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“Are you going to stay in Boston when you get back, or will you come to the Cape?”
He didn’t answer right away.Where is home now?“Um, I don’t know. I guess I’ll decide when I land at Logan.”
“Okay. And how are you?”
“You already asked me that.”
“And you rattled off your itinerary.”
“I told you I’m fine, and I am.”
“You’re not. Whatever happened between you and Elizabeth… I wish you would talk to me about it.”
“I told you everything I can. We’ll talk more when I get back, okay?”
“No, it’snotokay. You’re not being fair to her. You just–you turned your back on her.”
The silence was deafening. Will took several deep breaths, and when he finally spoke his voice was low.
“I did what I had to do. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think this isn’t killing me?” He swallowed thickly. “This is tearing me apart, Georgie. Do you–do you think I would just walk away from her for no reason?”
“No, I don’t think that,” she responded softly. “But until you can explain it to me, until you confide in me, I won’t understand. But for now, I’ll back off.”
“Thank you.” He paused. “Just–just do me a favor, okay? If you talk to her…I don't want to know how she is, or–or what she's doing. I don't want you to talk about her. At all.”
“Okay.”
He sighed heavily. “I need to get going. Um, I'm really happy about the job, Georgie. It's great news. I'll let Richard know.”
“Thanks. And you know you can call me anytime, right? If you want to talk?”
“I know.”
“Okay. Bye, Will. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hung up and stared down at the glass of juice in his hand. Without thinking, he turned and hurled it against the wall and it exploded, breaking into dozens of small pieces that littered the floor as orange streaks ran down the wall.
Richard came out of his bedroom, wet from the shower and holding a towel around his waist. “What the hell was that?”
“I broke a glass.”
Richard glanced toward the wall and then shook his head. “Whatever this is, whatever’s going on, smashing shit won't help. You’ll just end up feeling worse. Find another way to vent.”
“I don't need your advice.”
Richard's eyebrows rose. “Okay, fine. You're on your own.” He turned and walked back into his room, closing the door firmly behind him.
Will wandered over to the couch and sat in silence for a few moments. He felt foolish, like a toddler who’d thrown a temper tantrum.
He called the hotel desk and asked for a vacuum, explaining he’d broken a glass and wanted to clean up. While he waited for housekeeping, he retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom, soaked it in warm water, and began to wipe the juice from the wall. Not five minutes later there was a knock at the door, and though the housekeeper offered to clean, Will refused.
“It's very nice of you, but I don't want you to cut yourself. I'll just leave the vacuum outside the door when I'm done.”
The employee nodded politely and left him to it, and while he mindlessly pushed the vacuum around, he thought it ironic that the glass was gone, utterly destroyed; there was nothing left but a bunch of jagged, broken bits, unable to be put back together again.
Shattered. Just like my heart.
