On a Night Like This by Ellen Sussman

her, but he hated more the idea of a man who was let in when he couldn’t sit by her side, a man by her side, eating salmon for dinner, sharing it with Sweetpea.
    “My boss. A man I love—”
    “Your boyfriend?”
    “He’s gay. Christ. Everyone’s gay.”
    “I’m not gay.”
    “Yeah. I noticed. Now listen. So Sweetpea charms Daniel, an impossible thing, no one charms Daniel except Daniel, and we all eat salmon, and then Daniel leaves and I lie down to rest and Sweetpea jumps in bed, cuddles up right next to me—”
    “Which side of the bed?”
    “What?”
    “Which side of the bed? Left or right?”
    “I’m on the right side. Why?”
    “Go on.”
    “And she throws one paw over my waist. Like a lover. And she breathes her salmon breath in my ear.”
    “I know.”
    “Does she sleep in your bed?”
    “No. Not for a while.”
    “You were married?”
    “I was married. Sweetpea loved Emily. When Emily left, she stopped sleeping on the bed. She sleeps on the floor. On Emily’s side of the bed.”
    “The right side.”
    “Yes, the right side.”
    “What happened to Emily?”
    “I don’t know. She just disappeared one day. I’m still trying to figure it out.”
    “You don’t know why?”
    “No. How can you think your life is good and then one day someone tells you it was all a lie?”
    “Why was it a lie?”
    “She walked out. Without telling me. In the middle of my happy life.”
    “She wasn’t happy.”
    “And I thought we were doing fine. That’s the lie I was living with, I guess.”
    Blair was quiet for a moment. Luke could hear her breathing in the phone and he pulled up his blanket, as if drawing her closer to him.
    “Maybe you weren’t paying attention,” she said finally. Gently. As if she didn’t want to hurt him.
    Luke sighed. “I thought I wasn’t one of those guys. My work is different. Writing makes you pay attention. But maybe I fooled myself. Typical guy dressed in sensitive guy’s clothes.”
    “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about those clothes.”
    “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
    “You’ve been in the woods too long. You look like a mountain man.”
    “I didn’t know I was going to stay in the city this long,” Luke told her. “I thought I was driving in for the night.”
    “What made you stay?”
    “The Search for Lost Souls.”
    “Mine or yours?”
    “Touché.”
    “You found me. So now why are you staying?”
    “My dog is missing. I can’t go anywhere without my dog.”
    “Can she spend the night? I think I’ll sleep better if she’s here.”
    “Of course she can spend the night. I wouldn’t think of taking her away from you.”
    “Thank you. She’s kind of a comfort.”
    “You could ask a human being for comfort, you know.”
    “I’m not a very big girl about being sick.”
    “I noticed.”
    “And I don’t have many friends.”
    “Why not?”
    “Work. Raising a daughter alone. I never seemed to have the time or the inclination.”
    “Where’s the father?”
    “Beats me.”
    “Ancient history?”
    “Real ancient. He was a cute guy I hung out with once; he moved on; I got pregnant.”
    “Does he know? That he has a daughter?”
    “He wouldn’t even remember my name. If I found him. If I cared.”
    “Does she?”
    “We play a game. We invent fathers. We sit in a café and watch the guys go by and choose one to be Father for a Day. We invent his life, his loves, his fatherly habits. And we watch him disappear from our lives at the end of the game.”
    “She likes this game?”
    “She loves me. I’m enough for her.”
    “How was she at the hospital?” Luke had left before she arrived—Blair had wanted it that way.
    “Scared. Hiding it. Family tradition.”
    “Can I bring you breakfast in bed?”
    Blair was quiet. Luke waited, but she didn’t say anything.
    “I didn’t ask if you’d marry me. I asked about breakfast. Croissant. Coffee. That sort of thing.”
    “Why are you doing this?”
    “I don’t know.”