I’ll whisper.
A chuckle escapes me.
Pete shakes his head. “If you want to step outside and text…”
“It’s Dina. I’ll be right back.” I walk out into the hallway and sit on the little green bench across from a giant poster of an ape on a horse. Is there a horse in every movie? I’ll have to think about that.
What movie are you watching?
Yard something.
The horse movie?
You know it?
No.
Me either. I’ve never seen a horse in real life.
Connor types, and I wait, but when he doesn’t hit Send, I return to the theater.
“Is everything okay?” Pete asks.
“Everything’s fine. Just a diaper rash question.”
We watch the movie. In the end, the horse dies. When the lights come on, I’m sobbing, and Pete hands me a tissue from his pocket. I want to blow snot into his tissue and shove it into his mouth for bringing me to a movie where the horse dies in the end. Why would anyone make a movie where the main character dies? Why would any man take a woman on a date to a movie where a horse dies? If there is no HEA, I don’t want to watch it. I don’t want to read it. I want to pretend it doesn’t exist.
“I don’t understand,” I sob into the tissue. I wish I never saw the movie. “She was such a great horse,” I say into the tissue. “Why did they do that to her?”
“Awww, there, there.” Pete pats my back. “It’s just a movie.”
I tuck the damp tissue into the front pocket of his jeans. “It’s never just a movie. It’s now part of me and my experience today. I experience everything.”
Pete frowns. “I didn’t realize you were this sensitive.”
“I’m a girl, you idiot.” I point at the final scene, which they’re running the credits over. “You never said that it was a movieabout a girl horse. Who died! What is wrong with you?” I storm outside and sit on the bench and cry. I don’t think I’m crying because of the movie. Though the movie was sad, and I wish I hadn’t seen it.
I’m also crying because I know Pete can never make me happy. Not after today. This kind of shit can’t be undone. And I’m so glad he insisted on going out with me, or I’d have been left wondering if we would have been a match. We’re not. The dead horse movie said so.
Two months ago, on my thirtieth birthday, Dina told me about Sergei, her ex, and how she knew from the start that he wasn’t the right choice for her, but she kept ignoring all the signs. She said that you can tell a lot about a man from the first few dates when he’s trying to impress a girl. She said you can tell if a man will make you happy by how you guys vibe and what he does for you.
I can’t teach Pete about his choice of movie or how he touched my thigh or how he pulled up into his underground parking lot without consulting me about it. I know he knew I’d preferred he took me up to the manor so I could get my baby girl, but Pete ignored it. He was annoyed with Connor because Connor pointed out his wrongs.
Connor’s treatment of Pete isn’t justified. But Connor had a point.
Pete stands next me, hands on his hips, occasionally checking his watch. “We’re going to be late for dinner.”
I’m about to tell him our date is over because I’m afraid he’ll take me to a restaurant to eat horse meat when Pete crouches in front of me and cups my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would end this way. I mean, I did because I knew the story, but I didn’t think they’d show it all quite like that. They could’ve ended the story on the last win. You know how sometimes the director gets carried away?”
I sniff. “Thank you.”
“Come on, babe. We have a reservation at L’Octane.”
He keeps looking at me as if he expects a reaction.
“That’s impressive,” I say. I’ll read that menu carefully. And there better not be any pictures of horses anywhere. I hope nobody wears riding boots.
Chapter 10