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“So you’re telling me, just today you’ve figured out you’re still in love with her?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes,” he answered.
“That is such horseshit,” she returned. “Newsflash, Remy, I wasn’t just competing with your beloved daughter. You took every opportunity you could find to spend time with Wyn, so I was also competing with your ex-fucking-wife.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “That’s what I came to terms with and that’s what I just apologized for.”
“So you fucked me over but it’s me who has to live with it?”
“I was absolutely not as honest as I should have been about my feelings for Wyn, mostly because I didn’t understand them, until today. But it was not me who made moves behind your back to tie you to me when, without a doubt, Myrna, I would have figured out how I felt about my wife eventually. And as such, you still would have been out, and if you’d done what you wanted to do and we’d made a child, that child, who I would love and care for, but it would not negate the fact that I didn’t want it, would be sharing time between a mother and father who had wholly no emotional ties to each other whatsoever.”
Her voice was small, and he wanted to give a shit, but after what she’d done, he just didn’t, when she asked, “So you also didn’t love me?”
“Did I ever tell you I loved you?” he asked in return, being cold and remote not only because she’d killed anything he’d felt for her, but because the woman had to get this and then go. “When you asked if you could move in, what did I say?”
“Remy—”
“What did I say, Myrna?”
She shut her mouth.
So he reminded her of something he knew she didn’t need the reminder.
“I said I enjoyed spending time with you. But I warned you I’d ended a long relationship that would never really be over since we’d made a family. I also said, although I cared about you, I was concerned your feelings went deeper for me than mine did for you. I further warned you I wasn’t certain I’d grow to reciprocate that.”
“But you let me move in anyway.”
“Your lease was up, and they were raising your rent without increasing services. You weren’t down with that, decided at your age it was time for you to live somewhere nicer, and asked if you could move in for a couple of months in order to cover it. That turned into a year because I wasn’t paying attention.”
“So this was just a trial phase and I failed, now you’re done with me?”
“I never lied to you, and I never led you on. Most importantly, and I can’t believe I need to keep driving this point home, I didn’t make moves to change the course of your life by making you pregnant when that was something you did not want.”
She was a dog with a bone and proved it by stating, “But you knew what I’d think if I moved in.”
“I’m not in your head, Myrna.”
“You knew I was in love with you.”
“So this is on me?” he asked.
“You knew I was in love with you!” she nearly shouted.
“You took a chance, and it didn’t pan out,” he returned.
“So you could have an easy fuck waiting for you in bed every night, you let me move in with you knowing you’d eventually go back to your wife and break my heart.”
This was the second time that day when someone gravely mistook the man he was.
The first, he couldn’t abide.
This one wasn’t as important. But it was the same.
He couldn’t abide it.
Because it was bullshit.
“You need to find someplace else to stay tonight and come get your things tomorrow,” he told her.
Her eyes got big. “Are you serious?”
“You’ve had weeks to figure this out, Myrna.”
“So now you’re done with me, you chuck me out like garbage?”
No.
Now, she’d forgotten that he told her two weeks ago they were irrevocably over, and if she wanted a family, that was what she needed as much as he did. And he’d asked her how long it would take her to find a place, get her shit from storage, and sort herself out, and she’d asked in return that he give her two weeks.
He’d slept on his own fucking couch for those two weeks.
And she was still playing games.
“You know, I didn’t treat you like an easy fuck, Myrna,” he stated. “You just were one.”
She gasped in outrage.
“And if you can’t own that, when there’s absolutely not one fucking thing wrong with it, it isn’t on me,” he finished. “You came into my home with designs. You knew where I was, but you wanted more, and you thought you could make that so. You couldn’t. And now you’re throwing a tantrum because you haven’t gotten what you wanted. But it’s not going to change anything, except precipitating it being finished. Now you need to leave and text me tomorrow with when to meet you here so you can come and get your things.”
