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I watch as Griffin’s jaw visibly tightens. His eyes search my face. Sometimes I think he can read my mind so I do my best to hold in my emotion. Pretend like I wasn’t about to throw myself at him and beg him to stay.
“We don’t have to discuss it now. I just thought it would be easier to do it while you’re still here. Face to face. And with the wedding this weekend, and you leaving on Monday…” my words trail off.
He sighs and looks down at the counter. I can’t see his eyes now. Those pools of green have become a source of comfort over the past few weeks. I need them now, but when he looks back up at me, there’s no comfort there. No emotion.
“No, you’re right. We should discuss it.”
My heart sinks again. Maybe I’d hoped that I was wrong. That he’d tell me he doesn’t want the annulment. That there’s so much to think about, but getting an annulment is the last thing on his mind.
“If you wouldn’t mind waiting a few months. Until afterThe Dressarticle comes out and my line launches at Bergman’s.”
“Sure.” He nods. “There’s no rush. I’ll have the paperwork drafted and you can sign it when you’re ready.”
And then because I’m already feeling miserable, I open my mouth and ask him the most inappropriate question.
“Will you start dating before it’s finalized?”
“What?” If I thought there was no warmth in his gaze before, now it’s cold as ice.
“I don’t expect you to wait until the annulment is finalized, but if you could keep it quiet, not post anything on social media until I have a chance to tell my family and friends.”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure to keep all my hookups off social media.”
“I just think it’s best to keep it quiet, let the dust settle.” I sound like a robot.
“Whatever you need me to do, Emma.” He brushes past me to grab a water bottle out of the refrigerator. “I’m going for a walk.”
“Okay,” I squeak out.
My throat tightens as I watch him leave the kitchen. I’m completely numb as I make my way to my room. When I know he’s left the apartment, I curl up in my bed and cry. Jess was right. Far more agonizing than Alec breaking up with me was watching the man I love walk away.
* * *
I’d hoped that Griffin and I would be on better terms when we headed to the Hamptons for Barrett and Chloe’s wedding Thursday afternoon, but after our conversation yesterday about the annulment, he’s been distant. I can’t blame him. That’s not how I wanted to have that conversation. I didn’t want to have that conversation at all, but clearly I was right to second guess everything because Griffin didn’t fight me on it at all.
When I came out of the bathroom last night, I found him already asleep on the floor. My stomach twisted at the sight of him there, wishing he was lying in my bed, ready to wrap his arms around me and kiss me goodnight. Now that I’m certain he’s leaving, I know it’s better that he doesn’t. For the sake of my sanity and my heart.
We take a car service to the Hamptons, so Griffin reads and I work on design revisions for a client. Last night, as I tossed and turned, I put a mental list together of how to get over your fake husband. Sitting in a car with him for two hours while he firmly presses the spine of a paperback open with his large thumb all while looking devastatingly handsome and smelling like a sexy forest was not on that list.
But I make it through the car ride, and the wine tasting that evening and on Friday when Chloe asks me to help her run a few last-minute errands, I jump at the chance so I can leave our quaint and excessively romantic room at The Topping Rose House, the charming Bridgehampton mansion where Chloe and Barrett’s wedding events are located.
We’re at the bakery finalizing the food order for the Sunday morning brunch when Chloe pulls me to one of the small tables by the window. She pushes the plate with a chocolate croissant on it toward me. I hesitate. Even while being in emotional turmoil over the last few days, I’ve managed to steer clear of pastries.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask, as I cave and start devouring the flaky pastry in front of me.
“Are you and Griffin good? You both seemed off last night at the winery.”
“Really?” I do my best to sound surprised. “Um, no, maybe just a little tired. It’s been a long week.”
“Emma,” Chloe scolds. She eyes me, then the empty croissant plate.
I sigh. “It’s your wedding tomorrow. I don’t want you to worry about anything.”
Chloe gives me that look of hers, it’s the one that tells me she’s not buying what I’m selling and she really wants to know.
“You saying that only makes me worry more.”
