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“So, how are you enjoying retirement?” Andrew asked.
“Oh, we love it. We’d like to travel a little bit more than we do now, but we’re planning a trip to North Carolina this summer. We’re excited.” My dad gave my mom a warm glance. The love in his eyes was so clear, even after all these years. I saw Andrew look away quickly.
“That’s great,” Andrew responded quietly.
I ground my teeth. I didn’t care for his patronizing tone. His father took a private jet on every trip for fuck’s sake. I tried not to glare, but instead took a hearty gulp of the wine my father had poured.
“This food is really good. You’re quite the accomplished cook, Mr. Clarke.”
“Thanks. I’m really getting a chance to practice with all the free time on my hands. Is your father thinking of retiring soon?” He meant the question well, but Andrew’s whole body stilled.
“No,” he said shortly. “He loves working.”
“He must be really successful then,” my mother added. “If you love what you do, that’s the main driver of success. I’ve always told my kids that.”
I wanted to laugh, or cry. My parents were so provincial. Not for the first time, I looked around our house and saw pale comparisons to Andrew’s life around every corner. I hated that he was here, witnessing the shame, seeing the past I’d tried so hard to hide. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped for dinner to end.
* * *
We’d been allowedto share a room, luckily. My dad’s Irish Catholic family would never have agreed, but my mom seemed to think letting us sleep together would get her grandchildren faster.
Andrew was brittle, quiet, in a way I hadn’t seen before, at least not since we’d make the pact to be friends. My heart sank. I’d known it would be like this. In New York, we were more like equals. I could go toe to toe with him and know we made the same amount of money to the dollar, that we had the same credentials. Here, the differences between us could not have been starker. My upbringing had been so sheltered compared to his, with his sports cars and his prep school. I wasn’t embarrassed of my parents exactly, but I was a realist. I thought back to his words about wanting someone who challenged him and cringed. He would always be so muchmorethan I would be, and I didn’t think I would ever be enough.
We prepared for bed in silence, avoiding each other, our discomfort lingering in the air.
“That was painful,” I muttered, seeking anything to break the tension.
“It didn’t have to be.” He speared a hand through his hair, meeting my eyes for the first time tonight. “You hung me out to dry. Friends don’t do that.” He spat the wordfriendslike it was bitter on his tongue.
“What are you talking about? You were judging my parents the entire time!” I hissed.
“Judging them?” His fake confusion made me grind my teeth.
“All those questions about travel, conversations dancing around money. They can’t keep up with that. They don’t even know where Litchfield County is. I can’t believe you just sat there and let them dig themselves into a hole. And the way you said “money manager” like it’s some quaint thing.” I shook my head. “Don’t toy with them, Andrew.”
His eyes were hard when I finished speaking. “You know what I think?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.” I crossed my arms protectively over my midsection.
“I think you’re ashamed of them. Not once have I ever indicated I was judging you or your family. You’ve done that all on your own.” He raised a brow triumphantly and I saw red.
“That’s not true!” How dare he make that assumption? He had judged me for years. But I had promised to leave the past in the past and I bit my tongue.
“It absolutely is. You don’t trust me enough not to assume the worst.” He spread his hands helplessly. “I think I should sleep in the other room.”
My stomach twisted. “Ok.” I heard his sharp inhale at my words. “Here, I’ll get you settled.” I busied myself getting him extra blankets and setting up Emily’s old room for him. He looked like he wanted to say more, moved to give me a kiss and then let his hand drop awkwardly and shoved his hands into his pockets. I wanted to shake him. I wanted to rattle his calm demeanor. But instead, I shut the door silently behind him and took deep breaths around the pain knifing through me, ignoring the way my throat clogged and my breaths made me sound like I was dying.
I sank onto my childhood bed with my head in my hands and tears leaking out around the edges. It was already starting.Better now than later. We had to end sometime, and now, at least, it would be less painful. I wouldn’t have to demand that he love my family and their hearts wouldn’t break he eventually walked away.
Why did he have to be so perfect? I thought back to the day I had wished for him to be rabid and horrible to me.It certainly would have been easier. Instead, I had his pity and it was the one thing I couldn’t bear.
35
Andrew
Ilay on the firm bed and listened to the wind rustle the trees, signaling an impending storm. It was so quiet that if I concentrated I could hear Margo moving around the room. We were sharing a wall instead of sharing a room and it still felt too intimate.
I splayed an arm over my eyes at the sound of her unzipping her pants. I did not need to picture her naked, especially since early this morning was probably the last time we would be together. She was pulling away. I had tried. I had tried so fucking hard to make amends and not to fall for her and I had gone and done it all over again.
