OYPODL - chapter 2

So, I know what he told me was bullshit. And I think about it on the ride to the restaurant. and when next I open the "trunk" to get my purse, I get another look at the phone number, and try to commit it to memory.

At dinner, I ask about his friend. he gives me a name "Roger" somebody. Used to work with him in recruiting. he changes the subject. After dinner, I get another look at the note, and yet another glance upon getting home lets me confirm the phone # and the address. We get home, he needs to run up to the corner for those nasty cigs, and I reverse lookup the number. No hits. So, I dial it. And, yes, a woman answers (but you knew that already).

So, he comes home. Goes upstairs to change into comfy clothes. I go up to chat. Walk in the room and he says "what's up?" I respond: "That's what I want to know."

He launches into "nothing's going on! I'm here every night!" (Immediately, my mind thinks, "and where are you during the day???")

So - skipping ahead to the gist . . .

he wouldn't discuss any of it - NOT A WORD - until several days later I told him he needed to get out of my house - all he said then was "Okay".

And finally, after he was gone from here and gave back my house keys, he admitted in an e-mail that really, nothing had happened, though he had set something up to happen, and backed out at the last minute.

So, if nothing happened, why didn't he just say so, or stay and fight about it, or defend himself in some way?

He didn't do any of it. He just said "okay" and by the weekend all of him and his essentials were gone.