Katy rolls over in bed to face him on a Saturday morning, but he's got that look again. She's grown accustomed to his distant ways. To how he keeps her at arm's length. She doesn't mind so much, but it's been six months and she thinks she should know something about him besides his last name and that he likes sad, mopey music that drives her insane when he plays it in the car. She thinks maybe she should know what goes on in his head when he's got that look on his face in the morning. When he stares at the stone white ceiling with vacant eyes.
So she sidles up next to him this morning, puts her arm across his stomach and says, "What are you thinking?"
He doesn't move to look at her. He just says, "Nothing."
"Fine." She turns back over on her side so she isn't facing him anymore. She tries to close her eyes and sleep, but she can feel him still staring at that damn ceiling, still thinking something that she should know about. She can feel him pushing her further and further.
When she met him at the office, he seemed perfect. The sort of man she'd imagined herself finding someday. She had watched his hands in the conference room and they were the sort of hands that would take care of her, she thought. His shoulders were the sort of shoulders that would support her and protect her. He seemed like the sort of man who she could fall in love.
None of the things turned out to be true except for the last one. She had fallen in love with him, maybe even that day or that night as she watched him drink his beer in the dimly lit bar and he smiled at her and it felt pure and real. She wasn't used to smiles like that. It might've happened on the way back to her place, when he pulled up to her apartment building and didn't try to kiss her or touch her, just looked at her with those eyes and said, "So we should go on a real date tomorrow night." Or maybe it was when he stayed there in his car, making sure she got in alright.
His arms are slipping around her waist now and she gives in again. Even though she's supposed to be upset with him. Even though she's angry. She lets him pull her against his chest and kiss the back of her neck. He says, "I'm sorry. It's just…work stuff."
She wants to ask him what that means. He works at a goddamn paper company. What about paper has him staring blankly at his ceiling for hours on a Saturday morning? But she knows she'll only get another cryptic answer, so she accepts it and turns to kiss him on the mouth.
He keeps his eyes closed during sex. At first she didn't mind. She almost thought it was romantic, the way he would close them tight and rest his forehead in the crook of her neck. But she wanted to look him in the eyes sometimes. And she starts to feel like maybe he's trying to forget someone else, like maybe he's using her.
But there are still times when he looks at her while they're watching TV in his living room or when he's driving her home and she feels something. She can remember making him dinner at her apartment one night and turning to see him leaning against the island in her kitchen. And he looked right there. She imagined him barefoot in jeans and a t-shirt on a Sunday morning, reading the paper at the kitchen counter. Then, in the same moment, his cell phone rang and she watched as he smiled widely against it and said, "Hey. What's up," and left the room with some vague hand gesture. She hadn't asked who it was. She thinks maybe she already knew.
He has a picture of the receptionist on his desk. Of both of them at some office outing. And he's smiling wider than she's ever seen him smile and the receptionist girl looks at the camera, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he's looking at her and smiling like that. And this is who he's trying to forget. Who he closes his eyes for. Who she's replacing. The work stuff that's bothering him.
She won't leave him though, because he comes back from his shower that morning with a towel wrapped around his waist and he falls down onto the bed next to her and kisses her neck. And she likes the way it feels. She likes the way his hands feel on her skin even if they're not going to take care of her. She likes the way his shoulder blades move beneath his skin even if they're not going to support her or protect her.
----------------
The boat sways and lurches, but she doesn't feel seasick. She only feels slightly tipsy from the few beers she's had. She only feels slightly lonely when he slips out of the booth and goes out on the deck with her.
But Pam's nice and this is the first time she's actually talked to her. She's nice and she's smart and she can make Jim laugh. She's been watching her with her fiancé and they seem in love, but somehow they don't fit. Like he's too big and she's too delicate. Like they're both just settling for each other regardless of what makes them happy. Pam doesn't smile with Roy. Not like she's seen her smile with Jim. Now she feels seasick, but it has nothing to do with the lake or the boat.
So Pam's out on the deck with her boyfriend and she's in here with her fiancé, watching him do shots with his friends.
She glances out the window at them. His back is to her and she can't tell if he's saying anything to her, but she's looking at him steadily and seriously. Then she laughs and shrugs and she's walking back inside. He doesn't follow her. He puts his hand on the rail and leans forward a little.
She gets up and puts on her coat and walks out there to stand next to him. He doesn't move when she grabs a hold of his arm and leans against him. He stares down at the water hitting against the boat with that same vacant look. She doesn't want to fight. She doesn't want to ask him about it. If she's being honest, she doesn't want to know about it. She gets up on her toes and kisses him on the cheek. Only then does he turn and look at her, a sad sort of smile growing on his face.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi. It's cold out here. Come inside and talk to me."
He frowns a little and shakes his head. "I don't know if I can stand anymore of Michael's absurdity. It's better out here." He puts his arms around her waist and pulls him to her, kissing her lips sweetly. She hates the effect this has on her. How she feels her legs weaken a little and her heart fill up. She hates how quick she is to forget that he's in love with someone else.
"Well, I'll be inside whenever you feel like joining me," she says, trying to sound light.
But when he comes back in, he stands at the bar and has a beer and doesn't come to sit with her. Maybe it's because Pam is here. She's talking to her about her engagement. She tries not to think of Jim as she asks about it. Tries not to hope for anything.
She sees him walking towards and smiles, but then he's looking at Pam with a sense of purpose and he's saying, "Hey, can I talk to-"
He's interrupted by Roy's voice on the microphone, but she knows what he was going to say to her. What he would say to her once he got her alone back out on the deck. She sinks into her seat a little, but then there's Roy drunkenly setting a date for the wedding and she smiles and hugs Pam fiercely. More for herself, than for her. Because this means something for her, she thinks. It means that maybe he'll open his eyes now.
She pushes past Jim quickly, because she doesn't want to see his face fall. But as she's watching Pam and Roy dance together happily, she can't help but look back at him. And there's that vacant look in his eyes again. But she won't feel sorry for him. She ignores how her eyes burn a little at the thought of his heart breaking.
When the congratulatory commotion has died down, she finds him still sitting in the booth, staring at his hands. She grabs his arm and says, "Let's get some air."
He nods wordlessly and puts on his coat. On the deck, they stand in front of the door, watching the people inside. He stares at Pam and Roy and she tries to make him feel better. Tries to make him think of her instead of Pam. Of what's in front of him instead of what's now completely unattainable. And she can't help but ask, "Do you think that'll ever be us?" Because now there's a little more hope that maybe he'll be able to love her, actually love her.
But he just says, "No," and she's so tired of letting herself love him while he could care less about her.
So she's angry now and she says, "What is wrong with you? Why did you even bring me here tonight?" She honestly doesn't know. He spent the entire time laughing with Pam or trying to get her alone so he could confess his undying love for her. He's hardly said a word to her all night and she hates him right now.
"I don't know. Let's break up."
Hates him, hates him, hates him. But this hurts, because this should be the time for him to move on. It hurts because she couldn't make him feel anything for her and the words come out of his mouth cold and devoid of emotion.
"Wait. What?"
He looks at her. "Come on, Katy. You know what's going on."
"She's engaged, Jim. She's got a date for the wedding now. You can't-"
"I won't love you."
She goes silent, just nods sullenly and tries not to cry in front of him, because she knows he'll put his arms around her and try to be comforting and that's the last thing she needs.
She bites her lip hard and turns to him, saying numbly, "She's stupid for not seeing it."
