I hate to break this moment up for so many reasons I can’t name. I know them. I feel them. I really shouldn’t acknowledge them, and I definitely never plan to say them to her. But I know what I’m feeling right now. I like that Nate likes her and that she makes him laugh.

She’s somehow even more beautiful than I remember, and I’ve been thinking about her constantly.

If I was on the way to forgetting her, this quick visit has set me all the way back to square one.

I wish I could apologize again, but I can’t. Besides the fact that Nate’s with me, I think it’ll freak her out. Also, the desire I feel in my gut freaks me out. I haven’t felt anything like this need since that moment at the beginning of sophomore year when Nadia’s gaze was searching my face, wondering if she felt something besides friendship for me.

“Hey, buddy, want to go get some ice cream?” I say in a strained voice.

Nate gasps. “For real?”

“For real.”

“There’s a great place in the food court.” Jourdan’s voice makes me freeze. I feel like I’m back at the preserve, but not on that trail when she basically accused me of being shit at this polyamorous dating thing. Even though she’s not speaking to me, her voice takes me back to the meadow, tree bark digging through my shirt to abrade my skin, Jourdan’s hands stroking me, her pussy gushing into my palm.

“Can we go, dad?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, too loud. “Whatever you want, buddy. Say goodbye to, uh…”

I look at her again for the first time since the redhead tore my attention away from her earlier.

She’s still not looking at me.

“My name’s Jourdan.” She offers Nate her hand, and he takes it, laughing as they shake because he’s ten and thinks all grownup things are weird, and they make him giggle.

“I’m Nate, and this is my dad.”

She glances up at me. It’s brief, but fuck if it doesn’t make my insides twist into a knot. “Nice to meet you, Nate,” she says, completely ignoring me.

He waves at her and turns toward the door. I follow him in a daze, my brain whirring its gears as it searches for a reason to stay, a reason that doesn’t exist.

“I saw Jourdan.”

I text Nadia on the way to the food court.

“What? Where?”

Nadia’s probably pacing in circles in her office as the bubble indicating that I’m typing appears and disappears only to reappear again. I’m trying to find the words but they keep escaping me.