Intercepted (Page 59)

Gavin looks so happy and proud of himself across from me, I almost feel guilty for the rage rushing through my veins. I mean, he called my landlord? I would trade in all of my wine for the opportunity to see what is going on inside that brain of his. And also, in what world is it okay for my landlord to talk to someone not on my lease about my living situation? There are so many things wrong here, I don’t even know where to begin.

“What are you talking about, Gavin?” The words come out so syrupy sweet, I don’t even know who I am.

“We can stay in the Oyster Bay house for the summer, but I’m thinking we should find a place in Hoboken for the season so we don’t have to deal with tunnel traffic.” He puts his hands up in surrender, white teeth still on display. “Don’t worry, I haven’t even glanced at places. I want you to be there to pick the house out with me.”

“Oh my god. Gavin.” I cut him off before he can talk any further. “Let’s go back to my place to finish this conversation.”

I’ve been in the paper enough in the past few months to know I don’t want to be again. And if I say what I want to right now, I have a feeling I’ll be on YouTube and maybe ESPN as well.

No thank you.

“That’s a good idea. We can hammer out the rest of the details and then go grab some boxes. Brynn said she could come over later to help too.”

“Wow.” I smile at him but I know it doesn’t reach my eyes. “You just thought of everything. Called all my friends, my family, just not me. Nice.”

My back is so straight, it feels like somebody shoved a metal rod up my spine, and despite the coffee I drank and my thick, fuzzy sweater I put on, I’m shivering.

Or maybe I’m shaking indoors. I can’t really differentiate between the two at the moment.

“I figured if I could tie up loose ends, it would help. I know how stressed you get, but you’re gonna love living on the East Coast. Promise.” He looks so young and innocent without his beard, so sweet and earnest, I almost say thank you.

But then I remember what he’s done. How he’s crossed about every single line I’ve drawn. How disrespectful he is for going behind my back.

How manipulative.

So I don’t thank him. Instead, gathering what’s left of my little patience, I slowly stand, throw my cup away, and make my way to the front door. I don’t look behind me or ask if Gavin’s coming along. I know he is.

“Thanks, Yaya!” I call to my favorite barista before I hit the street.

“Welcome, Marlee. See you tomorrow?”

“You know it,” I say at the same time Gavin’s loud, powerful voice rings out behind me declaring, “Nope. She’ll be in New York tomorrow.”

Oh yeah.

We have a lot to discuss, and I have a very bad feeling it won’t end well at all.

Forty-one

Since losing Honey-Blossom, I’ve really grown to appreciate the quiet walks to and from work. But not right now.

Walking to my apartment with Gavin is anything but comfortable. It may be March, but spring is still nowhere to be seen. Neither of us makes an effort to break the silence between us, only the sounds of cars as they pass keep me grounded to reality.

We walk up the stairs, Gavin trailing close behind me, and I unlock my apartment door like I’ve done with him so many times before. I have been in a Gavin-induced slump that resulted in lots of takeout and minimal cleaning. Thankfully, after we decided on coffee, I straightened up my place just in case he decided to come over. And by cleaning, I mean I shoved everything in the closet.

“It smells good in here. Did you get some new candles?”

“Yeah, I picked up a few the other day.” Last night. I figured they were my best chance at disguising the lingering scent of heartbreak and betrayal.

“You’ll definitely have to bring those with us.”

Ughhhhh. I guess we’re doing this now. I was hoping for a little mindless chatter, maybe even some more awkward silence. Anything but this.

“You keep saying this stuff like we’ve made the decision to leave, but we haven’t. I haven’t even talked to you in a week. Why are you all of a sudden acting like nothing happened?” Despite the giant knots in my stomach and the pounding in my head, my voice is calm and even.

“Because this is stupid, Marlee. I love you, you love me. I get I should’ve told you about New York, but I thought you’d be happy to start our life together. I wanted to surprise you. Can we stop being stubborn now and move on?”

Oh sweet baby Jesus. I’m not sure if I’m more pissed he’s brushing off my feelings about this or if I’m more stunned that he could really be this oblivious.

“I’m not being stubborn, Gavin. And I’m for damn sure and not just acting mad for the sake of being mad. Do you hear yourself?”

“Then why are you mad? Please, enlighten me, because I don’t get it. There are more opportunities than you can imagine in New York. Marketing jobs? Everywhere. My family you said you loved will be right down the street. And me, your boyfriend, got the contract of the century! How is there anything wrong with any of that? You’re being kind of irrational right now.”

Oh no the fuck he did not.

It’s not what he’s saying that causes me to snap, it’s the way he’s saying it. Like I couldn’t possibly have any merit behind my argument, like I’m overreacting. Like I’m crazy.

“I don’t want to leave my job! I don’t want to leave my family! Did you ever think of that? Did you ever think, ‘Hey, Gavin, maybe Marlee has a life outside of you and you should ask her opinion before expecting her to jump like a freaking dog’? Did you? Even once think my opinion mattered at all?” I take a deep breath and close my eyes. “I can’t believe you have such little respect for me. That you think so little of what I do that you’d just expect me to walk away from it all without a blink of an eye. What did you think was going to happen? I’d move, get pregnant, and give up my career like your sister and mom to raise babies? That’s not what I want!”

I sit down on my couch, cradling my forehead in my hands and dragging them through my hair. I focus on the pattern of my rug, willing myself to hold it together for just a little bit longer. I’m worried if I look at him I’ll either break down or give in and neither of those are acceptable.

“It’s great that you have the career you want and the contract everyone around you envies. But could you just step outside of your self-absorbed bubble for one second and think about me? Think that I’ve spent my entire adult life being dragged around by Chris, pushed into the shadows, my dreams put on hold because he had the ‘real’ career?” I stand on shaky legs and cross the room to where he’s standing. I wrap my arms around his waist, praying he will feel how desperate I am for him to understand. My throat starts to clog up and the sting behind my eyes kicks in. Oh no, Marlee. You hold your shit together. You will not start to cry right now. “Do you understand how worthless you’ve made me feel this past week? Today?”

He closes his arms around me and kisses the top of my head.

“That’s not what I meant to do. You know how much I care about you. How much I respect how hard you work,” he whispers above me.

“How do I know that?” The volume falls from my voice. I pull back just enough to look him in the eyes, to let him see my eyes glossed over with tears. “You went behind my back to talk to my employer, to my family. You told them I’d be leaving without so much as a text message to me to see if I wanted to.”