"Some investments go bad, Jay.You said it yourself.You didn't intend for it to turn out like this.And maybe it won't.Maybe you'll talk things out and you'll be better than ever."
"You really think so?"Jay asked.
"No," Rob answered after a long pause.
"I don't want to hurt her, Rob."
"I know you don't.The fact that you stayed after what happened last New Year’s Eve with her and Doctor Brett proves how hard you've tried."
"It was one kiss.And he kissed her, not the other way around.”Jay felt his chest tighten as he defended his wife to his best friend.“She's a good person.”
"I agree.Hope is a good person.Just not therightperson.Not for you."
Jay made the final once-through, turning off lights and checking the door.The lights on the tiny tree continued to glow and he made a last-second decision to let them shine the remainder of the night.He made a detour into the study to power down his laptop for the night.He stood at the door and silently took inventory of their shared workspace.If one room in their home illustrated the vast differences between them, this was it.It looked as though they had drawn an imaginary line down the center of the space and created two separate worlds.It took them six months to agree on a paint color.He argued for something warm and inviting; she insisted on something more utilitarian and subtle.She won out in the end, and he worked surrounded by a depressing shade ironically known as Uncontested Gray.
Though he conceded the walls, he stood firm in his decision to select his own furnishings.At first, they treated it like a game, each trying to outdo the other with their purchases.She knew his strong leanings toward everything traditional and deliberately made her side of the room the opposite.By the time they finished, the room split exactly fifty-fifty—one side a post-modern, minimalist spaceport, the other a cozy English pub.Like the suit in the window, as Rob pointed out, their lives didn't fit.
Rob’s words reverberated in his head.They were honest.Straightforward.And nothing Jay hadn't already considered.But had he really tried?Had he done everything in his power to make their marriage everything he wanted it to be?He'd spent the past year trying everything he could think of to win her back, but they'd drifted apart to an unimaginable degree.When he'd taken an extended leave to test the cosmetic waters in the UK, he thought that they just needed time apart.Maybe time away would make her heart grow fonder.But he returned to find that Hope hardly noticed his absence.
He sat down in his oversized leather chair and examined his desk.Unlike hers, his desk held with bits and pieces of his professional life.Her desk, conversely, sat devoid of anything other than a few well-placed accessories.He spun around in his chair, accidentally catching the belt of his robe on the casters.As he struggled to free himself, the landline rang.He checked the caller ID and saw the hospital.He debated whether to answer.Would it be worth it?Would they offer apologies, or would the call end as it had so many times before—more sarcasm, sharp retorts, and a laundry list of blame?While he weighed his options, the phone continued to ring, and he picked up just before it rolled over to voicemail.
"I'm here," he said, quickly bringing the receiver to his ear.
"I thought maybe you'd gone out.You didn’t answer your cell when I called a minute ago."
"I’m in the study.My phone’s in the other room.And it’s Christmas Eve?Just where the hell would I go?”
"Good point."
“Why aren’t you calling on your cell phone?”
“It died.I’m charging it right now.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them—one that Jay instantly recognized.Hope’s standard operating procedure.She'd make the first move by simply dialing the phone.They'd have some polite, mundane exchange.But then, nothing.Nothing but silence as she waited for him to initiate the difficult conversation.
"Was there a reason you called?"he asked, his tone sharp.
"I'm sorry we left things as we did."she said.
"How did we leave things?"
"Like we always do."
"Maybe we should do something about it, Hope," he suggested.
"I don't know what to do anymore," she said wearily.
"About us, you mean?"
"I don't think you understand the intense pressure I'm under right now," she snapped.
"Right now?”he shot back.“Wasn’t that your excuse last year?With Doctor McDreamy?And your excuse every day since?"
"You can't let it go, can you?You swore to me that we'd put it behind us, yet you never miss an opportunity to throw it back in my face, do you?"
"No, I don't, because I keep losing out to the same thing every goddamn day.It’s me versus the hospital, and I’m sick of it.I’m not asking for the moon here.One night.I just wanted one night with you."
He rested his elbows on his desk, quietly studying a photo of them that sat in a dusty frame.
