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He shakes his head slowly, blankly. ‘Nothing.’
‘You’re as white as a sheet.’
He looks at me strangely. ‘Am I?’
‘Yes.’
‘I thought that car was going to hit you.’
I laugh. It’s not really a proper laugh. I’m disturbed by the sudden change in him. His expression and demeanor are so bizarre and out of character. We were laughing two minutes ago. ‘Well, it didn’t,’ I say.
‘I know. I saw that,’ he says robotically.
‘Dom, it wasn’t even a near miss. I had plenty of time.’
‘I know,’ he says again.
I take his hand, and I’m shocked to find it trembling.
‘What’s the matter, Dom?’ I ask urgently.
‘Nothing. Let’s go to dinner.’
I give him the parking receipt and he displays it on the dashboard and locks the car. Then we walk to the restaurant and sit opposite each other. I look at him and he looks away.
‘Dom, what the hell is going on?’
He turns to me. ‘Leave it alone. Please.’
Because I can see that he is so extremely affected, I drop it quietly.
The waitress comes and he orders a triple whiskey. My eyebrows rise involuntarily, but I say nothing. When the drinks come, he downs his in one go and calls for another.
We order our food. It comes and we eat. All the while, we talk in a wooden manner. He tells me Lily is pregnant. She just found out today. Shane has started dating a magician called Tanya. Jake is sending their mother on holiday to Spain. And I tell him my mother has invited us to dinner on Saturday. He nods. He smiles. But his face is a mask.
Dessert menus are flourished. He wants nothing. So I follow his lead. He refuses coffee. And then I know he doesn’t want to spend any more time with me.
He’s pushing me away.
And it hurts like mad. Why? What have I done? How can he just shut me out for no reason like this? I start to feel angry, but I’m unable to express my anger. Some part of me knows that whatever it is, it’s serious. It’s eating him up. The bill gets paid.
‘Come, I’ll take you home,’ he says, getting to his feet.
I nod and pick up my purse. Yes, he definitely wants to get rid of me. We walk to the car in silence. We drive in silence. Outside my apartment, I turn toward him.
‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ I say quietly.
‘Yeah, OK.’
He bends and kisses me lightly on the cheek. ‘Goodnight.’
He’s dismissing me as if I’m some woman he doesn’t give a shit about. I feel utterly abandoned. I peer into his closed face. ‘Have I done something wrong, Dom?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, it’s not you.’ And then he grips the steering wheel. ‘It’s not you,’ he says again. As if in those three words lies the solution to what is eating him.
‘Goodnight,’ I say.
‘Goodnight, Ella,’ he say
