That with him, she wouldn’t feel so broken.
And as she drove home the following morning, all she could think about was how she wished she had put it off just a little longer, because she wasn’t ready to let go of Adam yet.
But now that she’d felt it, the palpable emptiness as she gave herself to him, she knew it was over. She couldn’t bring herself to do it again. Lauren had tried that method in the past: giving it time, trying to push past it, to work around it, attempting to make herself feel something other than the void that sex created for her. But it was almost degradin@he didleasig, going through the motions, letting a man do things to her body while her mind and her heart felt completely detached.
Maybe she just needed to accept the fact that she was one of those people who couldn’t become emotionally invested in sex. Maybe she was incapable of bridging the gap between her heart and her body. Maybe this was as good as it was going to get for her.
Lauren might have been able to believe that about herself if she couldn’t still remember what it was like to be with Michael. But she could still call to mind the indescribable feeling: something far beyond just physical sensation. Something that had been so powerful, so completely consuming, it moved her to tears.
And somehow, realizing she might never feel that way again was more painful than believing she was incapable of feeling it to begin with.
With a deep breath, Lauren walked back to the stove. She shouldn’t be thinking about that night with Michael.
She shouldn’t be thinking about Michael at all, for that matter.
And with that, she picked up the cutting board and slid the chopped vegetables into the pan, letting the subsequent sizzle temporarily wash away the two men who were battling for control of her thoughts.
She ate her dinner on the couch, distracting herself with an old sitcom rerun, and afterward, as she was loading the dishwasher, her phone rang again.
With a little lump of dread in her stomach, Lauren leaned over and checked the display. When she saw that it was Jenn, she felt only marginally relieved.
She didn’t feel like having this conversation either, but there was no avoiding it. If she sent Jenn to voice mail, she’d just keep calling back.
With a tiny sigh, Lauren hit the button to take the call, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she continued rinsing dishes.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Just cleaning up from dinner. You?”
“Driving home from a late meeting. Total pain in my ass,” Jenn sighed. “How was your date last night? Did you finally put out?”
Lauren took a breath. Might as well get it over with. “Yes.”
“You did!” Jenn laughed. “Oh my God, I was only kidding! Well, it’s about time. Adam’s probably skipping through the streets whistling zip-a-dee-doo-dah as we speak.”
A tiny laugh escaped Lauren’s lips.
“Sooo, how was it? Worth the wait?”
She knew what Jenn was going to accuse her of: trying to get out before things got too serious. She wouldn’t understand, but then again, how could she?
“I don’t think it’s going to work out,” Lauren said as she closed the door to the dishwasher.
“No!” Jenn whined. “Lauren, don’t do this! Come on, are you telling me the sex was that bad?”
“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just…not what I expected.”
“So? It was your first time with him! You need a little time to learn each other. Give the poor guy a break.”
“It’s not about the sex,” Lauren said. “It’s more about…I don’t know. The connection.”
“The connection,” Jenn deadpanned.
“I just, I d@he didleasion’t feel it. I can’t keep sleeping with a guy I don’t feel connected to.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone, and for a second, Lauren thought maybe Jenn was sympathizing with her this time. But then her voice came through the phone, tinged with anger.
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?” Lauren said, confused.
“You’re doing it again. Only this time it’s worse. You’re not doing it because of him. You’re doing it for him.”
Lauren shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
This was not how this conversation usually went. Jenn was supposed to be reprimanding her for her commitment issues, complaining about her fear of settling down. And while Jenn would usually sound disappointed during these rants, she never once sounded angry the way she did right now.
“Really? You’re gonna make me say it?” she challenged. “Michael, Lauren. You’re doing it for Michael.”
Lauren opened her mouth to respond, but nothing would come out.
“You’re falling in love with him again, aren’t you.”
It was more of a statement than a question, like she didn’t need Lauren’s answer to confirm it.
“I knew this was going to happen!” Jenn cried at Lauren’s extended silence. “Goddamn it, Lauren!”
“So what if I am?” Lauren blurted out. She didn’t even know if there was any truth to what Jenn said, but she suddenly felt extremely defensive.
“You’re really asking me that?” Jenn said, her voice incredulous. “After what he did to you? I can’t believe you’d be this stupid!”
Lauren ripped the phone from her ear and ended the call, slamming it down onto the counter. She didn’t want to hear anymore. The absolute last thing she needed right now was to be scolded like a child.
The phone rang again, and she lunged forward, swiping it from the counter.
“What?” she shouted.
“Whoa. Is this a bad time?”
Lauren dropped her head and exhaled heavily.
“Sorry,” she said, bringing her hand to her forehead. “I thought you were someone else.”
“Well shit,” Michael said with a laugh. “I’m glad I’m not whoever you were expecting.”
Lauren sighed, trying to regain her composure.
“Hey,” he said, his voice turning serious. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not.”
When Lauren didn’t respond, Michael asked, “Are you home?”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
Lauren whipped her head up. “No, no, don’t do that.”
But he’d already hung up.
She stared at the phone for a second before she dropped her head back, her arms falling limply to her sides. “Fantastic,” she exhaled at the ceiling.
She tossed her phone onto the counter, vowing to never answer it again for as long as she lived, and then she padded across the ki { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: hi"> shouldertchen and opened her refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Kendall Jackson.
She poured herself a glass, holding it up in a one-sided toast. “To complete and utter dysfunction,” she said, taking almost half of it down.
By the time there was a knock on her door, Lauren was already on her second glass.
“Come in,” she called from where she sat on the living room floor.
She heard the door open, and she turned her head to see him standing in the entryway.
“You didn’t have to come here.”
“I know that,” he said, removing his jacket.
Lauren nodded, looking down to run her finger along the top of her wine glass. “Where’s Erin?”
“She ditched me tonight,” he said, laying his jacket over a chair before he walked into the living room. “She’s having a girls’ night with our neighbor.”
“That’s sweet,” Lauren said. “I didn’t know you had a little girl next door.”
Michael laughed. “Little girl? Mrs. Brigante is sixty years old. Apparently girls’ nights have no age restrictions. But still, no boys allowed.”