blankly back at him, wondering where on earth the comment had come from, and how he had even found out. “Excuse me?” was all I managed to say, my voice strangling me.

“He’s Taylor Hanson, Haley! Don’t even try to tell me you don’t know who he is. There was a picture of you two on Page Six at some hotel restaurant. Mentioned his divorce hadn’t gone through yet.” Sam’s eyes narrowed at me, one arm leaving his leather-clad side to gesture wildly, “I mean, what gives Haley? You’ve got Mr. Married and Famous, the hell with Sam, Sam who’s been there forever?”

“Sam…” I wanted to cry I felt so miserable. Sam was right. I had simply shut him out, I hadn’t returned his few calls, and I certainly hadn’t made an effort to contact him. The one time I had seen him walking into a bar, I had immediately tugged Taylor in a separate direction. “Sam, I’m sorry. That’s all I can say. Is that I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing away, his eyes refusing to settle on my face. The wind whipped my hair up around me, making me shiver in the cold of the approaching evening. “Haley… I hope this guy is worth it to you. I hope… I hope he loves you like I do,” he tacked on, taking a step forward long enough to kiss my mouth, long and hard, before taking off in the opposite direction.

Me? I stood in the middle of the sidewalk like a complete and utter fool, my hand clamped over my mouth. My lips felt bruised and I felt betrayed, hurt, and really confused. Sam had been my friend, my sometimes lover, but I had never thought Sam was in love with me. It had never occurred to me that he had put so much stock into the time I spent with him, the time I had spent in his bed. Taylor was the first actually boyfriend I had had for years, someone I saw more than twice and got sick of. And Sam wasn’t happy.

I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and glanced at the time, realizing Taylor should be back at his brothers’ by now, the place we had agreed to meet. So I hailed a cab and gave the proper address, sinking into the cracked leather and worrying the entire ride back to the apartment. I was going to have to tell Taylor; if I didn’t, there was a good chance the talkative little boy sitting next to me would.

It was Taylor’s younger brother that opened the door to the apartment, an easy smile greeting us when he saw Ezra nearly asleep on my shoulder. “You’re going to be a great mom someday,” he said absently, almost more to himself than meant for me to hear. At the comment, I blushed deeply, but he didn’t notice, quickly taking Ezra from me and beginning to untangle him from his numerous layers. “Did you have a good time with Haley?” he asked him, ruffling his hair after pulling off his hat and mittens, all of which ended up in a snow-drenched heap by the heater vent. Ezra nodded, then ran off into the apartment. The sound of him playing drifted out from the living room as I stood, carefully removing all my winter accessories while Zac watched.

“Where’s Taylor?” I asked after a moment, turning from the coat rack and shoving my hands in the pocket of my jeans, “He said he would be back by now.”

“He went with Ike to grab some coffee for everyone. He should be back any second,” Zac replied, but his words were faint, his mind obviously somewhere else. The intense look in his eyes as he studied me seemed to reveal where those thoughts were, “Ezra really likes you,” he said after a long moment, “You’ve, uh, you’ve done really well with him.” He paused, gnawing on his bottom lip, “I may have been wrong about you… and Taylor… I mean, you guys are… great together.” He stopped again, staring at his hands, chewing off a nail and unceremoniously spitting it out before continuing, while I did my best not to grimace.

“It’s just… Haley, you’re a sweet girl. And I like you. But… you scare me and Ike. Taylor’s investing so much in you right now. He’s forgotten how to just date someone; he talks about you like you’ve just taken Natalie’s place. He talks about you like you’re going to be in his life forever.” He stopped, his stare not unkind, but also very intimidating, “Haley… if you’re not ready for long-term, you’ve got to tell him that. And you’ve got to walk away soon, because he’s falling hard. I can’t… I can’t watch him go through what he’s going through with Natalie all over again. I can’t have him falling apart like this.”

I stood silently examining the floor tiles as Zac delivered his mini-lecture. The comment about me taking Natalie’s place had not surprised me; I could sense it myself in Taylor’s behavior. He treated me often like much more than a girlfriend and it was obvious where his thoughts strayed when he watched me with Ezra. Yet I was taken aback by the sheer fact of Zac saying these things to me. I had known they were a close family and that it was likely both his brothers were going to know a lot about our relationship and its inner workings; what I had not expected was this sort of policing.

As politely as I could, I sighed and searched for a response to his comments. “Zac… look, I’m not… I care about your brother a lot. Ezra’s adorable. And I know how Taylor thinks of me… but he also knows I’m not ready for wife and mom. We’ve talked about it.” I forced the most convincing smile I could. “I’m taking things with him one day at a time.”

Zac opened his mouth to reply, but in that moment the door flew open and two very rosy Hansons walked through the door, each with festive Starbucks cups in hand. Taylor’s face lit up at the sight of me, his right hand proudly shoving a coffee cup forward, the ‘CAC’ scrawled at the bottom in black wax, “I hoped you were going to be back by now.” He eased off his jacket, his brothers disappearing into the living room together as we stood in the foyer, taking a quick moment together. He leaned in, kissing me gently in greeting, before returning to arranging his coat and gloves. “You haven’t been here long, have you?” I shook my head no, my thoughts returning to the park and Sam. “No, just a few minutes. Zac kept me entertained.”

“I’m sure,” he replied wryly, taking my hand and starting to lead me to where the others were. But my lips felt like they were burning again, the entire Sam episode weighing heavily on me in Taylor’s presence. So I tugged on his hand, and pulled him back to me, taking both his hands and staring at them. While he was staring back at me, most puzzled, I took the deep breath required to force this information out of my lungs.

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked, squeezing my hands in his and pulling me into a hug. I just wanted to burst into tears at his gentleness. “What happened?”

“It’s uh… well… I took Ezra to the park and-“

“He’s ok, right? It wasn’t something that…”

“No, no!” I quickly cut in, Taylor’s face immediately tensing into worry, his eyes darting toward the sound of his son playing in the other room. His entire body relaxed at my denial, and a soft smile took its place, relief visibly washing over him. “Ok, well…”

“Well, I ran into Sam,” I all but whispered, staring at the floor, hating how his entire body tensed at Sam’s name. Part of the reason I had ignored Sam had been Taylor’s obvious flaming jealously when he had first met him. And now, here we were, standing at his brothers’ apartment, and I was terrified of how he was going to react. “Well, more like Sam saw me and stopped me.”

“Ok,” Taylor said slowly, the word coming out along with a rush of air. “Well, what’s so bad that you’re so upset?” he asked cautiously, his voice shaking only slightly with the stress of keeping it calm. It was the cold sweat on his palms that gave his nerves away, the clammy sensation chilling me as much as his icy stare.

“Um, well, he, uh, he liked Ezra,” I said with a forced laugh, trying so hard to buy time, but he wasn’t having it. He only sighed and shook his head, “Haley, please tell me what went so wrong that you’re this upset.”

“Well, um, he’s, um, well, he said he loves me.” I paused, watching as Taylor’s cheeks began to flush, his eyes growing wide; the grip he had on my hands was so tight I thought my fingers were going to snap, “And um, he kissed me.”

“He did what?!” Taylor dropped my hands suddenly, taking two steps back and immediately burying his fingers in his hair, his eyes snapping shut and his lanky frame collapsing against the wall in defeat. I wanted to say something comforting, I wanted to say something helpful, what I wanted most was to profess my innocence and the way in which I had nothing to do with instigating it. I wanted to tell him, look, I was shocked, and he took off, and it was nothing, but I had to tell you. It was nothing and Sam is not the one I want to be with, you are. But instead I simply stood with my arms locked at my sides, unable to find words, as Taylor sank down against the wall, staring up at me. As his eyes hardened, deep blue steel, a single tear escaped his eye, trekking steadily downward until he angrily wiped it away before he turned his gaze to me. “Get out,” he whispered, looking away and looking burning a hole in the wall behind me, “Just get out.”

12.

I couldn’t help but just stare at him. Get out? I hadn’t done anything this time. This wasn’t my fault. I had run into Sam, who I had been avoiding for his sake, and Sam had shocked me with his actions. And now he was telling me to get out?

“Taylor…” I started slowly, my eyes never leaving his face, “I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me.” He was silent, folding his hands and unfolding them over and over, musical masterpieces silent for these few moments. But his face didn’t change, his expression stoic, solid, and when he finally looked out, it was only to repeat the two words he’d been saying.

I got down on the floor with him, kneeling beside him and resting one hand on his leg, pretending not to notice when he jumped back sharply, as if my touch had stung. “Taylor, you listen to me. I walk out that door and I’m not coming back. Is that really what you want?”

He turned his blank stare back at me, me gnawing at my lips and praying he wouldn’t call my bluff. I wanted so badly to just have things be right with us, to go back into the living room and enjoy dinner and some wine with his brothers, relax, before walking back to my apartment. But I wasn’t in a mood to play games either, not with Sam having dumped his true feelings in my lap. If he had been honest about it from the start, the very real possibility existed I may have been with him by then, not kneeling on the hard wood staring at the man I was with.

“Haley…” he started slowly, his eyes beginning to show some light, but still unreadable, “You’re going to come in here, tell me that this guy I’ve always sort of wondered about confesses to loving you, and you just want me to be ok?” He shook his head, reaching for the coffee he had left sitting on the floor beside him, taking a deep gulp out of it, his fingers running over the white lid, “I…” He stopped again, staring intently at the coffee cup in his hands. I wanted to put my head on his shoulder, tell him it would all be ok, and get on with it. But this had shocked me for its venom; I wasn’t at fault, but Taylor’s jealousy seemed to run far deeper than I had imagined.

I leaned up against the wall, staring at my own coffee cup, sipping lightly at the cider inside it. I felt bad for the cheerful cup, the bright colors and tender snowflakes wasted on two glum people. From the rest of the apartment came Zac’s deep rumbling laugh and the echoes of Ezra’s playing. Squeezing my eyes shut, I wished for it to all go away, and be a bad dream in the morning. I would wake up, none of this with Taylor had ever happened, and then Sam would tell me he loved me; I would never have gotten involved with the complications that surrounded Taylor’s life.

Taylor’s touch startled me out of my thoughts, his fingers finding mine and squeezing. When I opened my eyes again, his were staring back at me, hard, tears pooling just beneath his eyelashes. The coffee cup had been left to the floor again, his other hand reaching to brush the hair from my eyes. “It’s just that… Haley, I love you. And I can’t lose you now.”

My heart stopped for the second time that day. I wanted to open my mouth, tell him how I loved him too, how he meant more to me than I had thought anyone could in the two months we’d known each other. I wanted to kiss him and hold him in my arms, to make sure those tears didn’t spill over, but the air caught in my lungs as I stared back at him. The silence began to weigh heavily, and I did the only thing my brain cooperated with; I forced out a tiny laugh and made a joke of it all, “So does that mean I can stay?”

His face drew up into itself, the curtains slamming down on the windows in his eyes. But the fake smile to match my own painted its way into his features, masking all but a deep sadness. “Of course you can stay.” He didn’t say anything else, only wrapped his arms around me as we stood, holding me so tightly I wondered if he would ever let go. With another set of forced smiles, he kissed my cheek, grabbed his coffee, and led the way back to his brothers.

While they made dinner, I was left alone with Ezra, carefully sipping from a glass of wine and pushing small toy cars back and forth. I could hear the faintest conversation, but never once my name, trailing from the kitchen, with each brother making an occasional appearance to ask my opinion on this or that spice, or to see if I needed any more wine. Our dinner conversation was normal, but the tension was lurking under the surface, especially when Zac idly asked where Ezra was staying that night. Taylor cleared his throat, and looking anxiously at me replied, “I’m supposed to bring him back to her after dinner. She uh, well, it’s uh, Ezra’s misses Mommy,” he quickly finished, noticing his son’s eyes suddenly upon him. The little boy nodded, glancing at his father, and went back to mashing his carrots with a fork. The three brothers exchanged quick looks, but then said nothing, steering the conversation to their work in the studio that day. I listened as best I could, but after a while began to drift into my own thoughts, knowing little about music.

Taylor had said those three words I had wanted so badly to hear, and I had frozen. Why couldn’t I simply tell him, yes, I love you too, Sam doesn’t matter to me. He was a friend, but you are the one I am with now. You are the one who I look at and think to myself, maybe this is going to work. I’ve never wanted kids, but you’re slowly changing my mind. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be here. I would be with Sam.

I could just take him aside and explain I froze. Explain a million reasons why the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. He scared me, I had to admit to that, scared me in a way I couldn’t explain, hard as I tried. This wasn’t the first relationship I had been in, nor the first serious one. I had been convinced I was going to marry one of the guys I had dated, but well, that blew up in my face. It wasn’t about putting my heart out on the line and haven’t it stomped on… or was it?

“Haley?” Taylor was staring at me, as were his brothers, “Haley, is that ok with you?”

“Um…” I looked around at the sudden sea of faces, realizing I had gone too deep into my mind’s caverns to have continued to register the conversation around me. “What, uh, what was the question?”

Taylor sighed rather heavily, the tightening in his jaw revealing his annoyance, “Ike offered to walk Ezra back to Natalie’s so I can stay with you tonight. Is that ok with you?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, of course, that’s great with me,” I babbled, smiling nervously at everyone staring suspiciously back at me. I avoided their glances and reached for my wine, draining the cup in one large gulp. That certainly didn’t help with the staring problem. “Did you, um, did you want to hang out here for a while, or did you want to get going soon?”

“I just want to spend a little more time with Ezra, if it’s ok with you,” he replied, his eyes rushing from the empty glass to me. “Why don’t you, uh, why don’t you help Zac with the dishes, ok?” He stood up and put a kiss on my forehead before collecting his son and disappearing into the other room. Zac’s eyes met mine and I silently cursed Taylor. Of all the times, and all the people to leave me alone with, he had to pick me buzzed and his overly-vocal brother. Great.

I stood up quickly, too quickly, grabbing the back of the chair for support and then leaning in to stack the dishes. I was a waitress; I was built for this. But I could feel Zac’s stare on me the entire time as I collected forks and knives, piling them together like a deck of cards.

“Haley.” His voice startled me, causing a few dishes to clatter loudly together on the table, his fingers curled around my arm. I noticed he had gotten up and was standing nearer to me now, gently taking my hands away from the dishes, “Haley just talk to him.” When I finally brought myself to look at him, his face was clear of any blame or ill-will; it was only that same glazed-over melancholy I had seen splashed across Taylor’s features earlier. I nodded, and set back about collecting the dishes. Zac’s sigh matched Taylor’s, but I gave up on trying with him that night. I just wanted to leave the scene of the crime and curl up in my own bed. These things didn’t happen at my apartment, they always happened here. If I could just get out of that place, maybe things would turn out alright.

Taylor came to collect me shortly, his hand resting comfortably on the small of my back, his entire demeanor relaxed. But after we had said our goodbyes to his brothers and his son, his body froze up, his hand in mine stiff and rehearsed. The last thing I wanted was to be another of those horrible couples arguing on a New York street, but as the blocks wore on, I was getting more and more anxious. The tension was strangling me, Taylor’s faux ambling stride so glaringly fake in my eyes I was going to blow. So on the steps on my apartment, I paused, staring back at him, “Do you even want to be with me tonight, Taylor?”

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” he shot back, wrapping one arm securely around my waist. “I wouldn’t have walked all the way over here and given up my son for the night if I didn’t.”

But it wasn’t enough. I folded my arms tightly over my chest, hugging the leather to me, and meeting the closed gates head on. “Taylor, this is bullshit.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. You’re still upset about the Sam thing or whatever.”

“Oh, Haley…” he laughed a bitter laugh, taking a step away from me. “You think it’s just Sam?”

I didn’t think it was just Sam, I thought it had a lot more to do with something else, but Zac’s comment about Taylor thinking me his new wife, about the long-term commitment, Ezra’s comment about me versus his mom, all of it was weighing heavily upon me. Maybe I hadn’t said it back because I didn’t want it to be true; maybe I was looking down the pike and there was school, and job hunting, and the fear of being a waitress for the rest of my life, private college education bills to pay off or not.

When I didn’t say anything, Taylor pulled out a cigarette and took a seat on the steps, and I thought nothing of sitting down beside him. I wanted him, but I was beginning to realize how much that was going to mean. That scared me more than anything.

“No, Haley, you know what bothers me,” he finally choked out, the tears welling up behind his long eyelashes again, but refusing to spill, “What bothers me is that the only other woman I give my heart to in over seven years isn’t able to return the favor.” His tone wasn’t harsh, and definitely not unkind. It was just the same sort of even melancholy that had graced him since I had failed to repeat the words. “Or won’t. You tell me.”

I let out the long stream of smoke I had been holding in, reaching for his free hand with mine and squeezing his fingers tightly. “Taylor… you are an amazing man,” I began, choosing my words carefully, letting myself fall into the wells of his eyes, “I’m just… I… don’t know what to say. I… care about you so much, it’s just…”

“You don’t love me.” He shook his head, blinking furiously as he looked away, tugging his coat around him tighter and attempting to reclaim his hand, which I refused. “Taylor, you didn’t let me finish. I do love you, I love you more than I can tell you, but…”

Once the words were out I didn’t even know what to say. His gaze came back around to mine, watery as it may have been, but the sad smile hadn’t left. “But what, Haley?”

I took a deep breath, staring hard at the cracks in the cement before me, thinking of all the troubled relationships and all the crevices in my memories, “But, I’m not ready to replace Natalie. And I’m afraid you think I am. And your son seems to think I am.”

“What the hell is that supposed to me?” he snapped, tugging his hand out of mine with a sharp jolt. “Since when did you become the expert on my son?” His entire body had tensed again, his legs poised for a quick exit, a cat ready to spring at a moment’s notice. He stabbed the cigarette sharply into the sidewalk, folding his hands together, snapping one knuckle at a time, his eyes blazing behind a barely controlled fury, “Haley, you have not liked the idea of Ezra since we started dating. And while you’ve never been outright cold to him, you’re certainly not the one who can read him. I don’t know why you think you can.”

“He told me he liked me more than Mommy,” I said after a moment’s pause, quickly getting to my feet. Taylor’s protective instincts for his son’s well-being aside, I wasn’t a child. I refused to be treated, yet again, as if I was, simply because I didn’t have a kid of my own. It was a trend I was beginning to notice in Taylor; if he felt threatened in his parenting, he immediately returned to degrading my maturity. And I wasn’t having it. “His words, Taylor, his words that he said. How do you take that?”

He was silent as I stared down at him, his expression unreadable. But when he didn’t immediately offer any sort of reply, or apology, I decided I was over it. True, I had just admitted to him, and myself, that I was in love with him. This was going to hurt a whole lot when the sun fell on it come morning, but my pride was driving me quite quickly up the stairs.

“Haley, wait,” he called, hearing the jingle of my keys in the lock, “Haley… please, just wait.”

I turned, but didn’t pull the key from the lock, my hand still firmly planted on the door knob. “What? What sort of demeaning, degrading, patronizing bit of wisdom do you have for me now?” I seethed, getting angrier by the minute. He had judged me from the beginning, the stupid college girl with no worries and no responsibilities, somehow lesser than him because I hadn’t tackled adulthood in the same manner.

He sighed heavily, shoving his hands in his pockets and quickly coming to stand by my side. “I just want to say… I’m sorry, Haley, I’m sorry about everything.” He stopped, gnawing on his lip and staring blankly back out at the quiet street, the yellow of the lamp reflecting in his pale hair. “I’m sorry that I’m taking the divorce out on you, and I’m sorry that I have all this baggage. But I’m not sorry I have Ezra, and I’m not sorry he’s attached to you.”

Without speaking, I simply turned the doorknob and stepped inside, turning and holding the door open for him. I didn’t know what to say to his comments, and I was freezing. My apartment was my haven, and maybe there the answers would find me. Only when I stepped inside, shrugged off my coat and fell into my couch, there were no answers lurking in the cushions, only a few coins and a remote.

He sat down beside me, leaning his cheek to my shoulder and closing his eyes, one arm wrapped securely around my waist. It was tempting to remain silent, to let the issue fade away into the crevices with the coins, but it would be back one day. “Taylor,” I finally began, leaning back and shutting my eyes tight, “It’s not that I’m not attached to him, and it’s not that I mind him being attached to me. But she is his mother, and she will always be his mother. I can’t let him think I’m going to take her place. I shouldn’t take her place. Not with you and not with him.”

“Why not with me?” he asked in a tiny voice, nuzzling his lips against my neck, curling his fingers tighter against me, “Why can’t you fill that hole she left in me?”

“Because it’s not about taking her place, Taylor. It’s not about me being what she was. What I have with you is what we have together. Taylor and Haley. It doesn’t fill what she leaves behind, it creates something new. You can’t erase her from your life. And a day will come when you realize you have truly great memories of her, and you keep them in your heart, like you do for everyone you’ve loved. You don’t replace them, you realize them for what they are, and you build yourself past it.”

He sat up quickly, his entire face drawn into thought as he gazed at me. But he had the tiniest smile on his lips, and his fingers found their way into my hair, gently weaving through the silky strands. “Why is it every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you come up with something that throws my entire picture of you into a new perspective?”

I shrugged, not sure whether I should take that as his calling me childish again or not. “Because you keep thinking I’m this little girl, and I keep proving you wrong,” I blurted out, my anger simmering up to the surface. The sudden shock his features pulled back to told me I was right. “You think you’re so much older and wiser because you’ve been married and had a kid. But she’s the only woman you’ve ever given your heart to. You’ve never been through this, Taylor, this hurt, this pain, this inability to forget someone, simply because you loved them. But I have. I have given my heart to a few people, and I’ve had to put back together the pieces they left. And it’s not wrong to remember them, as long as you try to learn from your mistakes.”

“So the lesson from her is to use a condom?” he mumbled into his hands, shoving his cheeks down into his palms. “Jesus, Haley, it’s just a constant two steps back for every one forward, huh?”

I sighed, willing myself to be patient. “It is what you make it, Taylor. You can stop comparing our lives and see me for who I am. You can stop looking for me to replace her and start looking to whatever our future ends up. But we can’t continue this way. You want to know why I didn’t immediately tell you I loved you back? I couldn’t. I couldn’t admit to something that terrifies me so much, especially when I’m sitting here, knowing full well you constantly compare me to her. And that you’re this jealous over a guy who is a very good friend, a friend I am now ashamed to admit I have put on the backburner because I was worried about your jealousy.”

Everything I was saying was rushing out of my mouth before I could stop it. I had started speaking and now I couldn’t contain any of my thoughts. I was sick of playing games, sick of hiding my feelings and emotions. I knew who I was and what I wanted, and it wasn’t a bad thing. I had decided after the demise of my last relationship that honesty would be the prime factor of any future ones, but here I had been, slowly shoving down everything I had felt about Taylor’s behavior.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, leaning into the corner of the couch and moving away from me. His hands rested loosely in his lap, his entire lanky frame having lost its will to remain upright. He was a rag doll thoughtlessly heaped into the cushions, begging to be loved.

“Yeah, me too,” I said after a moment. I reached for his hand, weaving my fingers through his and bring his palm to my lips. “I meant what I said, you know. I do love you.”

“I know you do. I love you too.” His sad smile was back, but his fingers squeezed hard against mine, pulling me up to stand in his arms, “And I love your honesty. Just promise me you’ll keep telling me if I’m being a fuck-up and I’ll keep working on it.”

“You’re not a fuck-up. You’re only a man under a lot of stress, trying to sort out a whole lot of emotional bullshit.” I leaned back in his arms, reaching my fingers to brush the bangs out of his eyes. He nodded slowly, pulling me back into his arms, kissing my forehead softly.

“You’re not just another Natalie,” he whispered in my ear, “You are your own amazing person, and I’ve known that from the start.”

He said her name, I thought to myself, saying nothing as we stood holding each other in a tight embrace, he hasn’t said her name in weeks. It’s a good sign, Haley, it’s a sign he’s learning how to deal with this. Maybe he isn’t just another man you spout off at, with no results. Maybe all this time, you’ve been as guilty of judging him as you thought he was of judging you.

So we fell asleep that night, his arms wrapped securely around me, my fingers threaded through his like perfectly laced shoes, each wondering if we really were learning from our mistakes or just throwing them in the closet with all the other forgotten junk, perfectly laced shoes included.

13.

“Have you given any thought to fixing our problem with Ezra?” I found myself asking Taylor over yet another breakfast at my apartment. Not that I ever minded his presence, but Taylor’s morning absence from his son was becoming more and more frequent.

“What problem?”

“That if you stay here you don’t see him. That you being here limits how often you see him,” I said quietly, staring at the rim of my coffee cup as Taylor lowered the Times. We had talked about it only once before, and his answer had been that we would figure something out. But the weeks were fading by, and we hadn’t figured it out yet.

He sighed heavily, folding the paper and letting it fall to the table with a loud slap. “Haley, I just, I can’t come up with anything where everyone wins. I want to be with you and I want to be with my son. And I don’t want to be with Natalie.” His face scrunched up in disgust and he shook his head, “I’ve been thinking of getting another apartment, but with Natalie supposedly going back to Georgia… I love that apartment, and I would rather keep it.”

I nodded, sighing and looking down at my notebook. With the return of school, it was becoming more and more difficult to juggle work, school, and Taylor. I had gone from classes straight to work yesterday, and by the time I got home from work, Taylor had been waiting. There had been enough time for the nightly news, some dinner and a shower before I collapsed, exhausted. Now I had gotten us both up early so I could get in some work before I ran off to do it all over again. As much as I hated to admit it, I couldn’t afford to take the time off from work to spend on my studies or on him. So now I was sitting at my kitchen table, idly sipping my coffee and staring blankly at the notes I had taken the day before. I didn’t want to be studying at eight in the morning; I wanted to still be curled up in the warmth of my sheets with the delicious man across from me, obviously bored with his paper.

It was a pattern we had fallen into. I could count on Taylor waiting for me when I got out of work most nights, and he was thoroughly apologetic if he wasn’t. My nights off were either spent as down time in my apartment, or an attempt at family time with his brothers and son. Thankfully, we avoided his apartment at all costs when together, lest Natalie display her distaste so openly again. But it was nice to have Taylor all those nights, to sleep in his arms; it just made me sad that my joy of waking up to him was diminished with the knowledge of his son’s longing.

When I looked up from my notes, I found Taylor staring at me, the Times still flopped on the table. Well, I wasn’t sure if he was staring at me or through me, his eyes carrying that funny glazed look. When he said nothing, I assumed the latter and flipped another page of my notebook, oh-so-eager to review the propaganda argument for “The Aeneid”.

“Haley, would you consider…” He stopped as suddenly as he started, his fingers wringing themselves together tightly above his forgotten paper. His cheeks had flushed a deep crimson, but his lips were white as he gnawed at them. Where was the perfectly relaxed man from ten minutes ago, happily absorbed in the horrors of the world?

“Would I consider what?”

“Um.” He got out of his chair and walked around to where I sat, draping his arms around my shoulders from behind and leaning closer to my ear. “You know I love you.”

“I love you too,” I replied, completely puzzled. I twisted around in my chair, leaving Vergil for another moment. “What’s up that you’re suddenly so weird?”

“I never thought I’d have to do this again,” he mumbled under his breath, staring at the floor, and then back at me, taking a deep breath. “Ok, so I know we’ve only been together for a few months, and all, and I know you don’t want to be Ezra’s mom, but would you… I mean, could you consider, well if we shared an apartment, it would solve the problem,” he finally blurted out, stepping back from me and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I mean, I’m here all the time, but this is your place… and someplace bigger, you know, so Ezra could have a room, and…” He trailed off, turning the big blue eyes shimmering in fear back at me. “I mean, it’s just a thought and…”

“Well,” I began, laughing nervously. Did he actually just ask me to move in with him? After I finally found an apartment I liked, in a decent part of town? And how did he expect me to pay half of the rent with his rock-star taste? Bigger meant expensive. “Taylor, I… I can barely afford living here.”

He leaned up against the counter, his palms supporting his weight as he looked back to me, his expression hopeful. “Haley… um, money’s really not an issue.”

“Not for you.”

“Well, I know you won’t just let me flat out pay it all, but I mean, we could work something out. You can buy the groceries or something, or pay the cable bill. I know you’re stubborn, and I know you’re proud.” He laughed at the indignant look instantly on my face. But I laughed with him, getting out of my chair and standing before him, enjoying the warmth of his arms around me. “And well, I think it’d be good for you to work a little less, and worry about school more.”

“School or you?” I asked, but my tone was light and playful. To be honest, I was completely thrilled he had asked me to move in with him. There was just the one problem of how often we were going to have his son; a month was certainly not enough time for me to be ready to play mom.

“Both,” he replied, hugging me tighter as I rested my head on his chest, breathing in his lovely smell. But there was that pesky reel of questions playing over and over in my head.

“Um, well, if, I mean if, we do this, how often would we have Ezra?”

His face fell quickly and I wished I had waited a little longer to ask that question. I had wanted a solution and Taylor came up with one. Maybe I shouldn’t have found an instant problem with it. “Well, I guess that’s for a court to decide,” he mumbled, standing up straight again and looking blankly out the window. “It’s going to depend largely on Natalie, and whether she stays here or goes back to Georgia.” He sighed, turning back to me, pulling me closer to him again, “I don’t know Haley. I don’t know if Natalie’s going to let him… in that situation. I don’t want to drag you into this but… it could turn into a mess.”

“Taylor, they will not let her take him from you,” I quickly informed, hugging him in tight reassurance, “There’s no way. You’re way too good of a father.”

“A father who never sees his kid? A father who spends months, if not years, away from home? A father that can’t take him to the playground half the time without being accosted?” He shook his head and forced a bright smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I know what Natalie’s going to say. She’s going to use my career against me, and there’s little I can say to prove her wrong. I can’t stop being a musician.”

“Well, never mind any of that. There are plenty of musicians who have raised their children on top of their careers.”

“And half of them end up in rehab.” He shook his head, frowning deeply and pushing me away, sitting down rigidly at the table again. “There are so many examples of celebrity children gone wrong for her to pull from. And they favor the mother anyway. Natalie comes from a good family, a strong family.”

“And so do you,” I shot back, gently sitting in his lap and draping my arms around his shoulders, “You were raised in a loving home, with great parents. You and your brothers are close. They’re great with Ezra. You’re great with Ezra. I’m guessing your parents are great with him too, if they managed to raise you so well in spite of your success that you didn’t become one of those examples.”

“My parents are in Tulsa. We’re in New York. They don’t factor anymore than Natalie’s family in Georgia. And my brothers might be here, but only when I am. When I go, they go with me. And Ezra is either on the road or with my parents.”

“Well, you’re telling me all these years you’ve had him, Natalie just stays home while you tour?”

“No, actually, she’s always come along. Her and Ezra,” he replied thoughtfully, his face drawing into hope. “You know, that’s a really great point. Even if we hadn’t gotten divorced, Ezra would have been out on the road. Who is she to suddenly turn around and question that parenting? She never opted to stay home and care for him in one place.” He turned a brilliant smile to me, leaning forward to kiss me, “That’s a good point to make to the lawyer.”

“When, uh, when are you actually going to be in court?” I asked nervously, licking my lips and staring at him. I wanted nothing more than for Taylor’s ordeal to end, not that I supposed it would ever really end. I guess I was just looking for a break in the clouds. Not to mention I certainly didn’t entertain the idea of Natalie’s lawyer pointing the finger to me. If this apartment idea flew, I didn’t want to be the reason Taylor didn’t get custody of his son.

“A few months,” he replied after a pause, his face gaining a distant, lost expression again. “I don’t know, it’s all so messy. And New York courts are just so behind that getting it sorted out will take time.” He shrugged, turning his gaze back to me. “So what do you say, I mean, about us and an apartment?”

Shit, I thought to myself, he’s not waiting. He wants this now. “Um, well, we don’t have to decide right this second.”

“Oh.” His face fell back into the dark gloom I had witnessed moments earlier. I instantly felt bad at the disappointment glazing over his features. “Taylor, it’s not that I don’t want it… it’s just… I know I’m the one who’s constantly doubting and pulling back, but I don’t want… I don’t want to fuck this one up, ok?”

“Why are you so sure you’re going to fuck this up, Haley?” he asked quietly, staring down at where my hands sat limply in my lap. He reached for one of my hands, running his fingers down the inside of my palm and lacing his fingers down into mine with a tight squeeze.

“Because it’s gotten fucked up a lot in the past. The last time… the last time I lived with a guy, it ended horribly. I ended up with no place to live, no money to find a new apartment immediately, and on various friends’ couches, with most of my things shipped back to my parents’. It was a nightmare, and the memory hasn’t faded all that quickly,” I told him, my eyes captured by the sight of our fingers entwined. “I just, I’m not sure I’m ready to give up this apartment. I love this apartment, I love it because it’s mine and it’s something I’ve worked for.”

“Would you rather keep this place, Haley? Would you rather just keep paying the rent here, just in case?” he asked after a minute, tipping my chin up to look me in the eyes. “You tell me what you need to do.”

“Oh don’t be silly, that’s insane, to pay for two apartments. I don’t have the money nor the stupidity,” I shot back, looking around the rooms. “Taylor… I just, I love waking up to you. I love the smell of you on the pillow in the morning when I roll over. I love sleeping in your arms. But I also love my space.”

“You know we can get an apartment that has enough space.” He sighed heavily, shifting under my weight and leaning back into the chair. “We’ll just get a place with two offices. One for you, to do your school work and all that, and one for me to take care of my stuff. You go in there, you shut the door, I know to leave you alone. I know you don’t like being compared, but it worked for me and Natalie for a long time.” I must have visibly cringed at the mention of her name, because his heavy sigh was back.

“It sounds lovely, it really does, but I just… I can’t make a decision like that over breakfast.” I shook my head and glanced down at my watch, wondering where the time had gone. So much as for studying today, I thought to myself with a bit of annoyance, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave soon. “I’ve got to get going,” I informed him, kissing his cheek lightly and removing myself from the chair. “Should I expect you tonight?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, but it was distant. He stood with me, watching as I hurriedly packed my bag, shoving my work shirt in with my notebooks and pens. He remained silent as I ran through my mental checklist, turned off the coffee pot and filled the sink with water for the dishes to soak in. Checking one last time for my cell phone in my jacket pocket, I wrapped one of his scarves tightly around my neck as I shouldered my bag. He followed me slowly down the stairs, looking forlorn as we parted ways with a quick kiss.

Arriving right behind the professor, I sank down into a seat, thankful to be on time and out of the cold. Smiling politely at the girl who sat herself beside me, I pulled out my notes and a pen, jumping slightly as I felt the vibration of my phone. It was a text message from Taylor, saying simply ‘I love you’. Touched by the gesture, I quickly sent back a response, then tucked my phone away as the professor began to talk.

All day the morning’s conversation haunted me. I wanted to live with Taylor, I wanted the intimacy and the his and her towels. It wasn’t even that I needed all the space I claimed I did; his idea of separate offices sounded spectacular to me. It was simply that once again, I was afraid where he wasn’t. The question was if my fear, or his lack of, was out of place. It concerned me that a man with a pending divorce didn’t want to take things slowly with the new love in his life, and me? I was guarding a heart that had broken more than a couple times.

But how bad could it be? So what if things didn’t work out between us? No one said I had to spend every last dime I made while I was with him. Even with cutting back my hours at work, I could still make enough to comfortably cover bills so as to feel a form of equality, and have more to stash away. I could call it saving, I could call it a rainy day fund, but it would simply be my security blanket. I would look for the warning signs and be ready when I saw them.

So what was stopping me?

By the time I arrived at work, my head was filled with the dos and don’ts of moving in with Taylor. Dos, I was in love with him, I trusted him, he was a fabulous man who would never fail to be there for me. The don’ts included his pending divorce, the reality of caring for a child part-time, the fear gnawing constantly at me that I was going to come home one day and find my things packed for me.

“Hey,” Shelly greeted as I zoomed from the front to the back of the store, quickly setting down my bag and yanking out my shirt. She leaned up against the wall as I changed, making sure I had pulled out my apron and key-card before hurrying back towards the front to punch in. “What’s gotten into you, mad-woman? And you look like you’re losing weight.”

I shrugged, tucking in my shirt with the key-card caught between my teeth. “Shelly, I’ve been so busy the last few weeks, I don’t have time to eat.” I swiped my card through the computer, punching a few buttons amidst twisting my long hair into an elastic, “You know what my schedule’s like.”

“Yeah, I know.” But she was still staring at me, something thoughtful in her gaze. Looking passed her, I noticed Tara was already on shift, standing at the soda machine listlessly watching a cup fill with Coke. Great, I thought to myself, now the bitchiest fan ever is going to end up over-hearing mine and Taylor’s problem. As I was worrying over that new problem, I realized Shelly was now speaking to me. “There’s something else today. You’re completely gone.”

“Yeah, um, we’ll talk about it later, alright?” I replied with a tight smile, noticing Tara’s glare focusing on me. I wasn’t in the mood for any of it. My lectures had been long and drawn-out, and the wind had whipped bitterly cold as I had walked to and from buildings. The overanalyzing of the moving idea had grated on my nerves from the minute I left my apartment, drowning out important class-room information, and now causing me to drag my feet as I constantly tried to remember diet or regular.

When the evening rush died off, Shelly pulled me aside and attempted to talk to me again. By then, I was wearing more ketchup than makeup, and my legs ached from the running around I had done that day. “So what gives, Haley? This is more than your usual.”

I sighed, glancing around. Tara was close by, but seemed intent on scooping ice cream, constantly flicking her shining red hair over her shoulder. Shaking my head, I wondered how on earth the girl managed to have such perfect hair while doing this job. Maybe it was that she compromised good hair for being poor at her job, I consoled myself, I might look like shit when I leave here, but I did a damn good job. “Taylor asked me to move in with him.”

Unfortunately, Tara’s head snapped up at the mention of his name. Narrowed green eyes paused on my face for a long moment before she returned to scooping, but it was obvious where her attention was now focused. Too aggravated to care, I continued to explain the situation to Shelly, who had quickly moved on to offering congratulations. “Shelly, shush. I don’t know if I can. I mean, school, and here, and I love my apartment. And I’m not ready to be that involved with his son, you know, having him there. Taylor’s talking about having a permanent room for Ezra, I mean, he should, and having him all the time, and… I’m still not ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“Oh, c’mon Haley, you’re never going to let yourself be ready if you keep playing this game. After that last creep, please, just, don’t blame Taylor for another guy’s mistake,” Shelly cautioned, putting one hand on my shoulder. I caught her shooting a rather nasty look in Tara’s direction, but her attention was quickly focused only on me. “If it bothers you this much… you’re not sure of anything. Just think about it before you shoot him down.”

“That’s the thing. When I told him I wanted time to think about it, he acted like I had already said no. He got really sullen this morning,” I explained, catching Tara blatantly staring at me as I spoke. Enough was enough. “Tara, can I help you?” I finally snapped, sending a chilly glare in her direction. “I mean, is there something you need? Or is listening in on my personal conversations just your thing?”

“You don’t deserve him,” she huffed, reaching around me for spoons and slamming them onto her tray, the ice cream showing signs of melting as she had obviously delayed to eavesdrop. “If that man asked me to move in with him, I would say yes without thinking.”

“Which is why he’s in love with me and not with you,” I all but shouted after her, clenching my fists over and over again as Shelly shot me a warning look. I took a deep breath, nodding as she stared hard at me. Her eyes said it all. Tara is not worth losing my job. Tara is not worth making me even more upset. She was a stupid little girl who refused to grasp that I was not her, nor had I ever been in her position. Taylor was not someone I had grown up with, revered, as I listened to him sing me to sleep. I didn’t know who he was when I started dating him – to me he had just been an abnormally beautiful man with a gorgeous smile; I had heard him singing only to himself when I caught him alone, on occasion while he showered. To me, Taylor was just another guy, out to break my heart if I didn’t guard it carefully.

“He was probably just disappointed this morning,” Shelly said after a pause, putting both hands on my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye. “You just think about it, and you tell him what you want when you’re ready. He’s a big boy, Haley, he’ll understand. You go home to him tonight, and you just tell him you need time.”

I nodded, but inside I knew it was useless. Taylor’s sensitivity wasn’t going to go away, and my unsure feelings weren’t either. As I wandered over to my few remaining tables, I did my best to put on a face and just get through my night. But now the anxiety was welling into dread as I thought about Taylor, undoubtedly already comfortable on my couch; I had given him a key after finding him for a week straight shivering in the cold. It had been another one of those awkward moments, where I worried if Taylor made more out of it than it was; had it been summer, I’m not sure he would have gotten that key when he did.

Which made me wonder, if I was second-guessing whether or not I would have even given the man a key to my apartment, why on earth was I considering moving in with him? The usual progression of these things went something like, give him a key, get comfortable with that, get really comfortable with that, and then start to talk about living together.

But having already given him the key, it put a smile on my face most nights to know he was waiting. On particularly bad days, knowing he was there was what got me through; the best nights were when I came home and he had some small surprise for me, whether it be a home-cooked meal or a fresh bouquet of flowers. This was in fact, the only night I had dreaded his presence upon my return.

I hadn’t realized I had walked directly into Tara until I felt the soda dripping down my skin and the loud crash of the glasses going over. When I looked up, her icy glare was waiting. “What is your problem?” she shrilled, throwing her tray onto a counter, hands flying to her hips, “I certainly hope you don’t think I’m cleaning that up. Can’t you watch where the hell you’re going?”

Shelly had come hurrying into the back at the noise and was already coming towards us with the broom and dust pan reserved for broken glass. “Oh, Christ, it was an accident Tara.”

“Yeah right. That bitch… hi, Mike.” Tara’s tone changed as quickly as a traffic light, her syrupy sweet voice lost on Mike as he shook his head.

“What’s with this mess?”

“Haley pushed me,” Tara instantly replied, folding her arms over her chest and smiling smugly. She flipped the ever-so-perfect hair over her shoulder again, shooting me a nasty look over her shoulder. Me, who was on the floor toweling up the soda, me, who had Coke still dripping from her shift sleeves. But the accusation was too much. I was on my feet instantly, brandishing the soaked towels as if they could do any damage.

“That’s ridiculous. How could I have pushed her, and then ended up the one covered in soda?” I shot back, staring helplessly at Mike. C’mon, Mike, see my side of this. See that this girl has been out to get me from the start.

“Haley, in the office,” he replied instead, pointing to the back of the restaurant and marching off. I sighed heavily, glancing down at Shelly. Her expression offered sympathy as she continued to clean up the soda. “Don’t worry about this,” she assured me, nodding toward the back, “Just go see what he wants.”

“Someone’s getting fired,” Tara called after me in a sing-song voice, the level of smugness up a few notches as I walked past her. I only sneered in disgust, violently throwing the towels into the trash as I passed. Whatever Mike wanted, I was next to certain it wasn’t to fire me. He had been on my side through the Tara mess completely; with no proof I had pushed her, mostly because I hadn’t, it would have been uncalled for to fire me.

“What’s up?” I asked as I walked in, tugging at my shirt as the soda stuck to my skin.

“Close the door,” he motioned, pointing to the only other chair in the cramped space, “Have a seat.”

Shit, I thought to myself, spotting the write-up form in front of him. I can’t possibly be getting written up for this. He hasn’t even heard my side of the story. “Mike, I didn’t push her.”

“I know.”

“Then… what’s going on?”

“Well…” He stopped writing, resting his elbow on the slip so as to obscure the name. “What’s going on with you and Tara, Haley? This has been going on for months, and frankly we’re all a little sick of it. It’s over a guy, right?”

“Well, sort of. I mean…”

“No,” he cut in, shaking his head at me. “It is or it isn’t. Look, Haley, you’re a great worker and every thing, but this has got to stop. This is why we encourage you guys to keep your personal stuff at home. I don’t know if this is her ex, or something, or whatever, but it’s got to stop.”

I found myself clenching my fists, gritting my teeth in frustration. I had no problem with Tara previous to her problem with me and Taylor. She had been a shitty worker, but seemed an otherwise nice girl, one I had been willing to give the benefit of the doubt. “Mike, I didn’t start this. I don’t participate in it. It’s just… who my boyfriend is bothers Tara and has from the beginning, and it’s nothing I can change. As long as I’m with him, she’s going to hate me.”

Mike crossed his arms over his chest, giving me a stern look. I hated how even though he was two years older than me, he could make me feel an inch tall with his disapproval. I also hated how I was actually feeling at fault here, especially as the soda dried and my clothing began to stick to me. “I don’t care who he is, Haley. This has got to stop.”

“Mike, it won’t. I’m telling you. This girl is obsessed with him.”

“So call the cops. Sounds like stalking. Is that what it is, Haley?” Mike suddenly seemed concerned, clasping his hands together and leaning forward in earnest. “Haley, I’ll call them myself right now. If that girl is putting you in any danger…”

“No, no, it’s not like that,” I cut in, sighing heavily. Glancing toward the door, wondering to myself if there were more than one set of ears pressed up against it, I turned back to Mike. “It’s not stalking. She’s a fan of his.”

“Oh, so he’s some sort of musician or actor or something? Local band?”

“Not quite.” I winced, dreading telling Mike this. He was right; for the most part, it was better to keep my life out of my job. Tara knew who he was, but to her credit, kept her commentary to me. The other girls, beside Shelly, didn’t know who he was, or if they did, they didn’t let on. “Do remember that band Hanson?”

“The ones that looked like girls? Yeah, I remember them… oh!” Realization dawned quickly on Mike as he gaped at me. “Oh, god, Haley, that’s uh… of all the famous people you could meet in New York…”

“Thanks Mike.” But I had to laugh at the good-natured tone he took on, though he still looked like he didn’t know what to do with this information. “But, um, that’s the problem. Tara is a fan and I’m dating her dream guy. And every time she over hears me talking about him to Shelly, or he stops in, she makes a fuss.”

“I guess just simply not mentioning him here, or telling him not to come in, isn’t an option.”

“Not really.”

Mike was silent for a long moment, gazing thoughtfully at me. “How did you meet this guy anyway? His name’s Taylor, right?”

“Yeah. You, uh, remember the guy me and Shelly always drooled over?”

“The married one?”

“Yeah. That’s uh, that’s him.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Mike shook his head, staring at me in disbelief. “He’s famous and married.”

“He’s getting divorced. And Tara blames me for it.”

“Well, shit, Haley… if it walks like a duck, chances are it’s a duck.”

“It’s not like that Mike. Please, I wouldn’t do that. You know me. He’s been in the process of getting a divorce since the first time we went out.” I sighed heavily, staring down at my soaked shirt. Talking about Taylor was making me anxious to get out of work and get home. Whether I had an answer for him when I got there was irrelevant. The simple matter was I missed him, and I wanted him to make this awful day end on a good note.

He nodded thoughtfully and moved him arm. The write-up sheet had Tara’s name on it, not mine. “Send Tara in when you go out,” he said after a moment, glancing over at me, “I’m writing her up. I know you didn’t push her and I’m sick of her attitude.”

“Thanks.” I paused with my hand on the door knob, the slow realization of the entire situation falling on my shoulders. “Um, just one other thing. Can I get a cut in my hours? Twenty-five, thirty at the most?”

Mike turned and looked over at me, a puzzled expression on his face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Haley, but how can you afford that?”

I shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze, “I found a cheaper apartment. But is that ok?”

He nodded slowly, suspicion all over his features. “You just moved into that apartment though not that long ago. Are you sure you want to move again?” His pointed look revealed he had figured it out. Bless Mike, I knew he wouldn’t say anything, but he had figured it out, and it was obvious he didn’t approve.

“Yeah,” I replied, a smile working its way across my face, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright, well, just give me a week or two to find people to cover your hours, maybe get another girl trained or something. Two weeks, you’ll get your hours cut back. Is that alright?”

“That’s great. Thanks.”

“No problem. Hey, why don’t you just get going, alright? I’ll help the girls finish up.” Mike offered me a reassuring smile, making shooing motions. “I assume you’ve got some packing to do.”

I nodded, the glee working its way through my veins. It didn’t hurt to see the indignant look on Tara’s face as I grabbed my coat and bag, a broad smile plastered on my face as I informed her Mike needed to see her. With a brilliant grin for Shelly, I was out the door, hurrying along the cold street to my apartment. I wanted to be home right then and there, I wanted to tell Taylor I had made a decision, and then I wanted to take a hot bath and lay in bed with him. With the next night off from work anyway, and two lectures where attendance didn’t matter to look forward to, I was strongly considering spending the morning in bed and the afternoon looking at apartments. It felt impulsive, but it felt really good, and with a decision in hand, I actually felt certain about it. Now all that remained was telling Taylor.

Turning my key in the lock, I looked up from the street to see the lights on. Sure enough, Taylor was already there. I smiled to myself, glancing down at my phone for the time. It wasn’t even ten yet, and I was home. Giddy to share my news, and spend the evening with him, I hurried up the stairs.