Page 51 of Engineering a Love Story

I snake a hand under his shirt, asking how much more time he needs with his email. It takes him a second to adjust his focus to me, to really look up and see me, but once he does, he closes the laptop. “None at all.”

When we’re quiet again, the sofa is large enough for me to tuck beside him. Our conversation rattles around to Travis and what I might say to him tomorrow at the office.

“I don’t have to worry about Travis.”

Seth marvels again at Daisuke’s move. He thinks it’s impressive, making a choice like that. And gutsy. “Like you. What you did. Giving up that punch bowl and so forth.”

“You can’t say that. For a while, I told myself the courageous thing was to stay. You make a commitment, you stick to it.”

Seth doesn’t agree. “You know my dad isn’t anyone I try to emulate. He wasn’t faithful to my mom.” His chest is warm beneath my cheek and it vibrates with his words. “And that’s shitty.” I angle my head to see his face. “I mean, I wouldn’t be here if you were still married—”

I stop him with a hand on his chest. “But, I am. Still married, I mean. I’m not officially divorced yet.” Our mediator advised Ash and I will have a court date in October, though I don’t share this with Seth, who is pensive for a moment until he shakes his head.

“Technicality. Though I thought.” He nudges my hand. “You aren’t wearing the rings.”

I shift to more clearly see his face. He looks so young. “I just took them off.”

His eyes move to the window. “Right. Anyway. My dad. What I was going to say is that it’s choices—yes, 100 percent. He chose to be unfaithful. But then he ended up with this woman, the manager of one of the apartment complexes he built.” Seth’s arm tenses. “She left her husband, her kids. My dad left my mom. A whole shitstorm. And I mean, Joe Murphy is not my favorite person. But as much as I hate to admit it, he’s happy now. He fell in love. Am I supposed to deny him that?”

I think of that woman’s husband, her kids, the disruption in their lives. Seth’s mother. It makes no sense, letting something like that cannonball your life. “That whole idea—they fell in love,” I say. “Like, it’s out of their control. And then, what? Nothing is your fault? I’m not sure I buy that.”

“Buy what? You don’t believe people fall in love?”

“No, it’s not that.” It’s been so easy with Seth, like slipping into a warm bath when the water temperature is perfect—I barely felt it. Though his silence, when he didn’t call—I definitely felt that. And I wonder, maybe truly for the first time, if this painful and glorious combination of sweetness and sting is love. If I’ve somehow found this thing I wasn’t supposed to be looking for.

But even if that’s the case, what does it mean? My mind races forward, trying to slot all the pieces of our story together, but there’s Gilroy and a continent between us and I can’t make it all fit. My inability to forecast causes a flash of panic. “I’m just not sure love is a basis for serious decision-making,” I say.

“Serious decision-making? What are we, the UN? We’re talking about love.”

“We are?” All weekend I’ve been pacing myself, forcing myself to remember we’re only playing around. And now he wants to talk about love?

“Isn’t that what it’s all about?” The belief in his face is startling.

“I don’t know.” My head is muddled from something more than cheap wine. I motion to my empty walls and the boxes under my stereo. “Clearly, I don’t have anything figured out.”

“What are you talking about? You’re more together than anyone I know.” But I feel the swivel of Seth’s head over mine.

I choke out a laugh. “Me? I’m not together. Like, I convinced myself that I was, but then I so obviously wasn’t, and look at me now.” Again, I splay my hands. “I never planned to spend my summer doing any of this.”

“When did you move in here?”

I hesitate, remembering I haven’t been fully truthful with him. “It’s been maybe six weeks.”

“Weeks?” Seth removes his arm and begins to sit up.

“Wait,” I say. “What?” The panic I felt a minute ago explodes.

“I don’t know.” Seth is half upright, forearms on his knees. “I guess I thought. You were more … established.”

I shake my head, caught between feeling like I might laugh and cry. “Established is definitely a thing I’m not.”

Seth pushes away and leaves the sofa. I want to pull him back, but he says he has to pack. His flight in the morning is at seven. He calls for a taxi to collect him at six, and I make a feeble attempt to tease him, suggesting he’s perhaps cutting it a little too close. But his teasing mood has gone.

While Seth packs, I close myself in the bathroom and shower. As the water pricks my skin, I try to untangle what just happened. I hear Bethany telling me not to believe I’ve fallen in love so quickly, but I think too of the difference between what you think you’re supposed to feel and what you actually feel, and I know I’ve never been much good at telling those two things apart.

After my shower, Seth is already in bed. I crawl in beside him, determined to ask him outright what he’s doing here. “This has all been so good between us,” I begin. He’s on his back, but he shifts toward me, trickling a hand up the outside of my leg. “But I worry I don’t have any context. You know?”

I want him to convince me, to argue that this is real, to say he feels it too.