Chapter 8

Da Vinci stopped licking himself and looked over at Andrew suspiciously. The cat liked his routines, and this was TV-and-grading-papers time — not stare-at-the-phone-for-a-few-silent-minutes time.

Andrew’s eyes flicked back over from the cat next to him on the couch to the text he was having trouble processing.

Hey!:) Did I see you at moonlight the other night??

Mal’s profile picture winked up at him.

Above it was the last text she’d sent him, over two years ago. She’d asked him if he was coming to the meeting between their attorneys. He hadn’t gone and he hadn’t responded.

But ... he kind of wanted to now, even though he knew very well what just seeing her had done to him, sending him into a spiral of self-destruction and self-loathing.

Maybe it was the dumb, black-and-white sci-fi movie he had on in the background that he liked to use as noise to fill the vacuum while he graded papers. Mal had never liked them, even as silly filler. He knew from their still-shared Netflix account that her preferred noisemaker was more along the lines of reality TV.

Even so, it brought back the moments she’d chided him, rolled her eyes at cardboard sets and cheesy dialogue, even while staying to do her own work next to him on the couch. Andrew knew he was self-selecting the good parts of his memory ... but didn’t the good parts happen, too?

When he closed his eyes, he could still see her, smell her, feel her against him, the two of them barely out of college with the world in front of them, just waiting to be tamed. She’d always been daring, and had always had that irresistible, electric smile and eyes that drew you in, no matter who you were. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end just thinking about it.

They’d met in college, and she was way out of his league. But Mal paid attention to him, enjoyed his company. They hung out at the college radio station — either proper hipsters or just wannabes, he wasn’t sure anymore.

He remembered the thrill of her grinding into him while he was in the on-air booth late at night, how she’d unzipped his pants right there under the desk — that deviously adventurous smirk sending shivers up his body even now — while a few others were in the office outside the door. It was the first time anyone had ever given him a blowjob. The grin on her face never went away, practically vibrating and humming on its own. Nobody had a smile like hers.

And she’d picked him.

Haha yeah

It wasn’t her spontaneous sexuality that he missed though — although yes, he did miss that a little.

She was always on, like she was always playing a part for someone — including for him. He knew that. He’d known that even before they’d gotten married. Only, he ... he thought he’d known where the character ended and she began.

Turns out, I don’t think even she knows.

What he missed were the moments she couldn’t fake. The way she would cling to him at night when she was barely awake, nuzzling closer to him. That hadn’t been an act. He was sure of it. She really did love him, probably right up until the end.