Come Together Page 2

  “You fell off the chair,” he replied. “I think you hit your head.”

  My eyes remained on him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everything. But I’m leaving.”

  I hit the floor with a thud, wincing when my elbows connected with the linoleum. He stood and looked down at me, blinking with obvious disbelief. “You’re leaving? What does that mean?”

  I eased off my back and onto one elbow. Everything I had planned to say vanished from my thoughts, and now I just searched for anything.

  “I’m done with the games,” he said quietly. “Just say it.”

  “I’m leaving you.”

  “You are leaving me?

  “I’m so sorry,” I said as I got to my feet. “The last few months, the terrible way I’ve treated you . . . I tried to forget him, to make things work between you and me.”

  “You have a hell of a way of making things work.”

  “I didn’t want this.”

  “The affair has been an adjustment,” he said. “Maybe I’m doing it wrong. Maybe I should be handling it differently. I’ve done a lot of thinking since you told me, though. I see there are things we could work on. I want to try. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over this, but I want to try.”

  “Bill,” I whispered, fidgeting in the middle of the kitchen. “I love him.”

  His jaw flexed, and I read the shock in his eyes. His head tilted to the side. “You love him?”

  “Yes.”

  His entire body jerked. “Love? You never told me things were that far.”

  “You didn’t ask,” I stated.

  “I didn’t ask? It didn’t occur to me that a sensible woman like you could fall in love with someone like that.”

  “It didn’t?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think it did occur to you, but you didn’t care enough to ask.”

  He rubbed his fingers over his forehead. “Of course I care,” he muttered.

  “I know you do,” I said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “And what about me?” he asked, looking directly at me. “Don’t you love me?”

  I swallowed the rising lump in my throat. “It’s not that simple.”

  “What’s more simple than that?” His hair flopped over his forehead, and he pushed his hands through it. He began pacing the length of the kitchen.

  I drew in halting breaths. “Bill, I love you, I always will. But this isn’t working – ”

  “It’s not working? I don’t understand how that’s my fault. It was working, then you slept with another man, and now it’s not working. How am I the one who gets screwed?”

  “There are things,” I said slowly, “that I didn’t know I wanted. And now I see that you and I have never been right.”

  “Right? You wield that word like it has magical powers. Like saying it gets you out of all sorts of shit. The houses we’ve seen weren’t ‘right.’ Having a kid now isn’t ‘right.’ Nothing is ever ‘right’ for you. Did it ever occur to you that maybe your version of right is wrong? Is it right slumming around with a swarthy jerk like David Dylan and ending a perfectly good thing for a fling? You really need to look at the facts here, Liv. You’ve always been able to do that because you’re sensible.”

  “I’m not sensible. I’m scared.”

  “The Liv I know is smart, practical – she doesn’t act on emotion like this.”

  “I know, but maybe that’s not me. That’s who took over when my parents divorced. I’m sorry you got that version of me, the one who couldn’t love you like you deserved.” I sighed, watching him tread back and forth.

  “I feel more confused now than I did all last month. I don’t know what’s happening.”

  “I think one day you’ll look back, and you’ll thank me for this.”

  He whirled to face me. “Thank you? Thank you for the fuck what?”

  It had sounded right in my head, but as soon as I’d said it, I regretted it, so I didn’t respond.

  “Look, maybe we need to take a break,” he said. “Cool off for a couple weeks or something, I don’t know. Didn’t you say that Davena and Mack did that once? You idolized Davena before she passed away, even more than your own mother. Look how in love they were, more than anyone we know, yet even they needed a break.”

  I nodded. “Yes, but – ”

  “I can get on board with a break, all right? They’re busting my ass at work right now. I can focus on that while you sort everything out.”

  “No.”

  “What then?”

  “Nothing,” I said.

  “There can’t be nothing I can do. There has to be a solution here.”

  I pointed to my duffel bag by the door. “I’m leaving you, Bill.”

  He stopped and looked at me. “There’s no way this can be it. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “I know it doesn’t to you, and I doubt it ever will. But I’m leaving.”

  “Leaving, huh? Why can’t you just say it?”

  “Say what?” I asked.

  “I want you to tell me what you are doing to this marriage.”

  “I did. I’m leaving.”

  “No – you know what I’m asking.”

  I wrung my fingers in front of me. “I’m leaving you for another – ”

  “No.”

  My nails bit into my palms. My heart jumped. He wanted me to recognize that in the end, I was the reason we were facing the one thing I’d spent my life hiding from. “Divorce,” I said quietly.

  “This is a joke. You’re living in a fantasy, you know that?”

  “I don’t really know how this works,” I said with a deep breath, “but we can talk more when you’ve had time to process this.”

  His chin quivered, and I pressed my lips together. “Look at you,” he said. “You can’t even cry over this, the end of your marriage.”

  I was all cried out. But my tears had been for David when I thought I’d never have him; even the night before, when he’d almost left me on this very kitchen floor. Bill was right: for some reason, I was rarely able to cry for him, in his presence, like he wanted. I couldn’t explain that, so I only blinked at him, scared that he might actually cry.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Gretchen’s.”

  He gave a terse laugh. “Figures.”

  “She cares about you too, but she’s my oldest friend.”

  He rolled his eyes. “So you’re just going to stay on her couch? Then what?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, furrowing my brows. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind, and I’d only planned as far as staying with Gretchen for the night.

  He sighed heavily. “Stay here tonight. Let’s work this out.”

  I thought of David, awaiting my call, pissed that he couldn’t be here. And I thought of Gretchen, likely freezing downstairs on a cold November night. And then I thought of staying the night here with Bill and how, actually, no part of me wanted to. “I should go,” I said gently. “We can talk more later.”

  He shook his head at the floor. “Maybe by then you’ll realize.” He paused and swallowed audibly. “Get this . . . thing out of your system. We’ll talk in a few days.”

  I flinched at the word ‘thing’ but nodded. I lifted my left hand up to my face and studied it. Bill’s grandma’s ring was beautiful, but I’d never quite felt a connection to it. I looked on it with appreciation and respect, but it didn’t make my heart spill over. It’d always felt strange, not forming an emotional attachment to my wedding ring. I touched it reverently before twisting it off my finger. I held it out to him.

  He looked between the ring and my face so quickly that my heart dropped. “You’re giving me back your ring?” His voice was eerily low and calm. “You’re giving me back your damn ring?” His face became beet red, and he stalked toward me.

  I backed away, tripping over a dining chair and dropping the ring. “It – it’s your grandmother’s – ”

  In one quick motion, he overturned
the kitchen table so it crashed against the floor. I yelped as he punched a hole in the wall. “Get out,” he snapped.

  I was cowering, unable to make my feet move. “I thought you’d – ”

  “I said get out!” He stormed over to the door, grabbed my duffel bag and tossed it out into the hallway.

  Without a word, I watched his hands twitch and flex as I slunk by him. The door slammed deafeningly after me. I bent down gingerly and picked up the bag while the locks bolted on the other side.

  I looked around at the place that was suddenly, somehow, no longer my home. I focused on circulating the cold air through my lungs as I made my way downstairs and to the street, rattled by the way he had suddenly exploded.

  I glanced down at my hand. It felt different without the ring that had barely left my finger in over three years. Not right or wrong, just different. Final.

  I found Gretchen nervously pacing on the sidewalk. “Hey,” I croaked, my voice catching. I cleared my throat and repeated myself.

  “Shit,” she said. “I almost came up there to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I said. “I’m fine.”

  “Oh, honey, you’re not fine,” she said, pulling me close.

  “No,” I stated. “I’m not. But maybe I will be.” Hurting Bill was gut-wrenchingly awful. Something had given me the strength to do it, though. That something was David, and the promise of moving into new territory with him. It was letting him show me what his version of home meant.

  She put an arm around me, and we began to walk. “How did it go?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “How are these things supposed to go?”

  I felt her shrug against me. “No clue. Did he cry?”

  “Almost. I gave him back the ring.”

  I caught her grimace.

  “I don’t feel right keeping it.”

  “Yes, but . . . maybe it’s a little soon for that.”

  “Soon?” I asked. “What do you mean? Soon, like, David might change his mind?”

  “Uh, no. I mean soon, like, Bill is probably really upset right now and that might’ve been a little insensitive.”

  “Oh.” My face flushed, but I nodded. “I should warn you,” I said, “he might think you’re involved with this.”

  Her eyebrows knit, but her arm tightened around me as we walked. “I don’t care,” she said finally. “Maybe one day we can all be friends again, but for now, I just want to be there for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but I frowned. “I wish Lucy were here.”

  “I know,” she said, squeezing me to her. “She’ll come around, don’t worry.”

  ~

  I wasn’t sure how, but Gretchen had arranged for us to have her apartment to ourselves for the night. Her two roommates, Bethany and Ava, were gone, and I was thankful for it.

  “I have champagne and leftover cake if we’re celebrating,” Gretchen announced, “or ice cream and beer in case you feel like wallowing. Movie choices are The Break-Up, The Notebook or Kill Bill.”

  I made a face as I stifled my laughter. “Kill Bill? That’s awful.”

  “I know. I couldn’t resist.”

  “I think I might like to do a little of both, celebrating and wallowing.”

  “K . . . I can make that work,” she decided, disappearing into the kitchen.

  I curled onto her couch and pulled the throw over myself. I rubbed my sore eyes and sighed. Gretchen’s company was nice, but I couldn’t help wanting to see David now that it was allowed. I had told him I would need space afterward, but now I wasn’t so sure. I wanted to be held by him, to let him comfort me, to finally kiss him without the nagging guilt that was ever-present. I wondered if it would automatically be gone and what that would feel like.

  But it was logical that I take the night to process my feelings over what had just happened. I shot David a quick text to tell him it was done and that I’d arrived safely at Gretchen’s. I promised I’d call him in the morning before work and then shut down my phone for the night.

  Gretchen floated into the room with a plateful of cake and chocolate chip cookies. On her next round, she juggled three bowls: two with ice cream and a larger one full of popcorn.

  “Oh my God,” I said with widened eyes. “This is heaven.” I hadn’t eaten the fajitas after all, and I had expelled anything in my stomach while waiting for Bill. I realized that anxiety had kept me from eating much the past twenty-four hours, and I was suddenly starving. Lastly, she brought out two beers and two glasses of champagne.

  “Have at it,” she said, throwing a piece of popcorn up and catching it in her mouth.

  We vetoed all chick flicks in favor of Caddyshack, one of our childhood favorites. The days to come would be hard, and I didn’t think I had any right to be laughing, but for the rest of the night, I only wanted to get lost in distraction. Just as Rodney Dangerfield was declared a menace, there was a knock on Gretchen’s door. She shot me an uncomfortable look and left the room.

  When she reappeared, my heart skipped a beat because I knew what she would say. “It’s David,” she confirmed. “He’s being rather persistent about seeing you.”

  I stood immediately and walked toward the door before pausing. “Is it okay with you? I don’t want to ruin our night.”

  “It won’t ruin our night,” she said with a smile. “Are you ready to see him?”

  “Yes,” I said and surprised her with a big hug. “I love you.”

  “I think I like Olivia with David,” she teased, smacking me on the behind.

  I opened the front door and was met with David’s wall of a body. He was propped against the doorjamb with two outstretched arms. I lost my breath just at the sight of him, especially when hit with the intensity in his light brown eyes. His black hair was wild in a non-purposeful way, as though he’d been running his hands through it, and he wore a hoodie with jeans. He looked angry, like a small boy who’d lost his favorite toy. “I tried to call.”

  “I turned off my phone,” I said nervously.

  “Tell me it’s over.”

  “I did,” I said. “I texted you – ”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  I blinked at him. He looked determined, edgy; the volatile David with features as sharp as a knife. “It’s over,” I breathed.

  He dropped his arms and scooped me up by my waist, flattening me against his long body. Underneath me, his chest heaved with relief. One hand slid up my back and grasped the nape of my neck. We looked each other in the eyes until our faces were an inch apart, drawing toward one another like magnets. “I’ve been so worried,” he murmured before his lips landed on mine. His warm, mint-flavored mouth invited me in, and our heads tilted away from each other just so we could get closer.

  I melted into his warmth as my arms found their way around his neck. In that gesture, I claimed my reward for everything I’d been through – not just that day, but for months and months. And what a reward it was.

  When we parted, I smiled at him and sifted his silky dark hair through my hands. “It’s over, David,” I whispered. “Over.”

  His forehead rested against mine. “You have no idea what it does to me to hear you say that.”

  I giggled softly. “Actually, I do.”

  “I’ve been thinking about taking you again since I left your apartment last night. You can’t expect me not to get a hard-on the second I see you.”

  I blushed. “Well, can you wait a little longer?”

  He inhaled through his nose and squeezed me tightly. “No,” he said but set me on my feet. “What happened?”

  “It was hard. Very, very hard. I was nervous.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, back in serious mode. “How did he react?”

  “He was confused. I don’t know if he believes it’s really over.”

  “Confused,” he muttered, looking away. When his eyes came back to mine, they were narrowed. “Angry?”

  “He was more sad, I think. He got upset wh
en I gave him the ring back.”

  “Upset how? Did he touch you?” The words rushed out as though he’d been holding in the question all day. He pulled out my arm and pushed up my sleeve, running his hands over my skin.

  “No. He flipped over a table and put a pretty decent hole in the wall, but other than that, no damage done.”

  “Jesus Christ, Olivia. I told you, that’s why I wanted to be there. The thought of you alone with him in that state makes me crazy.”

  “We were together a long time. I know he’d never hurt me.”

  “You can’t know how he’ll react in a situation like this. You just ripped the carpet out from under him.”

  I crossed my arms. “I’m aware. We had this conversation last night.”

  “He could fly off the handle. He could’ve hurt you, and there would’ve been nobody there. In the future, don’t expect to get away with that.”

  “Get away with what?” I asked, reeling back.

  “With telling me how to protect you, how to keep you safe.”

  I was about to react when he suddenly took my left hand and ran his thumb over the empty spot. “I have to say though, this makes me very happy.” He bent his head, kissed the place the ring had been and glanced up at me. “Very happy,” he rumbled.

  I simultaneously felt my insides quicken and my heart melt. With his lips still on my hand, I warned, “It’s going to take a while for me to be okay.”

  “I know, baby.” He dropped my hand and pulled me back into his all-encompassing embrace. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together.”

  I didn’t know how to feel. The only other person who made me feel that secure was my dad, and I didn’t see much of him anymore. Bill had been there for me the best he knew how, but it didn’t always feel like he was on my side. With David, I felt like he was standing next to me, or in front of me, instead of somewhere around me. “Thank you,” I whispered up at him.

  “Sure I can’t convince you to come home with me right now?”

  I placed my hands on his chest. “I’m sure. Can we start with breakfast this weekend?” I suggested.