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“I heard what you said, Rose. I can even understand your reluctance to move to Paris.”
“What I want, Gregory, is for you to stop thinking of how you will placate me when I’m talking to you.” He keeps himself from rolling his eyes. “You don’t listen to half of what I say because you are thinking of what you will say next to get me to see things your way.”
“I admit, I might have skipped a step or two, but that’s just because I was excited about our new adventure,” he defends.
“How long have you known about the possibility of being transferred to Paris?” On Friday I was too dazed to ask. Greg knows I won’t like the answer, so he says nothing. “I mean if you had enough time to contact our landlord, job hunt for me, find us an apartment in Paris–”
“I didn’t do that, the company has expat apartm–”
“How long, Greg?” My voice reaches a higher volume.
“Since Thanksgiving.”
“Right.” I wish I only felt anger, but goddammit, hurt sneaks its way in too.
“I am sorry.” I look up to discover the face of the man who bought three large pieces of art when he only had one wall, so he’d have an excuse to see me again. The man who had a name plate made with my name on when I got promoted and finally got a door. “I was working under the assumption that ‘my’ way was ‘our way’.”
“You can’t decide my life for me, Greg.”
“People like us, darling, we have a path we follow. A certain order in which we do things. The opportunity of a lifetime presented itself. You’d have to be an idiot to pass up a VP position heading the new division for Western Europe!” This is as close to yelling as I’ve ever seen Greg get. He keeps his teeth clenched throughout though.
“And I would be a bigger idiot if I blindly agreed to something you hid from me for months!” I shout. I don’t give a fuck. I’m pissed.
“Do not take that tone with me, Rose,” Greg admonishes, looking around the empty room, offering a silent apology to the furniture for my outburst. “What has gotten into you?” Shit, if he only knew.
“I know what happens to a person when they agree to a life they didn’t actually want!” They leave! They pack their shit, abandon their kid and husband and fucking leave.
“What are you talking about?”
“Exactly! You don’t even know what I’m talking about!”
“Lower your voice,” he repeats. This time, his raises as well. “There is no point in having this conversation anymore, Rose. You wanted out of Paris, I got us out. I turned down the job. We can stay and revisit later.” He looks so pleased with himself.
“What are you doing here, Greg?” I cut straight to the chase. I am tired of this carousel conversation. I want off.
“What do you mean what am I doing here? I solved our problem. We don’t have to go to Paris.” He abandons his comfortable spot on the couch, coming to stand, then kneel before me. “And I came to give you this again, darling. Put it on and keep it on this time.” He grabs my left hand.
“You’re marrying fuckface?” Greg gives me a triumphant look. He knew James was standing there before he made his move.
“Oh God, James!” I turn around so fast I knock the engagement ring out of Greg’s hand.
The look on his face is a hammer digging a chisel into my heart. It’s not anger, it’s pain and betrayal. I watch as it contorts, emotions piling on his features, layer upon layer of deception. I’m paralyzed in horror. His strong, confident image crumbles – after this afternoon he has no armor, no mask to wear. “You two fucking deserve each other. I wish you a lifetime of boredom and mediocrity together.”
Before I can move my feet to stop him, James Archer shuts the door in my face. This time I’m sure it’s firmly locked.
Chapter Nine
James
Muscle memory is doing the driving, my brain can’t engage, my heart stayed behind in that fucking house that will never be home to me again.
I’m blinded by rage, sustained by adrenaline and pain. I want to lie to myself, to pretend this weekend meant nothing, that I was just fulfilling some fucked up teenage wet dream. That Rose’s tempting tail just happened to be there, so I chased it. But I can’t. I can’t fucking do that.
Some things you can’t unsee, this I can’t unfeel.
It’s like a fucking demonic genie that just won’t fit back in his bottle. Whole new world my ass. I wanted her so badly I couldn’t see the forest for the fucking trees, and now I’m left falling down a bottomless pit.
I grip the wheel with excessive strength, wondering where the hell I went wrong in my life to deserve this. I saw its ugly tip seven years ago with Claudia, but fuck does the iceberg run deep with Rose.
