Page 14 of Every Wrong Reason


  “I’m glad we share the same philosophy,” Eli said seriously.

  “I can’t lie, mine’s more about me being late every morning. I never have time to stop.”

  He threw his head back and laughed while I admired the strong column of his throat. God, I needed this. I needed to breathe a little and forget about the insanity of my divorce.

  His gaze found mine again and with a sweetness I didn’t think still existed in the male race, said, “Can I drive you? I’ll swing you back by the school to pick up your car.”

  I paused for a second so I wouldn’t trip over my tongue. “Yes.”

  We chatted about our days and the school year so far as we dropped off my bags at my car then walked to his. My heart started to beat triple time and I was feeling a little sweaty.

  Eli and I had been friends for so long that I shouldn’t feel this nervous. I only half paid attention to the small talk during our short car ride because inside I couldn’t stop freaking out long enough to focus on any one thing.

  The entire drive to the coffee shop, my stomach churned anxiously, my mouth dried out and my palms started to itch. I fidgeted in the high bench seat of his truck but tried desperately not to be obvious.

  He had to think I was crazy already. I didn’t need to fuel his opinion of me.

  Yet, he’d asked me out.

  And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

  I had a tendency to overthink everything. And so, during the few moments I wasn’t obsessing over my own miserable life and divorce, I had thought about Eli and whether anything would progress with us. I hadn’t really thought he’d ask me out so soon, but I knew there was chemistry between us. Kara had left enough hints that I had started to prepare myself mentally for the day that he would ask me out.

  But I hadn’t expected it today.

  I thought he’d wait until my divorce was finalized and I’d had a little more separation from my husband than six measly months. I thought we’d continue to build a relationship slowly, enjoying friendship first and then, in the future, in the far, distant future, we’d naturally fall into something romantic.

  Maybe.

  If I ever got over the trauma of seven years of bad luck, er, my marriage.

  And yet, he’d asked me today. Today, when I realized, that in all likelihood, I would have to spend the next several months in mediation with my not-yet-ex-husband. Today when all I wanted to do was go home, put my feet up and pour a bottle of wine into a fishbowl and drink it with a straw.

  Maybe I didn’t even need the fishbowl.

  Maybe I would guzzle it straight from the bottle.

  That sounded so much easier.

  I was nothing if not practical.

  “Are you listening?” Eli’s dark gaze cut to mine.

  I ruined any semblance of interest I had when I stupidly asked, “Huh?”

  He looked down at his oversized cup of coffee and smiled into the black depths. Eli had brought me to a rustic, mountain-cabin-esque coffee house that was cute in the I-just-shot-a-twelve-point-buck kind of way. He drank his coffee bitter, dark as midnight and endlessly. I liked milk and sugar. I liked fru-fru and beverages that didn’t give me heartburn. I wanted whipped cream. Lots of whipped cream. When I ordered my latte, the cashier looked at me like I’d just asked for liquid skunk. “You sure?” he said. As if I would reconsider my order and pick battery acid instead.

  But in the end I did. I was too self-conscious to go through with it. “Just a regular coffee, then,” I mumbled. “And some milk.”

  I shouldn’t be that hard on the place, though. Despite my rough introduction, Eli had led me to oversized leather chairs that I could squish back in and tuck my feet beneath me. Now that we were leaned in close in our respective chairs, chatting over warm coffee while a light rain pelted the gloomy October afternoon, I felt more relaxed about the place- even if my bitter beverage was melting my insides.

  Except I ruined the potentially romantic moment by letting my mind drift.

  “I’m sorry,” I told him honestly. “I just… I don’t have an excuse.”

  I was too embarrassed to look at him, but I heard the forgiveness in his voice when he said, “Yes you do. You’ve got a lot going on.”

  I lifted my gaze shyly. “I hate that I always make our conversations about me and my problems.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I like talking about you.”

  His words brought a fierce blush to my face, which I took as a good sign. See? I was interested in Eli. I liked his compliments. I liked his attention.

  But then all of that was ruined when a rolling wave of nausea crashed through me and I thought I would be sick.

  I swallowed back strong coffee and a hell of a lot of half-and-half and gave him a trembling smile. “Thank you for taking me out for coffee even if I’ve failed at conversation.”

  He watched me for long moments. Something flashed in his eyes, dimming them slightly. I didn’t know him well enough to name every one of his emotions, but I was pretty sure this one could be called disappointment.

  I nibbled on my lip self-consciously and tried to think of something to talk about.

  “Has your school year improved?” he asked before I could say anything.

  I threw myself into paying attention to him. “A little. I think the junior class is trying to get me to retire early. Really early. Possibly by Christmas break. But other than that it’s mostly battling freshman to remember everything they need for class and going to war with seniors who think they’re graduating tomorrow instead of in May.”

  “Your year sounds a lot like mine,” he chuckled. “The juniors this year are something special.”

  “You would think I knew what to expect since I’ve had them for the last two years. But they are pulling out all the stops this quarter. Actually, I have one class with both juniors and seniors that is truly a challenge. I had to break up a fight yesterday over some HBO show. I thought they were going to send each other to the hospital.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Jay Allen and Andre Gonzalez.” He nodded at me sympathetically. “If those two boys were able to combine their egos, I think they would usher in Armageddon. I’ve never had such egotistical maniacs in class at the same time before. It’s out of control.”

  Eli let out a bark of laughter and leaned forward. His fingers brushed mine, but I had to be honest with myself and say I didn’t feel a single tingle or butterfly.

  This was too soon for me.

  That was abundantly clear.

  “They really are something else,” he agreed. “If they both make it to graduation, it will be a miracle.”

  That sobered me some. “I hope they do. Those two kids need high school diplomas. I don’t want to think of what their futures hold if they drop out.”

  He canted his head and the corners of his lips drew down. “They might find a future like that anyway.”

  I took a deep breath and pressed my lips together to keep from agreeing with him. This was the price we paid as teachers. It didn’t matter whether we worked in an inner-city school or a wealthy private one in the suburbs, we could invest everything we had in our students and they could still throw their lives away after graduation. We could give them every single thing in our educational arsenal, and they could still make poor decisions that ruined any chance of a successful future they had.

  That was the problem with caring so deeply for the kids I taught. I wasn’t really responsible for them. I had no control over their lives or the decisions they made. I gave and gave and gave and then hoped and hoped and hoped they learned something from me.

  Eli downed the rest of his coffee and set his cup down on the small table that sat between us. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

  I clutched my huge, gray mug with both hands. “Thanks for inviting me.”

  We were silent an awkward beat too long when he said, “You’re not ready for this.”

  My eyes snapped up and widened at him. “What?”


  His voice pitched low and soft, “I, uh, I thought you might be, you know, ready for something. You’re not. That’s okay. Obviously it’s okay. I just read this wrong. I wanted to apologize.”

  “No, it’s not that I’m not ready… Well, I wouldn’t say that I am ready. But I’m not… not ready. I just… I don’t know… What I’m trying to say is…” I stopped talking. That was getting neither of us anywhere. I took a deep breath and met his steady gaze again. “Okay, maybe I’m not ready.”

  He chuckled and I wanted to die, except that his eyes were twinkling again and his smile looked genuine. “You’re not ready, Kate. I’m sorry I pushed you.”

  “If I’m honest, I didn’t know you were pushing me. I thought I was… you know… ready to move on.”

  “It’s okay.” His hand landed on mine and he squeezed. “I had unrealistic expectations I suppose.”

  “Was it that easy for you to move on? I mean, it’s only been six months. We were married for seven years. But I guess you were married for longer than that, huh?”

  His warm eyes looked like melting chocolate when they filled with sympathy for me. “By the time Naomi and I separated both of us were more than ready to move on. We had spent so many years at each other’s throats and wishing for change, that when we finally walked away from each other, both of us found peace we hadn’t known in a very long time. I think that made moving on easier.”

  “Oh.” My thoughts tumbled together. Hadn’t the same been true for Nick and me? Was it just me that was having such a hard time moving on?

  “That doesn’t mean dating is easier than it was before. It’s definitely as bad as I remember.”

  I smiled at him. “You still want to settle down with someone? Even after your first marriage?”

  He didn’t hesitate, “Definitely. Naomi and I weren’t right for each other, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong for everyone or everyone’s wrong for me. There’s someone out there for me.”

  “There is someone out there for you,” I told him honestly. “You’re a good guy, Eli. I’m sorry this didn’t work out.”

  He cleared his throat and murmured thoughtfully, “Me too.”

  I stood up after that. I didn’t know what else to say. Unlike Eli, I didn’t have the same perspective. My marriage wrecked me. I couldn’t do that to myself again. I didn’t want to.

  The thought of going through that much pain again terrified me.

  I was positive I wouldn’t survive it.

  And frankly, I couldn’t hurt someone again like I’d hurt Nick.

  Eli stood up too and his hand settled on my shoulder, but it was filled with nothing but friendly affection. At least on my part.

  “I’ll take you back to school so you can get your car,” he offered.

  “Thanks.”

  We parted ways on good terms. I didn’t think there was enough interest on his part for him to be truly upset that I hadn’t wanted more. And honestly, I hadn’t known I didn’t want more with him until we went out.

  Eli was all the things that I thought I wanted. He was thoughtful. He was attentive. He tried. But even after all of that, if I was truly honest with myself, he was everything that I wanted and still not what I wanted.

  I drove home wondering if things would have been different if he’d given me more time or if I had been more willing to let go of the marriage I thought I couldn’t wait to get out of.

  I wondered how long it would take for me to get over Nick. If I’d ever be ready to move on.

  I wondered if I’d ever heal.

  If I’d ever find myself again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  20. He won’t apologize.

  The next week hailed Halloween and I was in the worst funk of my life. The divorce hadn’t moved forward. Nick was being difficult as ever and I hadn’t had the energy to fight him. Eli hadn’t just backed off pursuing me; he’d backed off everything. I felt like I lost a friend and that hurt worse than I was willing to admit.

  In fact, loneliness had set in like concrete ankle blocks and I was worried that if just one more thing went wrong in my life, I’d tip off the end of a dock and sink to the bottom of an endless ocean.

  Was that too dramatic?

  Maybe. But I also knew that I had never felt this profoundly alone before.

  I left home at eighteen and moved straight into a college dorm that I shared with Fiona for four years. I had spent summers in cheap apartments with friends. The year after graduation, while I planned my wedding, I lived with my parents. And then obviously I moved in with Nick. For better or worse, he’d been my constant roommate for my entire adult life.

  I had never lived on my own. I had never really been on my own before.

  I knew eventually I would grow used to it. At first it was even kind of fun, maybe a little weird, but mostly fun. I could do whatever I wanted without consulting another person. But it quickly stopped being shiny and new and the loneliness crept up on me. It coated the house that I loved and tainted my activities.

  School became my life because when I left there, I knew I would have to go home to an empty house and have no one to tell about my day or share my struggles except Annie. And she rarely shared her opinion.

  Sure, there was Kara, but even my best friend felt distanced by my issues. Besides, she had her own life to live. As close as we were, our entire relationship had revolved around my marriage. She always bent her schedule to meet my needs, to hang out when I didn’t have any other plans.

  Now I was on the other side of that.

  Her life didn’t revolve around me. I could understand that.

  It was just hard when my life had revolved around someone else.

  Now I felt lost. Adrift in a storm haunted sea.

  A sunflower in a sunless sky. A flower that had no light to tilt my face to.

  A year ago I had been so excited for Halloween. It really was one of the best holidays. It was all for fun. There were never family obligations to fulfill or gifts to buy or pies to bake. I could just celebrate something without extra stress.

  Plus, I had always thought it was a great way to kick off the holiday season.

  Until this year.

  Halloween fell on a Saturday and I had no plans. Not even one.

  Well, unless you counted the invitation from Kara to be a third wheel on her third date with the guy she met at her gym.

  No, thanks.

  They were headed to some super fun party and I couldn’t even muster enough energy to put shoes on.

  I adjusted my cat ear headband and slumped down on the bench in my entryway. A huge bowl of candy sat in my lap and it was taking every ounce of self-control I had left not to tear into the wrapped sugar and flood my house with wrappers.

  Apparently I’d jumped from the Divorce Diet to the Divorce-Eat-My-Weight-In-Chocolate Plan.

  Which sounded awesome at this point.

  The doorbell rang and I jumped, even though I had been expecting it. I moved to the door and pulled it open, ready for the trick-or-treating brigade I knew would be flooding my doorstep.

  “Trick or treat,” Nick grinned at me.

  I tried to hide my surprise while Annie danced around his feet and licked at his shins. “I’m supposed to give you candy.” I eyed the bags he held in his arms and tried to decide if I should be furious or burst into tears.

  He shrugged one shoulder casually, “I wanted to donate to the cause.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  He took a step inside the house even though I hadn’t invited him. “This used to be my house too. I guess I’m not quite ready to give up our neighbors yet.”

  I let out a weary sigh, “It’s still your house. At least until you sign the papers.”

  I thought he would snap at me or start a fight. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and smiled. “Are you a mouse?”

  “I’m a cat!” I adjusted the stupid headband I’d picked up at the gas station this morning and tried not to grimace.

  “
Oh.”

  “What does that mean? Oh? And what are you? A robber?”

  He shook his head and grinned wider. “The Hamburglar. Obviously.”

  “The Hamburglar?”

  “From McDonald’s. Remember?”

  “Oh, the mask. And the weird hat. I get it.”

  He took another step until he could close the door behind him. “You don’t seem impressed.”

  I’m wondering how you make that costume look so good… “I’m confused.”

  “About?”

  “Why are you here, Nick?”

  “This conversation again? Honestly, Katie, did we talk about anything besides my location when we were married?”

  I wanted to punch him. Instead, I stepped back, away from him and his cologne and that adorable costume and the bags of candy in his hands. If he could change topics without warning, so could I. “I thought you would have a gig tonight.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not in the band anymore, remember?”

  “Like at all? I thought that was just a temporary thing?” Something warm bloomed inside of me. It grew hotter the longer I stared at him. Hotter and hotter until it was boiling inside of me, until it was lava and magma and the temperature of the sun.

  The doorbell rang, interrupting our conversation. He opened it because he was closest and smiled down at the little kids dressed up as a robot and a dinosaur while simultaneously holding Annie back with his foot. She wanted to charge the kids. They looked like they wanted to run away screaming in terror.

  My guard dog.

  All twenty pounds of her.

  Nick dropped his bags of unopened candy on the bench I had just been sitting on and grabbed handfuls of candy from my bowl.

  I stood there dumbstruck. What was happening?

  After they left, he closed the screen door but left the big door open. “I’m not in the band anymore, Kate. They found another lead singer.”

  “Oh my gosh, were you pissed?”

  He threw a smile over his shoulder as he grabbed more candy for the next round of trick-or-treaters. “I sold them my old amps and gave them my blessing. I, uh, retired.”