Peter refused to be effected by my rejection of him. And when I ran into him with a lovely redhead on his arm, it became perfectly clear to me that he wasn’t waiting for me to come around. As cozy as he was with Ann—he’d introduced her as the interior designer redecorating his apartment—I gathered that he had little interest in pursuing our relationship further. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or dismayed, though I was certainly jealous of the other woman’s presence in his life.
As time went on, Peter resumed his occasionally affectionate gestures, and I found myself welcoming them. Perhaps stirred by a little feminine rivalry, I began to smile at him again, swish my rear when I knew he was looking, and otherwise give him some encouragement. In the back of my mind half of me still de
