I stand suddenly, on my feet via instinct, unaware of the insta-rage that shoots through me like a pipe bomb filled with debris.

Steady, I tell myself. I think of Chloe’s mouth, the taste of her, how she felt against my thighs, her delicate skin and fine bones all mine. I run through the last few days, my memory a video in 4x time, the sequence of events gaining a different meaning as I put it together in retrospect.

I sought out the sanctuary of Chloe after Simone came on to me. Not because I needed to feel like more of a man. Not because I needed freedom.

Because I needed Chloe. The intimacy is emotional and physical, promising and alluring, and I can be myself and be sexual with her. Find connection in the physical and intellectual realm. She’s the whole package. Simone is all surface, no depth, living a life marked by projection.

Chloe’s just living.

“Nick.” Charlie’s taking charge here. I shake myself, looking around the room.

“She’s wrong,” Amelie says. She looks at her phone. “Ooo, text from Kieran. Gotta go.”

“Who’s Kieran?” I ask.

“New guy. Meeting for coffee.” She kisses my cheek and flies out the door.

“Merde!” Jean-Marc calls out, racing to the television. “Pats game! We missed part of it.” Charlie joins him, the two glued to the screen in seconds.

The moment is lost.

Bzzz.

My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and when I pull it out, the Holy Grail appears.

A text from Chloe.

A relieved smile fills my face.

Can I come over? Jemma will watch Holly for me.

Of course, I type back.

I want to add, Thank you, but I don’t.

Wouldn’t want anyone to mistake me for a lap dog.

* * *

Charlie takes Jean-Marc to a local sports bar, while Elodie finds some folklore thing to visit, leaving me with an empty house. I’m fidgety, checking the wine bottles, setting and re-setting wine glasses on the kitchen counter. Chloe’s text is a sign of hope. I’ve given her space. She needs it. So do I.

Between Simone, the clash with Chloe, and the decidedly surreal conversation with my kids and Charlie a moment ago, space and time are in short supply.

“Breathe,” I tell myself, surprised by the case of nerves that hits me.

The doorbell rings.

“Hi.” Her shy smile puts me on guard.

“Hi.” I hustle her inside, out of the cold, and take her coat. Just the feel of my hands skimming her clothed arms makes me stop breathing. I can fix this. We can decide.

We can choose to make this work.

“Wine?”

She nods. “Just one glass.” There are dark circles under her eyes, though she’s carefully made up. Somehow, Chloe manages to look utterly exhausted and radiantly happy at the same time.

New motherhood.

We move to the sofa, where she curls up against the stack of pillows, not touching me. I angle myself so I’m facing her.

“How’s Holly?”

“Good. Great.”

“Getting any sleep?”

She laughs, then yawns as if to prove the point. “No.”

“It’ll happen soon.”

“Define ‘soon.’”

“Jean-Marc didn’t sleep through the night until he was nearly two.”

“I hate you.” She laughs. “Holly is sleeping at Jemma and Henry’s right now. I don’t have long, but I’ll take what I can get.”

The physical memory of our rushed night of sex at her place while the baby slept for seven minutes hits me like a tidal wave.

“Right,” I choke out.

“Look. I’ll get to the point.” Her eyes meet mine over the wine glass as she takes a sip. “I will never, ever date a man again who’s committed to someone else.”

Good thing I’m not drinking. “What?”

“You heard me.” Her eyes are hard and cold, like brown rocks. Yet somehow, I feel her pleading with me underneath.

“I’m not with anyone else. I’m not,” I add, a hard edge to my voice. The stakes are high here, but there’s more. If she can’t trust me, we can’t continue. I won’t grovel.

“I know.” She tips her head down. “I know I’m projecting some of this. After the choice I made – the stupid choice – to stay with Joe for so long, I find myself unable to find true North.”

“North?”

“My compass is a little bit broken. The piece inside you that guides you. Except with Holly.” She beams.

I set down my wine glass and take her hand. She lets me. It’s cold, and I envelop it in both of mine. “I’ll get to the point, too. I don’t play games. That’s not my style. For fifteen years I’ve stayed out of entanglements. My kids came first. I came second. I didn’t want to be with someone who would complicate my life. That was before I met you.”

She’s listening. It’s a start.

“You walked into the damn conference room so poised and self-assured, smart and funny – damn it, Chloe, you’re the whole package. And then the baby...”

“The baby.” The words come out of her like bubbles, floating on the wind.

I stand, realizing some music would help. I’m all drumbeat inside, wanting to say the right words, but trying to make sure I don’t lose too much of myself in this. I’m done compromising to the point of loss. I put on some Miles Davis, Kind of Blue, and she closes her eyes, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

She is breathtaking.

I continue, standing behind her, watching.

“Holly is everything to me, Nick,” she says, her voice dreamy.”I had no idea you could find so much of yourself in raising a child.”

My chest loosens.

“It’s not like you lose yourself in them. It’s like you find yourself in new ways. I know she’ll be grown one day.” Chloe yawns. “And I’m excited to know my job will fade out as a parent. Our job is to raise them to be independent souls, right? I don’t want an adult child who needs me. I want to have one who wants to spend time with me.”

She chuckles softly. “But right now, I’d settle for three hours of uninterrupted sleep.”

I smooth a strand of hair behind her ear. She sighs into the touch. She finishes her wine and sets the empty glass on the end table next to her, eyes still closed. Her breathing evens out.