“This is really strange behavior,” Greg added.
Ava threw a wine cork at him, and we laughed. “It’s what you get for crashing girls’ night.”
“Sure,” he said, smiling to himself.
~
After an early shower the next morning, I walked back into the bedroom where Gretchen was just waking up.
“Dude,” she said, “you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“Why?” I asked, toweling my hair.
“You would not stop thrashing. I think you gave me a bruise,” she said, rubbing her leg.
I dropped onto the edge of the bed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said reluctantly. “But you were like, moving a lot and talking. Did you have another nightmare?”
I thought back a moment. “Probably.”
“What are they about?”
“Mostly that I’m suffocating. I’m choking or something. I remember not being able to breathe.”
“When did they start?”
“Right after the Mark Alvarez attack.”
“Do you get them with David?”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“Did you have a nightmare at David’s?”
“Yes. After he left the bed. But not when he held me. Actually, I slept really well there. With Bill, I would get them even if he was holding me.”
“It’s too early in the morning for this,” she said, jerking her head as if shaking something off. “Is that my robe?”
I shrugged and smiled.
I didn’t realize until late in the day that I’d been checking my phone and e-mail for something from David every hour. I didn’t have a reason to expect anything, but I was looking for it anyway.
Serena poked her head in my office. “Beman says you’re taking Friday off,” she said.
I stared at my assistant. I’d forgotten that I’d booked tickets for David and me to go to Dallas and see my dad. “Yes,” I told her. “Sorry I forgot to mention it. Beman was sure to remind me about Friday’s deadline though.”
She grinned and stepped into the office. “You’ll get it done in time. You always do.”
“I know. I’m going to try and knock it out tonight though,” I said, noticing then that it was falling dark. “In fact, it’s past five o’clock, you can go home.”
“Actually,” she said, hesitating. “I’m down to stay and help.”
“Really?”
“Totally. Just give me whatever.”
I leaned back in my chair and chewed the cap of my pen. “That would be a huge help. Get your stuff, and you can set up in here.”
We worked silently and diligently next to each other for the next couple hours until her head popped up. “Should I order us some food?”
I remembered David’s admonishment about eating from the day before and nodded. “Yes, thanks. I didn’t even realize I was starving.”
Within half an hour, we had pushed our work aside and were scarfing down Chinese. “You’re a good assistant,” I told her. “I’m sorry if I’ve been hard on you lately.”
“You haven’t,” she mused. “I like working for you. Like, I’d rather help you out than Lisa.”
For some reason, that relieved me. “So you don’t think I’m like her?”
She grimaced. “Hell, no. She’s nasty by nature, but I know you’re just having a hard time.”
I smiled appreciatively as I chewed.
“But, I’ve been, like, wondering something . . . ,” she said.
“Okay,” I prompted, bracing for whatever question had been brewing in her head.
“Do you really love what you do?” she asked.
I paused, a piece of lemon chicken midway to my mouth. “That’s a weird question for your boss.”
“I know, I’m just wondering. I think your position is really exciting, and I want to do it one day. I guess I just want to know if it’s as great as it seems.”
“Well,” I said as I chewed, “I think I’m good at it. I’m not sure ‘great’ or ‘exciting’ are the words I’d use.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged. “I like it because it makes sense – if there’s a mistake, I fix it. If something would look better a different way, I change it. It’s not like it’s glamorous or anything. It’s just a job.”
“I know, but you’re helping put ideas and concepts out there into the world and you’re, like, kind of responsible for it being the best it can be. Is there something else you’d rather be doing?”
“I don’t know. When I was a kid I thought I would be a writer. I’m not that great at it though, which is why I don’t contribute much.”
“Are you kidding? Everyone likes your writing. I’ve even heard Beman say so.”
“Maybe,” I said, popping another piece of chicken into my mouth. “So, how are things with Brock?”
She lit up and delved into her boyfriend’s latest hobby as I smiled, thankful that she was easily distracted.
~
Wednesday started out the same, with Gretchen cursing me out for disrupting her sleep. I laughed and promised to move to the couch.
I still hadn’t heard from David, nor had I contacted him. I was feeling comfortably numb about everything. I didn’t let myself get emotional, but I continued to hear Bill’s words, or rather, the meaning of his words. When my mind started to wander, whether it was to the sweet moment in David’s closet, our intimate bath or the thrilling way he’d ensnared me in his guest room, I immediately shut it down. I needed a clear head to find the answers that continued to elude me.
I took lunch in my office and did something I hadn’t done in years. I pulled out a journal I’d bought before work and began to write.
November 14th, 2012
I was married in Chicago in June. It wasn’t a large wedding, but it wasn’t small either. The day started out with a certain electricity; everyone was buzzing, myself included. I hadn’t seen Bill since the night before when instead of his normally mild disposition, he’d been giddy. That didn’t surprise me; he’d been ready to settle down for a while. To finally ‘get our lives started’ as he put it. I didn’t really know what that meant, and I’m still not sure I do.
In the days leading up to the wedding and the hours leading up to the ceremony, I felt mostly calm and perhaps a little numb. I wouldn’t say that I had doubts, but I felt somewhat as though I was resigning myself to fate. I had faith that one day, I would want the same things as Bill. I had faith that our love would only grow stronger, deeper, over time.
I remembered admiring myself in the mirror as Gretchen, Lucy, my mother and some friends from college clucked around me. I had wanted Gina, my dad’s wife, to be there, but she couldn’t be in such close quarters with my mom, who’d already had a couple drinks.
The dress was lovely and simple; definitely my taste. Bill had stressed the importance of saving for our future, which I agreed with, so I bought something modest: a seamless, empire-waist column dress with thin straps. Though my father offered to pay for any dress I wanted, I had asked instead if he would splurge on the shoes – a pair of nude, satin Manolo Blahnik open-toed heels topped with a jeweled brooch. I felt beautiful; great shoes could have that effect on a girl.
The first moment I felt more excited than calm was when I saw Bill at the end of the aisle. He looked handsome with freshly-trimmed hair and a fine-looking tuxedo. He smiled at me as I began my march on that warm evening and then at the crowd as they watched me. But I kept my eyes on him. It took a great deal of restraint not to pull at my ear or twist my ring nervously with all those eyes on me. My dad was stoic and relaxed, so I did my best to siphon that energy from him as he held my arm.
I’d had a lot of time to think during our engagement, half of which was spent living together. Bill was kind and hard working. He wanted to give me things that other women would kill for: a home in a nice neighborhood, a family, security. I knew I didn’t want to move from the city or start a family right away. I
told Bill that one day I would want those things though, and so he was patient. I hadn’t lied. I had believed that those were things I would desire; that one day, a switch would flip, and I would feel differently. That was the faith I kept as I squeezed Bill’s hands in mine, smiled and said, “I do.”
During the reception, my mother was ecstatic, if not slightly intoxicated, because she loved Bill for me. He was the man she’d never found – loyal, respectful, smart and gentle. She was so happy in fact, that she was able to maintain a level of civility through the evening, even with my dad and Gina. My dad’s wife was young – about twenty years younger than my mom – and an Italian firecracker who was easily riled. They’d argued before at family events, so I’d been nervous to see how they would interact.
With the three of them in the same room for the first time in years, divorce weighed heavily on my mind. I couldn’t ignore the ugly statistics about marriage, but I figured Bill and I made sense, and we’d thought things through. I wouldn’t be my mother; I wouldn’t drive my husband away with fits of jealousy as she had. Bill would never leave me anyway, partly because he’d wanted this for so long. He was just as opposed to divorce as I was, the product of a Catholic upbringing.
Gretchen’s brother John was the only person who asked me, after the ceremony, if I was okay. He said like my dad, I was unusually calm, and I told him it was our way of dealing with nerves.
‘But why?’ he had asked. ‘Why nerves now? The deed is done.’
So it was, and so I’d made some joke about wedding night jitters, but it had come out flat. Then Gretchen appeared, beautiful as the maid of honor, and I forgot John’s comment until many years later.
We were tired at the end of the night, but we made love anyway. I thought perhaps we should have slept instead, as it was quick and uninspired. No, becoming his wife had not magically turned my body into a hotbed of exposed nerves as I’d naïvely hoped. I had thought that maybe the security and finality of the event would allow my body and my mind to relax. I fell asleep satisfied but not sated.
I was surprised to see I’d written through my entire lunch break. A text from Gretchen drew me back to reality.
Nov 14, 2012 1:04 PM
Did you hear back from Dani?
Nov 14, 2012 1:05 PM
No. Think she’s avoiding me…?
Nov 14, 2012 1:07 PM
She’ll be at Gilt Bar tonight in River N. I’m thinking we accidentally show up.
I twisted my lips as I thought. Hearing Dani’s side of the story was more than tempting. And since she was likely avoiding my calls, I didn’t think a surprise visit was such a bad idea.
CHAPTER 14
RIHANNA BLARED from the living room. Gretchen and I sat cross-legged in front of her mirrored closet applying makeup. I flashed back to the times Gretchen would visit Lucy and me in college, and we would plan for a night out at the clubs. I hadn’t gotten ready with my girlfriends since Bill and I moved in together. The only thing missing was Lucy seated to my left.
“Vodka and soda all right?” Bethany yelled from the doorway, and we each gave her a thumbs up.
“Lucy’s not going to be there, right?” I asked Gretchen.
“Nope. Dani is in town for a work conference or something. Lucy just mentioned it in passing, and I pretended not to care.”
“Good. I don’t want to involve her.”
“I take it you haven’t heard from Lucy then.”
I shook my head and blotted my lip gloss on a piece of tissue. “I’m trying to give her some space.” I couldn’t tell if Gretchen looked worried, or if it was just the expression she was making to apply eyeliner. “Why?” I asked. “Did she say something to you?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it though. Like I said . . . time.”
When Bethany handed us our drinks, I took a sip and made a face. “Can I get some soda with my vodka?”
She laughed sharply as she skipped out of the room.
“I was serious,” I mumbled.
“Well, if you end up single after all this, you’re gonna have to learn how to hang again,” Gretchen teased.
Single? My journal entry had had the effect I was looking for: a reminder of Bill and me before all this began. It didn’t lessen what I felt for David, but I didn’t think anything ever would. Was the reminder enough to tempt me back to the even, steady life Bill could offer me though?
“Wow, I’m kidding,” she said, examining my face. “You’re not single. When you have a man like David, never let him go. And certainly don’t drive him away, Liv. We’ll see what Dani says tonight, but if it’s what I think, you’d better go running back to David.”
I nodded and looked at the carpet. “Sometimes it seems too good to be true,” I muttered.
“Don’t worry so much. You have to learn to go with the flow. It’ll all work out.”
I heaved a deep sigh and looked at her. Then I took a big gulp of my potent drink, and she smiled from ear to ear.
“Atta girl!” she praised.
~
We were women on a mission. Ava and Bethany were happy to offer their services, so the four of us descended upon Gilt Bar in full detective mode. After scanning the restaurant, we made our way downstairs and headed directly to the bar. Without my help, the three of them procured us a free round of drinks and we turned in unison, leaning our elbows against the bar.
“No, this is too obvious,” I said. “We look crazy.”
We pivoted and formed a circle instead, swaying slightly to the beat of the music. As we chatted, I checked my phone slyly, even though I knew there’d be nothing. Not hearing from David sucked, and it wasn’t like him. I wasn’t sure if he was angry, and I wasn’t sure if he had a right to be. I still didn’t know what I was doing either. Was I driving him away? Somewhere inside, was that what I wanted – to drive him away before he could hurt me?
I fleetingly wondered if he was all right, if maybe I should check on him. I could just send him a quick text –
“There she is,” Bethany hissed before I could complete the thought.
“Where?” Gretchen’s spine straightened, and her eyes darted around the dark space. “That’s not her!” she cried.
“No, behind that one. Short purple dress.”
“Oh,” we all said in unison.
She was with a large group of people who had just walked in and was laughing with another woman. I blinked slowly as I reunited with my new friend Jealousy. Danielle. Brown hair, green eyes. Nice figure. Did he sleep with her? The thought of him touching her had my blood simmering. I gritted my teeth as I tried to block the image of the big hands I loved so much sliding over her satin violet dress, dragging the zipper down . . .
“Liv!” Gretchen squealed, and everyone jumped back.
“Shit!” My feet were wet, my hand empty, and broken glass crunched under our feet. “There goes my free drink,” I said, pouting.
When I looked up again, Dani was glaring in our direction. My heart stopped as her green eyes bored into me from across the room. She looked between all of us and then whispered something into her friend’s ear. I watched, red-faced, as her friend turned to look at us. Her mouth moved, and they started laughing.
I cursed again under my breath and grabbed a napkin, blotting the front of the dress I was borrowing from Gretchen.
“She looks pissed,” Ava observed, and I shot her an annoyed look. “Just sayin’.”
I turned my back to everyone to gather my thoughts. There was just one thing I needed to figure out. She had one piece of vital information as to whether or not I could move forward with David. I smiled to myself, wishing he would magically walk in the door at that moment. I removed my phone to write the text I had meant to send a few minutes earlier but stopped myself. It wasn’t fair to him until I had the answers we both needed. And what if she confirmed Bill’s story? Then the text would be out there, something I couldn’t take back.
I went
back to the bar and bought myself a new drink. Liquid courage and all that. I instructed the group to hang back, because I didn’t want Dani to think we were ganging up on her.
I made a beeline for her, cleared my throat and tapped on her shoulder. “Dani?”
She turned, and her face tightened. “What?”
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“I’m good,” she said, twisting back around.
“Dani,” I pleaded.
She gave me an exasperated look. “What, Liv?”
“I’m sorry that things didn’t work out for you and David, especially if I had anything to do with it.”
“Obviously you did. Things were going great between me and him.”
“Okay, well, I’m sorry that you got hurt.”
“Shouldn’t you be apologizing to your husband?” she asked. Her friend snickered into her hand, and I shot the back of her head a look.
“That’s between Bill and me.”
“I’ve seen Bill, you know. He’s at Andrew and Lucy’s all the time. He’s devastated.”
“I’m aware.”
“Whatever. Is that it?” She arched a manicured eyebrow at me.
“No,” I said, heaving a deep sigh. “I have to ask you something, but it’s sort of . . . private,” I said, glancing at the friend.
“Go ahead.”
I swallowed dryly. “I saw Bill this morning. He seems to think that you and David slept together. David denies it. So did you?”
Her shoulders tensed. “This really isn’t my business.”
“I know, and I’m sorry to drag you in. It’s just that I need to know.”
“If you can’t trust David, why are you even doing all of this for him?”
I gritted my teeth. “Please, just answer the question.”
She looked around nervously, and I held my breath as I waited. Finally, she said, “I really don’t want to get in the middle, Liv.”
“Is that a yes?”
Come Together Page 15
