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“Bumble Dean,” she spits back at me.
“I do not even want to know.” I roll my eyes and pace.
“Good call. You really don’t want to know. So, we lie to each other now. You still haven’t answered me. Why did you ignore me? Why not just text back ‘can’t talk’? Why ignore?”
I explode in a voice I don’t recognize. “Because I felt fucking shitty being out and having fun. All my time is devoted to us. You’re heading out traveling, and I’m supposed to hold our time sacred. I felt guilty spending it away from you but needed to remember who I am without you. If I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have to lie again.”
She gasps. “Again.”
“Yeah, well, you watched and said nothing. That tequila stunt is not who I thought you were. That was ridiculous and cold.” And now I’ve blown our decorum. She shifts, and her eyes ice over. This ends now. Whatever bullshit is floating on top of our relationship. We peel it back now. I can’t go on being guilted into spending time together. Not ever again.
She spits out, “What did you tell them?”
“Who?”
“The Bros. What did you tell them about me? Don’t fucking hold back now.”
I open my arms wide as we both blow it all up. “Fine. Let’s do this. Stalker. I told them we hooked up. You won’t let my jock go. I have to protect my work and the brand. I can’t look like I have some insane girlfriend. I’m trying to expand my business by putting two weekly shows from our roster on HBO. You were a liability at that moment.”
She cries. I say, “Fuck you. Come on. You told me not to hold back.”
She sits up straighter, and even while sitting, she’s formidable. “No! YOU DO NOT GET TO TELL ME TO COME ON! You didn’t have the balls to say, ‘shit, I’ve got to go chat with my girlfriend.’ Christ, am I bad for the fucking brand? I’m not a part of your life, and you’re not a part of mine. It’s like we have us, and then we have these separate lives. And they never mix.”
Her little wheels are spinning. I see it, and the wordsmith is going to bury me in some pithy argument. She’s been holding on to this. I can see it. She pulls her red t-shirt down, and a small piece of her blue bra pops out of the V-neck. Not the aqua one, but the navy one from election night. Normally I’d pull her shirt down more to get a closer look, but it pisses me off.
“Pull your shirt up.” She does but seems horrified. I don’t need the distraction. I say, “Now, what the shit are you talking about? We have separate lives. I have work, and you. I don’t have any separate life.”
“Look, when we were together—”
This is not happening. My entire body goes emotionless. Like I’m trying to catch sand between my fingers. I interrupt her, “Were together. Like we’re not anymore?”
She yells, “I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE.”
62
Tess
Alex falls back onto the couch. I want to be past this part already. I stand up. I don’t actually want to unmask all of this. I try to walk away, and he yells at me.
“Stop running away from me.”
“Can’t.” My back is to him, but I do what he asks.
“Stop right there. We talk right now. We promised if things shifted, we’d talk about it. We didn’t, and now we have to. I only have half the information. Use your pretty words right now, Tess. What are you not saying?”
I lift my chin and say the thing that will finish ripping us in two, putting us on a path of no return. I’ve been pretending everything’s the same. I’ve been lying too.
“Alone in the hospital room, I realized work wasn’t enough. I know that sounds trite and a Hallmark movie epiphany, but it’s only now I see it all clearly. I kept trying to get back on track, but that thought has consumed me. That was the moment our paths went in different directions. I didn’t see it clearly until the last couple of days.”
He says quietly, “That was three and a half months ago. You didn’t feel the need to share?”
“That was the beginning. I didn’t have language for it until now. It grew from that seed.”
“Bullshit. You have language for everything.” He walks over to me. Like he’s trying to intimidate me.
I roll my eyes. “Look. This is fucking hard. I have to tell you this, so stop judging how I do it. I’m terrified to tell you, so cut me some slack. I’m about to ruin us. Me. This will all fall into history rolling off my shoulders.”
He softens. “I’ll always listen. Never be afraid to tell me something.”
