“Looking for this?” Jim held up my phone.
“Yes.” I took it from him and sat on the kitchen stool, watching him cut a sandwich in half for me. My stomach turned a little. Ham? Really? What did I do to deserve all that was happening to me?
Five missed calls from Tom, two messages from him wondering where I was, and ten missed calls from Wesley. None from my sister. Whore.
I dropped the phone on the counter and began to cry. Out of the blue. Maybe the pill was a mood enhancer. God, where was my life spiraling to? Why did I put myself on a platter for Wesley? Dress myself up with “here I am again; do with me what you wish.” I was such a stupid jerk. Playing at the foundation, as if I had my crap together. Sure, my husband is now the managing partner. I’ll be handling that fundraiser. What an idiot.
Jim’s hand rested on my shoulder as his other hand handed me a ham on rye. I wiped my eyes with a napkin I found on the counter.
“I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.”
“Don’t worry about it. But Amy?”
“What?” I tried to compose myself.
“I don’t think it’s a good time to ask your sister out.”
I laughed. Then I cried again.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make light of it. You weren’t really into that jerk, were you? You could do so much better.” He sat down beside me and laid his arm across my shoulders.
“I thought he really found out I was who he wanted.”
“Consider yourself missing a huge boulder that one day would mash you down until you were unrecognizable. He’s not worth your tears, Amy.”
I buried my head in my hands. I’d never get this right.
“Give me a minute, will you? I’ve got to make a call.”
I knew if I didn’t call Tom, he’d drive to my house to check on me. I pressed his number and sat up tall in my seat, wiping my pity tears away into the napkin. Boy, I hoped I didn’t break down while I was on the phone with him.
He answered on the first ring. “Amy?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner. Time got away from me, I guess. We’ve been doing this and that and I wasn’t paying attention.” I bit my lip, trying not to lose my stuff again.
“You said you were coming over after lunch, though.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“Can you still come over?”
Oh no! He still wanted me to come over. “I’m kind of busy. How about tomorrow?”
“Kate invited me for breakfast, but I can cancel. It’s weird to go out on Christmas morning, isn’t it?”
“No. Go, Tom.” My lip quivered. Sadness rushed over me like a waterfall. “Kate is a good woman. She’s probably already got the bacon and eggs in the fridge, waiting for your arrival.”
“Amy, I’d rather see you. Can you come?”
“After lunch, I promise. Now you promise me you’ll have breakfast with her?”
Hurry up. I don’t know how much more I can keep this dam from breaking and bringing out all the tears I’ve held in over the months.
“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right? You sound different.”
Darn that man. Why did he know me so well?
“Of course I am. Now sleep well.”
“Okay. You too. Good-night.”
I got off the phone and shoved away the plate Jim had made me and began to cry again. This time for Tom. Because I wanted so to tell him. To lie on his shoulder and cry until it was all better. To have him there beside me, like he’d been so many times before.
I walked into the house and sensed a coldness about it. Despite my perfect living room set, the fact that it was Christmas and the temperature was warm—there was a feeling of a mortuary. Something had died. The stillness made me uneasy. I’d texted Ashley that out of respect for me that she and Wesley should be gone when I went over and picked up a few things. I couldn’t go to Tom’s and seem normal wearing yesterday’s clothing and evidence of heartbreak stuck to my face. I needed and wanted my own belongings to get ready.
My bedroom was empty. Empty of everything. Thank God it didn’t have a smell of sex in it, rumpled sheets, and askew frames on the wall. Lord knows that’s all I pictured the entire night. Yes, Christmas Eve, the night when all the little people of the world are all worked up about Santa coming down chimneys and leaving presents, I’m thinking about my husband and my sister reenacting Fifty Shades of Grey. I pushed the worn-out imagery from my mind and went to the bathroom to retrieve my toiletries.
I was halfway finished with putting them in my overnight bag when I looked up and saw Wesley in the doorway. I jumped. “Good Lord, why are you here, Wesley? You scared me half to death. I told Ashley I wanted to be alone.”
“I needed to see you.”
He still wore what the sap-sucker had on yesterday. I remember the blue sleeve, watching it grope my sister in the kitchen downstairs. Seeing the entire motion picture playing under a microscope in my mind all night. The back side of his pants as they pressed against her. His elbow locked against her. Ahh…
“Well, I don’t need to see you.” I pushed past him and went to the closet where my suitcase was. I felt as if it was only a few days ago that I’d unpacked the stupid thing. So much for settling.
“Amy, I need to talk to you. I need to know you’re okay.”
I threw my bag on the bed and emptied my things from the drawers into it. “Okay? You need to know if I’m okay? Let’s see now—I come in the kitchen of my home, where I was absent buying you a Christmas gift (I was buying one for Ashley and Tom, too, but who’s accounting for everything here) and see you ramming my sister.” Ramming? I couldn’t seem to think of a better verb. Now I pictured him as a goat.
He grabbed his head and cowered down, finding a spot to sit on at the end of the bed. I tried not to look at the puddle of pathetic mess. This was all him. He made his bed, let him sleep in it. With or without Ashley. I couldn’t care less. I had no one in the world now.
“Amy, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry I came in on you or sorry for screwing me over? Yet again.” I threw my pants and overshot the bag.
“Would you stop for a second and talk to me.” He turned around, his eyes serious.
I stopped momentarily and froze in the spot I was standing. This man—this guy I’d given myself to for the last six years of my life—had ripped my heart out again. And the funny thing was I wasn’t surprised. There comes a time where you just know it doesn’t get any better than this.
“I should’ve never kissed Ashley. I should’ve never—”
“Why?”
He lost his track of thought and looked up. “What?”
“Why shouldn’t you have kissed Ashley?”
“Well, mainly because we’re married.”
“Did you want to kiss Ashley?”
His lips remained closed.
“I repeat: did you want to kiss Ashley? Have you been thinking about it for a while now? Has there ever been a day that if Ashley walked up to you and forced herself on you that you would’ve pushed her aside and told her no?”
“I don’t know what you’re driving at, Amy. I married you.”
“That’s what I’m driving at, Wesley. Should you’ve even have married me? I know you went to see her before we said our vows. For what that’s worth. I know, from experience in high school, that she’s the only person you’ve ever loved. Did you ever love me?” I wiped a tear that crawled down my cheek. “Or was I the closest thing to her that you could have? On a silver platter if you’d wanted.”
“Don’t.” He stood and walked toward me.
“Don’t what?” I couldn’t stop the parade of tears that seemed to be marching at a fast speed from my tear ducts.
He touched my shoulder. “Don’t do this. I loved you, Amy.”
I stepped back, wiping my face and madly laughing. It was a Joker moment, where insanity overrode any sensibility I had. “Loved? Well, I can rest now knowing you loved me. When did it st
op, Wesley? Please tell me before you started screwing Violet. And coming home to live with me during the work week.”
“Violet was an escape for me.”
“I’m sure you were nothing more than a gravy train to her.” The jab felt nice, and then mean. Why was I being mean? Oh yeah, because he was churning my heart in a blender at the moment. Having a come-to-Jesus talk about what he really thought about our relationship.
“If you were so in love with me, then how is it that you were going to move in with my doctor?”
My stare was blank. I was seeing him but not really. I knew where he was heading this bus. But it was my bus, dammit, and I was the one driving. Not him. I would not be on the hot seat.
“Kind of what you do when your husband runs off, isn’t it?”
“Amy, do you love me?”
Yes, I loved him. What a stupid question. “Of course. I came back, didn’t I?”
“How long did it take you?”
“What?” I had that stupid look on my face. The one he usually wore when I asked an obvious question.
“I came home and we technically got back together, but it took you weeks to come back to the house and live with me. Hell, we haven’t even technically slept together yet. You’ve got those pajamas buttoned up to your chin.”
What? I really thought he didn’t even notice, and what was with all this “technically” crap? Technically, I just found you trying to screw my sister. Why are we splitting hairs about how long it took me to move back in? Obviously I should’ve never come.
“What is your point?”
“My point is that, although I wanted a second chance with you at the cabin, I think you were just going along with it because you felt obligated.”
“What?! I didn’t feel obligated.”
“Maybe that’s what I was hoping when I asked you.”
“Okay, you’ve confused me. Did you want me for the sake of wanting me or did you just want me to come back to help in the transition of the law firm?”
“I’m not sure.”
I shoved the suitcase over and sat down. My head felt woozy. I put it between my knees.
“I think I wanted you back because I was scared without you. You’d been such a permanent fixture in my life. I didn’t know if I could do it without you.”
Now there’s what I’ve strived my whole life to be—a fixture.
“Have you ever loved me?” I asked, my voice muffled because I was speaking from between my knees.
“Of course.”
My head rose up. The rush of blood caught up to the sudden movement. “Were you ever in love with me?”
His gaze fell to the ground. “I suppose, on a level we were used to.”
“We?”
“Amy, were you in love with me?”
I didn’t know at this point. So much of my life was out of duty and obligation. When I told Mark about my relationship with Wesley, I kind of felt he wasn’t the one I’d fallen in love with. Didn’t you only have one person you truly loved per lifetime? Since experiencing some other things, I’d assessed that, although Wesley, at one time, made my knees weak, now he only served as a fixture. My Lord, we were fixtures. Then the whole “old shoe” scenario popped in my head.
“I was at one time.” I buried my shameful face into my hands. “I think I was in love with the idea of you. That someone I’d had an enormous crush on all my life had finally married me. I loved the idea of you.”
He seemed crushed by my confession. His body shrugged against the wall of the bedroom.
“I think this actually had to happen.”
“Excuse me?”
He switched from whatever far-off land he was in and looked at me. “I think we both knew our time was over. And we were settling again.”
I got up from the bed and closed my case. It was finally over. All the sting was gone. Facing the truth was exhausting. It was as if all the air I’d had in me fizzed out like a slow leak—an unstoppable leak. The kind that took away all your energy. I needed to carry my bags down to the car before I collapsed.
“I’ll be seeing you.”
I didn’t turn around to look at him. I knew I had a couple more pints of tears in me that would eventually make their way out, too. No sense in babbling with them here. My life, as I knew it with Wesley Whitfield, was over. And although I wasn’t surprised by it, I mourned it all the same.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I stepped on the porch of Tom’s house and straightened my shirt. I had been wearing my fake smile the entire way over there. Jim let me borrow his car to go. It’s not as if he didn’t have a couple of others parked in his garage. He was headed over to his mother’s house for Christmas dinner and told me to take my time. After I’d showered and stuffed Tom’s gifts into a bag, I headed out. I even stuffed the things I got for Wesley in the bag. No sense in letting a cool tie go to waste just because my marriage was finally tanked. For the last and final time.
“Hey, why didn’t you use your key?” he asked as he opened the door.
“I don’t know. I thought this way seemed more Christmas-like. You know, the porch thing, again?”
The fact of the matter was I didn’t want to slide back into “Tom land” again. This was not a place where I’d come to every time my world came off its axis. He would know nothing of my circumstances. He had Kate, and she had him. I would be a friend to them both and that would be it.
“Well, come in.” He ushered me inside. I tried not to make eye contact. The man could read me like a billboard sign.
“Is Kate here?” I asked, trying to remind myself of the poor widow and all that she hoped to be accomplishing with the New Year approaching. New Year, new man, new life. Yay for her!
“No, don’t you remember? I had breakfast with her.”
“Sure. I just thought I’d find you two snuggled up somewhere, watching black-and-white Christmas movies. Wearing those fuzzy socks and sipping hot chocolate.”
The thought almost made me cry. Why couldn’t I be doing that? It was Christmas, for goodness’ sakes. Wasn’t it sacrilegious to get dumped on Jesus’s birthday? The only tradition I’d seemed to acknowledge today was eggnog. And only because Jim poured me a glass while I was slipping Visine in my eyes before coming over here. Other than that, packing up my old life from a husband who I would never see again was the norm. Fa-la-la-la-la. Oh, and I pushed Ignore a few times when Ashley tried to call.
“No, I’m sorry to disappoint you. But we can, if you’d like. Just open your gift first.”
I hit him on the shoulder and walked in to the living room with him. Oh, the tree was so beautiful. I’m so glad I didn’t get one for my house. That certainly would’ve been an ugly memory: carrying out bags while the lights twinkled on our tree with all our beautiful ornaments.
“Here.” He handed me a small box from underneath the tree.
I set my things down and took it from him. “I wonder what this could be?”
I tore into it. “No freaking way!” I sat there a moment, frozen at what I saw. I grabbed at the tear that seemed not to know better and was falling down my face.
“Oh my goodness, Amy. I had no idea I’d get this reaction.” He walked away to get me a tissue.
“It’s just so perfect. You know me so well.”
He handed me the tissue and sat back down. “What’s wrong?”
I wiped my face and cursed the water-making part of my brain. Get it together in there, will ya?
It was a pair of blue minky slipper socks and It’s a Wonderful Life on DVD, the deluxe version, with a bell and all! How did this man get me? Only after knowing him all of nine months, and my husband had no idea after more than half a decade. Two Christmases ago, he got me a coffee maker. I don’t even drink coffee. But he said that since it had a timer, I wouldn’t have to get up and start his pot. This would do it all by itself. What a Romeo. And I thought I was in love with him.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just nostalgic when it comes to Christmas
.”
“No, something’s wrong. What is it?”
He moved closer to me. I wanted so badly to come clean. Tell him I was homeless, carless, and soulless. Isn’t that what you call someone who lives with someone else without really checking in and figuring out why? I must’ve not been feeling for the last couple of years of my life. No wonder I was so quick to move in with Mark. I was just coming around to feeling alive again with him. And yet I hadn’t even taken the time to check whether what we wanted was the same thing.
“Tom, I assure you, nothing is wrong. Now open your gifts from me. They’re nothing big.”
He kept one eye on me as he unwrapped his tie, socks, and gloves from the tissue paper. What else do you get a guy? It’s not as though he was into rock climbing and sailing. The man was very uncomplicated. So my speed. Correction, so Kate’s speed. Poor woman was probably watching the clock to see when it was appropriate to call him again. She confided in me that her life had become so much more colorful just knowing she was going to spend time with Tom. I knew the feeling.
“I love them all. And look—a paisley tie! I’ve never had one of these before.” He held it up, smiling.
“I’m glad you like it.” I looked around for a segue to leave. I couldn’t be here now. With him…pretending to be happy. “I really have to be going.” I stood up from the sofa. I placed all the things he bought me into a Christmas bag. In addition to the movie and slippers, he had got me a beautiful necklace, a bottle of cologne, and a gift card to the pretzel shop.
“Don’t go just yet.”
“Tom, I have Wesley waiting for me. We’re eating dinner in a few hours. Ashley is at home in the kitchen (perish the thought), probably making a mess.” Or love to my ex-husband. Yeah, that’s right. Not soon-to-be; ex-husband. It was finally over. The agony was gone. Like an elephant who’d just stepped off my chest. I was free from the facade of our happy, dysfunctional, sexless life.
“All right, then.”
He stood in front of me, swaying a little bit back and forth. I wasn’t quite sure what was going on. I was trying my best to keep him in the category of “Kate’s man.” Finally, he bent down and kissed my cheek. My eyes closed and I absorbed the moment.
Leaving Amy (Amy #2) Page 23
