Appeal Denied

2017-NYC-36: Motion for Bail Pending Appeal

March 14, 2017

Fuck. What the hell had I done? Challenging Harry to come over to my apartment after Karl just left? Frantically I tried to call him back, but every time I pressed the digits, I got his voice mail instantly. Fuck.

Pacing the floor, unsure how to respond when he arrived, I attempted to breathe. He would be angry, I suspected. But why should he be? He didn't have the right. Harry had no hold over me anymore, I told myself. He was an ex. A former. A no-more. Firmly in the past. Right? Townes prowled around with me, unsure what was happening, upset without knowing why. I picked her up and petted her, burying my nose in her neck, and the feel of her soft fur soothed me.

Once calm, I changed into my flannel pajamas because as soon as he grabbed his shirt and left, I wanted to be able to sleep. The white and pink-patterned jammies weren't fashionable, but comfortable, and I curled up on the couch with a glass of white wine to end the evening. I examined my feelings over this visit, like one would a Rubik's cube to see which way to rotate it next to get the most colors lined up.

When the buzzer sounded downstairs, I had come to no conclusions other than I dreaded being in the same space with him again. I don't know how to explain it. We hadn't seen each other since Jamaica, and that was a wonderful time. So why the trepidation? Why the Gordian knot in my stomach? Grasping his shirt in one hand, I prepared to shove it at him and slam the door again, but when the knock came and I opened it, my willpower deserted me like a sailor jumping overboard at the first sign the ship is sinking.

He looked even better close up than he did in the restaurant. His hands in his pockets; his pose defensive. Leaning forward as if to kiss me, he stopped himself, and I sank back onto my feet from where I'd unconsciously risen on my toes. A pain wafted across my chest, and I thought it must be indigestion problems again. I seemed to have that problem a lot lately.

Neither of us spoke for the longest time, just taking the other in. Townes had no such hesitation. She immediately sniffed at him, crying in happiness, her entire backside moving side to side as she peed on the floor in her excitement.

Finally, I stepped back and swept my arm to indicate he should enter as I grabbed some paper towels to clean up the mess Townes made. Harry knelt down to her, rubbing his hands over her until she settled down.

"You're dressed for bed," he mumbled as he stood, and I nodded.

"Gotta go to work tomorrow."

"Is he here?" Harry's eyes roamed the apartment.

"No."

"Does he know about us?"

"He knows I was seeing someone in the past. And he knows I saw my 'ex' at the restaurant tonight. But he doesn't know it's you," I murmured defensively.

"Will you tell him?"

"Probably," was my reply. Taking a breath, I pushed out the truth, "I like him, Harry. A lot."

He deflated then, like a balloon after the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.

"Have you fucked him?"

His question made me squirm. Not because I had done anything to be ashamed of, but because it was Harry, and he didn't really have the right to know the answer.

But ultimately I gave in. "No," I whispered. "Tonight was the first time he kissed me."

His jaw tightened, and he stuffed his hands in his coat pocket, nodding. "I see."

Awkwardly we stood there, facing each other, an invisible barrier between us.

"I'm trying to understand," he began.