Show Me Something

by Aubrey Bondurant

  That future was also on Mark’s mind, judging by the mission he’d undertaken to knock me up. Not that I was complaining considering the man could hardly keep his hands to himself. I found myself looking forward to this new chapter of my life. A life with Mark, Tristan and, with any luck, a new baby. I wondered how Tristan would take to being a big brother.

  Intending to leave town in the next couple days, I spent the entire morning on Wednesday packing and cleaning the apartment. By afternoon, I felt restless. I picked up Tristan from upstairs, bundled him up, and put him in his stroller. We could take one last walk across the Yale campus.

  Winter was settling in, with the air crisp and fresh. I walked with a pep in my step, admiring the Christmas decorations starting to crop up around the town.

  The plan for the move was that Mark would drive down with me. I’d stay with my mother for a week while he did some business-related travel and prepared to relocate his job down to Charlotte. I’d lined up a couple of rentals we’d be viewing this weekend. With some luck, I could move in plenty of time to put up a tree for Christmas and make it festive. Then Mark would hopefully be moving in after the new year.

  I listened to Tristan jabber while I pushed him and shifted my thoughts to the dinner I was planning to make tonight for Haylee. It would be our last girls’ night, but at least I got to look forward to her moving to North Carolina in the next couple of years.

  Imagine my astonishment when, amongst the dozens of students milling around in the quad, I spotted Mark coming out of one of the buildings. He was walking towards us. Since he was still affiliated with the law school, it didn’t strike me as strange that he was here. But it wasn’t until I was less than five feet away from him, about to say hello, that I realized he wasn’t alone. Walking with him was a pretty blonde with a fuzzy beret and a long down coat cinched at the waist. She was smiling up at him while he said something to her.

  I saw the moment Mark’s gaze focused on us. Telling my inner doubts to shut the hell up, I swallowed down my unease. She was probably a student or a colleague. “Hey, Mark.”

  “Mark, Mark,” Tristan said excitedly.

  “Hey, guys.” His voice sounded weird, strained.

  The blonde stopped, looking at us curiously and then back at him. Since it was clear he had no intention of doing so, she made the introductions. “Hi, I’m Lauren.”

  I smiled, as she appeared warm and friendly. Definitely not catty or the least bit territorial. “I’m Juliette, and this is my son, Tristan.”

  She gave him a little wave and then glanced between us and Mark. “Uh, how do you guys know one another?”

  The moment suddenly suspended, seemingly slowing down while I awaited his answer. I was unprepared for how much his next words hurt.

  “Uh, they’re my neighbors. They moved in a couple months ago.”

  I could feel my face heating with a combination of humiliation and anger.

  “Oh, in the Tinkermans’ house? I’ve always loved that place.”

  “Uh, no, I meant at the building with my office.”

  She knew where he lived? Knew the Tinkermans lived next door? “And how do you, um, know each other?” I was impressed with how calm my voice sounded despite the dread settling in my stomach.

  “Gosh, I guess we’re sort of like family. He was engaged to my sister.” Checking her watch, Lauren gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry. If we want to make dinner on time, we’d better go, but it was nice meeting you, Juliette. And you, too, Tristan.”

  I forced myself to smile in return as she’d been nothing but kind. Though Mark wasn’t meeting my eyes, I didn’t want to make a scene. “You, too. Take care.” I turned on my heel before Mark had the chance to say something even more hurtful, like “see you around, neighbor.”

  ***

  One of the things I’d become scarily adept at doing towards the end of my marriage was completely internalizing the hurt and shutting off the pain. It was a coping mechanism that came in handy as I made dinner for Haylee that evening and listened to her chat on. I refused to think about the knock that didn’t come, the explanation which wasn’t given, and that Mark was at dinner with Lauren and her family tonight.

  Haylee and Abby provided a welcome distraction through the meal.

  “Everything okay with you?” Haylee looked at me curiously after we’d stuffed ourselves on chicken parmesan.

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just stressed, I suppose, about moving back.”

  She smiled. “I bet. And please don’t worry about cleaning the apartment before you go. One less thing.”

  As if. “Thank you. I don’t only mean for that. I mean for everything. I, um—” Damn, I was getting emotional. If I didn’t rein it in, I would be a blubbering mess. “Offering Tristan and me a place to live and being so very generous with everything. I really can’t thank you enough.”

  Haylee teared up, giving me a hug. “Aww. We’re going to miss you a lot. And I love that we became even closer friends.”

  “Me, too.”

  After Haylee had left, I put Tristan to bed and was working on the dishes when I heard the knock on the door. I called out that it was open. As Mark came in, I felt the emotions start to overwhelm me.

  He shed his coat and walked to the kitchen, eyes on me. “Talk to me, Jules.”

  I dried a pan and put it in the cabinet. I was grateful that at least he wasn’t pretending everything was normal. “What would you like me to say?”

  He sighed loudly. “I realize you’re upset, but it was my fiancée’s birthday today—or would’ve been. All I did was have dinner with Lauren and her family.”

  Not former fiancée. His fiancée, as if she’d always be that to him. I stopped what I was doing and faced him. “What was her name? Your fiancée? I only know it started with an S.”

  He hesitated, then softly said, “Sarah.”

  It was the first time he’d spoken her name to me. I thought how sad it was that, in this entire time, he’d never mentioned her and I’d never asked until now. “You could’ve told me where you were going. What today was.”

  My voice was sympathetic. I refused to shout or fight. I simply wanted answers.

  “I didn’t know how. But I’m sorry.”

  I swallowed hard. “You called me and Tristan your neighbors.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t tell Lauren the truth—not on her sister’s birthday.”

  “Then when? Maybe the same time you’d get around to telling anyone else about us.” Because, suddenly, I didn’t believe him when he said he wanted to tell Brian in person and Josh afterward. I saw it for what it was: a delay tactic.

  “It’s not like that.”

  I walked into the living room, needing space. “What’s it like, then?”

  He answered my question with one of his own, deflecting and looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Where is this coming from? We agreed to wait.”

  I fought the nausea that threatened. “No, you convinced me to wait. But today you completely dismissed not only me, but also my son. The two people you professed to want as a part of your future.” My voice was down to a whisper with the last word.

  “Jules—” He took a step towards me.

  I knew if I allowed him to touch me, all of my resolve would be gone. So I held up my hand to keep him from coming any closer. “Please don’t make this any harder.”

  His gaze searched mine. “Why does it need to be hard? I don’t understand. I thought we were on the same page.”

  “And what is that page?”

  “Planning a future together. I didn’t mean to make you feel dismissed, and I’m sorry.”

  “Do you love me?”

  His eyes flashed in panic at my question. “You know how I feel about you.”

  I shook my head, feeling an absolute fool for not understanding his limitations sooner. That he might not be as ready to move on as I’d assumed. I had attributed my doubts to my own insecurities and hadn’t asked him the hard questions for fear of the rea
l answers. “Actually, I don’t know.”

  “I wouldn’t be planning a future with you—which includes having a baby—if I wasn’t serious about us.”

  “But that’s not what I asked. I asked if you loved me.”

  He raked a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves. “I just—I’m the sort of person who has a hard time saying it, that’s all.”

  “Did you say it to Sarah?” I kept my voice quiet.

  Now that the door was open, I was jumping in head first. Whether I was doing this in pursuit of the truth or to punish myself for not realizing all of this sooner, I wasn’t sure. But saying her name out loud for the first time caused chills down my body.

  His jaw clenched in response. “Don’t.”

  The tears started to well up as insecurity overwhelmed me. “Don’t what? Ask questions? Say her name? Why? Am I not worthy, Mark?”

  His fists clenched. “You know that isn’t it. But this is between us. It has nothing to do with her.”

  I smiled sadly. “It seems to have a lot to do with her, actually.”

  “A relationship is more than those three words between people. I want my future with you as my wife. Tristan and more kids with us as a family. Don’t actions count for something?”

  I could taste the salt from a few escaped tears on my lips as I willed myself to go further towards the point of no return. “You’re right. They do. Then let’s go get married. Before I’m pregnant. We could go down to the courthouse tomorrow morning.”

  The alarm on his face told me everything I needed to know. “You don’t want a courthouse wedding. At the very least, we’d want your mother there.”

  I was pushing, even while recognizing that in doing so our relationship would never be the same. But I hadn’t been brave enough in my marriage and it had cost me years of settling, which had eventually turned into a ball of resentment. I wasn’t about to ignore my gut feeling on this. Not this time. “Then we’ll set a date for a month from now and tell our friends and family tomorrow. Call them in the morning with the news.”

  “I don’t have a ring.”

  “I don’t need one.” It was interesting he hadn’t bought one yet if he was so set on our future together. Once again, this highlighted my naiveté.

  “Yes, you do. I don’t want to announce an engagement without a ring on your finger.”

  “Fine, then we’ll go get one tomorrow and tell everyone after.”

  He paced the room, obviously out of excuses. “Why are you pushing this?”

  “Why? Jesus, Mark. We’re trying to make a baby together, but you can’t tell me you love me. You can’t tell people about me as though I’m your dirty little secret. And it seems like you won’t propose or marry me unless I get knocked up first.”

  The reality of what I’d just said out loud slammed into me. “You’re hoping I get pregnant so you’re then obligated to marry me, aren’t you? That way you don’t have to feel guilty for wanting to.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Apparently, I can’t have anything you had with Sarah. Not a real date, not your love, and not even a ring on my finger before the two pink lines.”

  “This, between us, along with Tristan—this is all I need.”

  “But it’s not all I need.” My voice broke with emotion. “I know you care about me, and I believe you do want a family, but it’s not enough.”

  Exasperation was etched on his handsome face. “I’m giving you all I can.”

  “I know.” God, did I. “But for the first time in my life, I can’t settle for that.”

  “Now I’m like him? I’m like the asshole you were married to?” His temper was evident with the flash of his eyes and clipped tone.

  The tears started falling freely now as I was resigned in my answer. “No. You’re nothing like him. You’re the man who helped me realize I deserve more. But it’s as you said: you’re giving me all you can.”

  “Why isn’t that enough? You’ve been married. You’re thirty years old with a son. There’s a lot more to think about than going on pointless dates and contrived romance. What we have is real.”

  I sucked in my breath. I knew he was hurting, but that didn’t excuse his implication. “So, because I’m a single mom who had a shitty first marriage, I’m supposed to—what? Be thankful for anything that’s thrown my way?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. It came out wrong.”

  His condescending voice instantly pissed me off. “No, but it’s what you said. You make it sound as though I should be grateful for whatever I can get.”

  “I would never even think that. But you’re caught up in the trappings of convention. What did it do for you the last time around, huh? You had the courtship, the engagement, the wedding. This is more.”

  “Then tell me you love me. Tell the world about us as a couple without me getting pregnant first,” I challenged.

  “Jules, don’t do this.”

  My heart didn’t just break in two, it shattered. He was unable to want me for only me. Every insecurity I’d been conquering over the last few weeks slammed back with a vengeance. “You’ll have to be more specific about what you don’t want me to do: want more? Love you? Want you to love me?”

  He stepped closer, looking exhausted. I felt a measure of guilt about bringing all of this up on Sarah’s birthday.

  “I want to give you the world.”

  But not his heart. That still belonged in the past.

  “If that’s true, then why can’t our friends and families know about us? Do you realize how it makes me feel that you want to keep us a secret? It’s as though you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “But it feels true.” In my gut, I knew that any woman in my situation would have had the same reaction to what had happened on campus. It didn’t matter that it hit my trigger points.

  “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

  “I know you didn’t.” I did believe him in my heart and my head, but his lack of intention to hurt me only proved the point. He wasn’t ready to move on. He might not mean to make me feel this way, but he couldn’t help himself, either.

  He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Can we please table this until tomorrow? I’m approaching capacity for today. This on top of it is a lot.”

  In that moment, I grasped that whatever he was struggling with went deep. “I know it is.”

  “I would like to go home, get some sleep, and start over tomorrow. Can we do that? Please?”

  I nodded, trying not to resent the fact that I’d yet to see the home where he would be sleeping tonight. “Sure. Of course.”

  Relief immediately came over his expression. He came over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  He left, going out my door without a glance back, seemingly in a hurry to get away.

  I lasted the time it took to hear his retreating footsteps down the hall before I collapsed in silent sobs onto the floor.

  ***

  After a full hour of crying, I picked myself off the floor and thought one thing: I needed to leave.

  Right now. Because I didn’t trust myself to stay. Tomorrow, Mark would come over. Did I really think he’d be ready to love me then? He’d said everything by not saying enough. Although it was tempting to wait, hoping he’d change his mind, I knew myself too well. Hoping for that change would end up becoming a rabbit hole I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of it. I’d stayed once, waiting for someone to love me the way I deserved. I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t stay.

  Hope was for optimists, and I was a realist. My reality was that I needed to plan for my future with my son. I refused to wallow in misery. I didn’t have the luxury. Instead, I had a little person relying on me to keep my shit together. Step one was going home.

  Knowing Mark would be by tomorrow, I took the chicken way out and started packing up my SUV tonight.

/>   It took two hours and a dozen trips to load everything up, then another hour to finish cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. The last thing I wanted was to skip out leaving a dirty apartment behind. That would hardly show my appreciation.

  Finally, I penned a note to Haylee and another one to Mark. I left them both in envelopes, thinking I would slip them under their doors in the morning. Settling onto the couch, I planned to get on the road at the crack of dawn.

  ***

  After eight hours of driving, two of them stuck in commuter traffic, we finally stopped at a Marriott I’d reserved online. We were ten miles south of Washington DC off of I-95. This would split the trip in two parts and ensure I didn’t take risks with a long drive straight through. I counted my blessings that the drive had been uneventful thus far. Tristan had slept for more than half the time, and we’d only stopped once for gas and his lunch. I made two trips, toddler in hand, to get our suitcases into the hotel room. God willing, nothing would get stolen from my car while it sat overnight in the hotel parking lot.

  Thankful I’d packed snacks, I went about getting Tristan bathed and into pajamas, ready for bed despite the fact it was only late afternoon. Doing so now made one less thing to do before falling into bed tonight. As it was, I was ready for sleep now.

  We’d settled down for television, and I’d ordered room service when Mark’s number flashed up.

  “Hello.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Did you get my note?”

  “Yes, but I don’t understand. On a whim, you decided to pack up and move? I thought we were tabling this until today to talk some more.”

  “We’re talking now.” My voice was flat, resigned.

  “I wanted face to face. And I was supposed to drive down with you. Why did you leave?”