but obviously they'd only been quietly regrouping to muster up the means for a last-ditch attempt at shredding my sanity by dropping Nate, solid and real, right in the middle of my path.
And I couldn't decide whether running to him or simply running away was better form.
Opting to concentrate, as best I could, on work for the moment instead, I closed out of my email without sending a response.
Thirty seconds later, I opened it again and typed Yes .
Honestly, I'm surprised I lasted that long.
***
A series of short, polite email exchanges landed us at a downtown coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon.
I arrived ten minutes early to scope it out and to be seated when he arrived, in case my knees decided to stop functioning at the sight of him; it had been fairly touch and go when he'd appeared in the clinic, and I didn't want to take any chances with sudden solubility.
He breezed in right on the dot, windswept from the funnels of wind that regularly tore through the maze of downtown architecture, his face lighting up when he caught sight of me seated in the corner. I waved from my table by the window as he walked over, vivid in dark blue stripes, sunglasses perched atop his head, his cheekbones and the slide of his nose rubicund from the warm summer sun, and I quietly congratulated myself for having the foresight to sit down first.
We shook hands, just as we had the first day we'd met, which seemed absurd, given everything that had gone down between us, but I wasn't sure I could handle anything else anyway, or what was actually appropriate to do when getting reacquainted with someone you'd had sex with while on vacation.
Should've Googled it before I left the house.
After we both got our coffees, he asked, "How have you been?"
"Uh, good," I said, though why I bothered lying was anyone's guess. Deserted at my own wedding, falling into bed with a near stranger, rediscovering sentiments I thought I had buried under six feet of cement long ago, said stranger suddenly popping up again out of nowhere -- I wasn't good, I was flummoxed.
"Yeah, well," Nate said, smiling softly. "You look good."
"That's probably because I realized one day I was getting direct debited for a gym I didn't even remember signing up for and went to recoup my losses. It's always nice not giving away money for free," I rambled.
He smiled some more. "Looks like it's working out really nicely for you."
"Um," I said, feeling my face get warm. I fiddled with the handle of my oversized coffee mug and tried for normal conversation that didn't involve me. "How long did you say you're in town for?"
"Uh, a while," Nate hedged. He rubbed the back of his neck, an abashed move, and glanced at me from under his lashes. "I just moved here last month."
I'm not sure what kind of utterance I had intended on making, maybe something unflappably urbane like Why, that's wonderful news! We simply must get together for cocktails once you're settled in . But even the best intentions had no chance at stifling what essentially emerged from my throat as a tight gurgle.
It was not a sound I looked forward to making again in polite company, but I could hardly be blamed for my lack of composure. I mean, I had only just come to terms with what my life was, with the fact that there was a Nate somewhere out there in the world leaving swoons in his whirlwind wake, and that world wasn't mine.
And then I had, with what I thought considerable sangfroid, accepted that the strange whims of the Nate somewhere out in the world were just flitting him, by the law of probabilities, temporarily past my path again.
I wasn't prepared, however, to deal with the Nate somewhere out in the world whose somewhere was permanently here.
Nate gave me an anxious glance. "Look, I'm not stalking you or anything, I promise. I didn't even know you lived here until I had to bring Abby to your clinic the other day."
"Right, yes," I said, nodding even though I was too illequipped to properly suppress my bewilderment.
"And then
And I couldn't decide whether running to him or simply running away was better form.
Opting to concentrate, as best I could, on work for the moment instead, I closed out of my email without sending a response.
Thirty seconds later, I opened it again and typed Yes .
Honestly, I'm surprised I lasted that long.
***
A series of short, polite email exchanges landed us at a downtown coffee shop on a Saturday afternoon.
I arrived ten minutes early to scope it out and to be seated when he arrived, in case my knees decided to stop functioning at the sight of him; it had been fairly touch and go when he'd appeared in the clinic, and I didn't want to take any chances with sudden solubility.
He breezed in right on the dot, windswept from the funnels of wind that regularly tore through the maze of downtown architecture, his face lighting up when he caught sight of me seated in the corner. I waved from my table by the window as he walked over, vivid in dark blue stripes, sunglasses perched atop his head, his cheekbones and the slide of his nose rubicund from the warm summer sun, and I quietly congratulated myself for having the foresight to sit down first.
We shook hands, just as we had the first day we'd met, which seemed absurd, given everything that had gone down between us, but I wasn't sure I could handle anything else anyway, or what was actually appropriate to do when getting reacquainted with someone you'd had sex with while on vacation.
Should've Googled it before I left the house.
After we both got our coffees, he asked, "How have you been?"
"Uh, good," I said, though why I bothered lying was anyone's guess. Deserted at my own wedding, falling into bed with a near stranger, rediscovering sentiments I thought I had buried under six feet of cement long ago, said stranger suddenly popping up again out of nowhere -- I wasn't good, I was flummoxed.
"Yeah, well," Nate said, smiling softly. "You look good."
"That's probably because I realized one day I was getting direct debited for a gym I didn't even remember signing up for and went to recoup my losses. It's always nice not giving away money for free," I rambled.
He smiled some more. "Looks like it's working out really nicely for you."
"Um," I said, feeling my face get warm. I fiddled with the handle of my oversized coffee mug and tried for normal conversation that didn't involve me. "How long did you say you're in town for?"
"Uh, a while," Nate hedged. He rubbed the back of his neck, an abashed move, and glanced at me from under his lashes. "I just moved here last month."
I'm not sure what kind of utterance I had intended on making, maybe something unflappably urbane like Why, that's wonderful news! We simply must get together for cocktails once you're settled in . But even the best intentions had no chance at stifling what essentially emerged from my throat as a tight gurgle.
It was not a sound I looked forward to making again in polite company, but I could hardly be blamed for my lack of composure. I mean, I had only just come to terms with what my life was, with the fact that there was a Nate somewhere out there in the world leaving swoons in his whirlwind wake, and that world wasn't mine.
And then I had, with what I thought considerable sangfroid, accepted that the strange whims of the Nate somewhere out in the world were just flitting him, by the law of probabilities, temporarily past my path again.
I wasn't prepared, however, to deal with the Nate somewhere out in the world whose somewhere was permanently here.
Nate gave me an anxious glance. "Look, I'm not stalking you or anything, I promise. I didn't even know you lived here until I had to bring Abby to your clinic the other day."
"Right, yes," I said, nodding even though I was too illequipped to properly suppress my bewilderment.
"And then
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