Not That Single in Never Say Never

At the end of a brilliant evening, spent dazzling hostesses and fellow theater-goers and the waitstaff at dinner with our full-on formalwear and giant smiles, I ask him if he’s really divorced.

He pauses.

And says no.

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I didn’t suspect it. I’ve just learned to ask. And I promised myself I would ask this one all the hard questions and listen to all the hard answers up front, before we slept together. That I wouldn’t do that thing that I see us single women all doing: Hold the question because the dinner was expensive, the wine sparkled, the laughs wouldn’t stop, the romance seemed promising. Hold the question because I didn’t want to spoil a lovely evening. Hold the question because I don’t really want to hear the answer I don’t really want to hear.

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We sit in the car and he asks if I am OK. I say I am. And I am. But the energy has shifted. The cloak of disappointment covers us. Papers not signed means married. That you got divorced in your heart last November is not single. That you admit that you have no business being in a relationship with anyone means I have no business being in a relationship with you.

He asks if I still want him to come up for dessert and I say yes. And so he does. And we eat cannolis and sip wine and talk about where he is and where I am and we kiss and I send him home.

Last updated October 09, 2016