Between Two Matches

Chris stayed the night at my place. Well, technically my apartment in my brother's basement.

We had both been drinking for most of the day, so nothing much happened beyond a lot of kissing and talking. Still, it was nice. After spending so much time alone over the past year, sharing a bed with someone again felt surprisingly comforting.

The next morning, I woke up expecting to feel terrible. Somehow, I wasn't nearly as hungover as I deserved to be.

Chris, on the other hand, seemed full of energy. He was upbeat, talkative, and clearly excited about the night before.

My brother drove us back to my sister's house to pick up our car. When we walked inside, my sister immediately gave me a look. Not a judgmental look - a knowing look. The kind of look only a sister can give when she already knows exactly what's going on before you've said a word.

And honestly, I was internally freaking out. Dating was going to be a lot harder than I expected.

I had never been someone who talked to multiple people at once. My entire adult life, if I liked someone, I focused on that person. Simple. Now, somehow, less than a week after getting back into dating, I had gone on two dates with Jack, spent the previous night with Chris, and was trying to sort through feelings I didn't fully understand.

Chris and I got into my car so I could drive him home.

"Last night was fun," he said.

"It was." And I meant it. I had genuinely enjoyed myself. That was the problem. If I hadn't liked him, everything would have been easier. Instead, I found myself sitting in the driver's seat with a knot in my stomach.

I liked Jack.

I liked Chris.

And I had absolutely no idea what I was supposed to do with that information.

As I pulled up to Chris's condo, he leaned over, kissed me goodbye, and headed inside.

The second he disappeared through the door, I called my mom. By the time I got home, I had also called my sister.

"This is exactly what you should be doing," she told me. "You just started dating again. It's normal to explore different opportunities."

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was normal. But it didn't feel normal to me. I felt guilty. I felt stressed. I felt like I was somehow doing something wrong, even though I wasn't exclusive with either of them. So many questions popped into my ind.

How was I supposed to figure out which person I liked more?

What if I had to choose?

What if I chose wrong?

My brain immediately jumped ahead to questions neither man was asking.

By that evening, I was texting both of them. Jack didn't seem to notice anything had changed. Our conversations were still easy and consistent, just like they had been for weeks.

Chris was different. More eager. More expressive. I could already tell he was excited about where things might go. Part of me was excited too. Another part of me felt completely overwhelmed.

Monday morning arrived, and I found myself managing two separate conversations before I had even finished my coffee.

I tried not to overthink it. I told myself everything would work itself out eventually.

Chris and I talked throughout the day. He was more forward than Jack and much more direct about what he wanted. He was also older—thirty-eight compared to Jack's thirty-one—and seemed ready to settle down.

As conflicted as I felt, I couldn't deny that there was something appealing about that.

My divorce wasn't even finalized yet. I was still working through the process of selling my house and closing one chapter of my life. But deep down, I missed the feeling of stability. I missed having a partner. I missed feeling like I knew what tomorrow looked like. Maybe that's why Chris was so intriguing.

Every Monday, I play volleyball with a group of coworkers. Since I live on the opposite side of the bridge from where I work and play, I usually stay local in between work and my games rather than driving home.

That Monday, I planned to work a couple hours of overtime before volleyball, but I still had nearly two hours to kill. Although there was a rumor of a storm, volleyball wasn't cancelled yet. When Chris invited me over to hang out while I waited, it seemed like the perfect solution.

After all, I had just seen him the day before. What was one more afternoon?

I drove to his condo, and when I arrived, he had left his parking spot open for me while he parked on the street. It was a small gesture - but I noticed it.

Inside, we settled onto the couch and turned on the Yankees game.

The afternoon felt easy. We talked. We watched baseball. We kissed occasionally. We both made online home run bets.

Outside, the storm rolled in. Rain hammered against the windows while thunder rattled through the neighborhood.

As evening turned into night, volleyball was canceled.

Hours slipped by without me noticing. The longer I stayed, the less I wanted to leave. Part of it was the weather. Most of it was that I was genuinely enjoying myself.

The storm continued.

And instead of driving home, I stayed.