His First Love Moved In, So I Moved On

2: 2

At ten, Tyler made it to the hospital.

He'd run so hard there was sweat at his temples, and he came in carrying a breakfast sandwich from the place I always ordered from. He draped his coat over my legs first, then pushed his hand into mine.

"Pinch me if you're nervous. Don't pinch yourself. Did they do the exam?"

When I was scared I always dug into the web of my own thumb, so he'd offer up his hand instead and tell me his skin was thick.

I looked at the sequins on his shirt cuff and didn't ask about them. I only said the doctor had already gone home, and we'd been told to book again next week.

Tyler squeezed my fingertips.

"Next week I'll switch off my phone. No one's dragging me away. The sandwich is still hot. Have one first?"

That was when Clarissa called.

"Tyler, where'd you run off to? The cake for the retirement dinner's here. How's the guest of honor supposed to cut it with no family around?"

Tyler glanced at me and cut the call.

"I'm not going. Today's yours."

He picked the scallions off for me, then poked a little hole in the sandwich and let it cool before he slid it over.

When we first started dating, the first time I ate one of these, the filling squirted all over him.

He walked around with me the whole afternoon in a shirt dotted with grease, telling everyone I'd stamped my mark on him.

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

Only then did he let out a breath.

"There it is. When you go quiet, I panic."

A dozen minutes later, he said he'd go down for a cup of hot water.

I waited twenty minutes before I spotted him through the glass window of the restaurant next door.

Clarissa had a red "Happy Retirement" flower pinned to her chest, and she was setting a paper hat on his head.

Her friends crowded around, egging them on. Someone waved at me.

"Come on in too! You run the retirement home."

Tyler saw me, his smile froze for a second, and he came out quickly to pull my coat closed for me.

"They booked the restaurant over here at the last minute. I just stepped in to cut the cake."

"You said today was mine."

"I'm still right next to the hospital, aren't I?"

He dropped his voice.

"Everyone's already here. If I walk out in front of them, how's she supposed to face this crowd again? Ten minutes. When we get back I'll even carry you down the stairs."

I still went in and sat down.

When they took the photo, Clarissa slid her arm through Tyler's like it was nothing, boxing me out to the very edge.

The photographer pressed the shutter, and she called out to the camera,

"Early retirement, husband rehired for life!"

The whole table laughed.

Tyler laughed too. He only chased after me when he saw me stand up.

"It was one joke. You're taking it to heart again?"

"I didn't say anything."

"The less you say, the more I know you're angry."

He took a jewelry box out of his pocket.

"Sixth anniversary gift. I meant to give it to you last night."

A silver bracelet lay in the velvet, the style I'd admired half a year ago.

I'd just reached for it when Clarissa stuck her wrist out of the private room.

"Tyler, look. Same taste, right?"

She was wearing the same bracelet in platinum, a tiny "D" engraved on the charm.

Tyler's hands paused, but he fastened the silver chain on me anyway.

"She helped me pick it. Her skin's sensitive, she can't wear silver. Don't fixate on the price, the style's the same."

"Why is hers engraved with your initial?"

Clarissa gave her wrist a little shake.

"It's a lost-and-found tag for the retirement home. If the old lady wanders off, people know who to call."

Tyler laughed and scolded her for having too many tricks, then took hold of my wrist, his thumb brushing over the pulse point.

"I'll have yours engraved too when we get back. Don't measure yourself against her. She's got nothing. You've at least got me."

That night, Clarissa got drunk and wouldn't let go of his sleeve.

Tyler turned back to coax me.

"I'll walk her to her room, five minutes. Go shower first, I'll blow-dry your hair."

I waited with wet hair until midnight.

The blow-dryer sat by the pillow, its plug never even in the socket.

The next morning, at the guest room door, I found him asleep leaning against the side of the bed.

Clarissa had a grip on his sleeve, and the silver chain on my wrist had already broken out in a ring of red rash.