“Hey,” Alex says, “remember how I told you I didn’t care about our exes banging each other?”
I groan. “I was trying not to think about that.”
He takes a drag on his cigarette, then blows out. “Idocare.”
“Of course you do. You were married to her. For…”
“Eight years,” Alex says.
“Thirteen for me,” I tell him.
His eyebrows lift. “That’s a long time.”
I nod. Then, for some reason, maybe because he’s the first person I’ve met whom I can freely talk to about this, I ask, “How’d yours end?”
He peers my way. “Slowly. And painfully. Yours?”
“Quickly. And painfully.”
“So… it’s new,” he says. “Things being bad between you. I mean, bad enough to end the marriage.”
I stare up at the sky. “I think it had been bad for a while… I was just in denial about that for a long time.”
“Still,” he says gently, “makes sense, you being upset that Jen was there, when it hasn’t been that long.”
“I’m not jealous that Ethan already wants someone other than me. I’m just… mad at him. For a lot of things. And I’m tired of being mad. But I can’t seem to stop being mad, either.” I peer over at Alex. “What about you? How do feel about all of this?”
Alex’s gaze drops to the ground. “Also not jealous. Also mad. Jen being with someone already is going to make things harder for Mia.”
My heart twinges. “That makes sense.”
“Maybe I am jealous,” he adds, his voice quieter. “Of both of them. That they’re just… fine, apparently. Or, at least, fine enough to be with someone like that again.”
A sigh gusts out of me. “Yeah. I’m jealous of that, too.”
“I can’t imagine wanting that right now,” he says, “being in a relationship, no matter how casual.”
“Same. I’d be way too in my head.” I also haven’t ever found casual relationships to be something I enjoy, but admitting that has always left me feeling oddly vulnerable, and also just… odd. Anyone I’ve talked to about this seems to enjoy the thrill and no-strings, unstructured nature of casual relationships. But to me, the desire for a relationship has always been about longing for comfort, connection, that unique sense and sensuality of belonging just to each other. “I couldn’t do it.”
Alex grunts in agreement. “I can barely keep my head above water, as it is. The last thing I need is the added weight of trying not to fuck upanotherrelationship.”
I stare at him for a moment as he rakes a hand through his disheveled hair and sighs heavily. He looks so forlorn.
I nudge him with my knee. “It’s not like youcouldn’tfind someone else right now, if you wanted, though. You’ve got strong DILF energy.”
He slants a look my way, something like surprise flashing in his eyes. A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth that he tries to hide behind a draw on his cigarette. “Shut up.”
“You’re like Prince Eric,” I tell him. “With a solid tan. Anddark-blue eyes… And a stronger nose.”
“Broke it,” he explains through an exhaled plume of smoke. “Twice. And you’re full of shit about the Prince Eric thing.”
“Am not.”
He shakes his head as he drags on his cigarette again, another faint smile peeking out. “My sisters had the biggest crush on him when we were kids.”
“So did I. And on Aladdin. The Beast-slash-prince. Robin Hood—”
“Robin Hood, thefox?”