“Really?” I mumbled into his chest, feeling like the college junior whose boyfriend used to brag about her high exam scores to his friends.
“Yes, really.” He held me away from him to kiss my forehead. “And it couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m gonna be announcing my senate run soon. I’ve already got some heavy hitters lined up with their checkbooks open.” I squeezed my eyes shut and pressedmyself back into his chest. My nostalgia faded and my euphoria slipped away like the air being let out of a balloon. I willed Teddy to stop talking.
“You can focus on finding us a house with lots of bedrooms. Mama said that there’s a house for sale in the same cul-de-sac as hers and Daddy’s. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Our kids could grow up with their Nana and Pop Pop just a few houses away.” My stomach lurched and I felt the crab cakes threatening to make a reappearance. I tightened my arms around Teddy’s waist—a gesture he misread because he chuckled and rubbed my back.
“That job was beneath you anyway. You’re too smart to be cleaning up the messes of movie stars and strippers.” I tensed up.
“So am I too smart to clean up the messes of politicians and affluent businessmen?” I picked my head up and glared at him. He immediately picked up the deeper meaning in my question: the night we never discuss. Perhaps I wouldn’t have brought it up if he hadn’t just insulted my job, or let’s face it, if I weren’t completely drunk at one in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Why did I let Max talk me into doing shots?
Jesus, please give me a time machine.
Let me go back five minutes into the past, when my handsome and thoughtful boyfriend was holding me in his arms and telling me that everything was going to be okay. Because in the present moment, we were standing on the threshold of an argument. We’d had so many in the past year that they were easy to see coming, like the way Granny Walters can always smell rain coming. This one was gearing up to be one for the ages, one we might not be able to come back from, but one that was inevitable.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Em?” Teddy dropped his embrace, glaring at me.
“You know exactly what it means. What I do for a living is never good enough until you need me for something.” I took a step back, stumbling slightly. His biceps flexed to reach for me. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to hold me again or steady me on my feet. Whichever it was, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want him to touch me. “I happened to like what I did, and I was proud of the things I was able to accomplish at Laramie. I liked having a job, a purpose, something that’s mine.” I pressed my palm into my chest.
“Emma, you will have a purpose. You will be my wife.”
“Do you hear yourself?” I let out a loud laugh. “My sole purpose in life is not to be somebody’s wife.”
“Notsomebody’s, Emma. Mine. This was always our dream. The senate, the governor’s mansion, the White House.” He ticked off every point on his fingers. “We were supposed to build this life together. Now you’re on some other shit. I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
“You don’t recognize me?” I screeched. “If anyone has changed, it’s you.”
“C’mon,” he scoffed angrily and tossed up his arms dismissively, turning his back on me. “I’ve always been the same. I’ve known who I am and what I’m supposed to be from the day I was born. You knew who I was when we met—hell, before we met. Who my father was and what was expected of me.”
“You used to put me first,” I said with a sob punctuated by a hiccup. He whipped around to face me.
“Emma, you are the most important person in my life. None of this works without you. How do you not see that?”
“Needing me in your life and wanting me in your life are not the same thing.”
“What?” he spluttered. “What are you even talking about, Emma? You’re drunk and you’re upset.”
Teddy was right on both accounts. I was very drunk and very upset, but that didn’t make what I was saying any less true, and I didn’t think I’d have the courage to say it if I were sober.
“You’re right, Teddy. None of this shit works without me because I have done everything you’ve ever asked me to do. I pick out your clothes. I schedule your haircuts. I write your speeches. I call in favors for you. I plan events. I write legal briefs for you. I proofread contracts—”
“Emma, stop.”
“—and you don’t even say thank you. I always put you first, Teddy. Your wants, your needs, your aspirations. And you couldn’t even go to a fucking will reading with me.”
“You’re still on this? I said I was sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t go with you to the will reading, but you’re not the only one who’s fucking busy, Emma. And I thought you did all that shit for me because you loved me. You take care of your man because you love him. Like my mother. Are you saying my mother’s life doesn’t have a purpose?”
“Don’t compare me to your mother.” I clumsily waved a finger at him and dropped my voice an octave. “I will never be like your mother.”
“Emma.” He said my name like a warning.
“Will you be like your father?”
“Emma,” he repeated in a strained whisper.
“Teddy. Do we even still love each other?”
“Jesus Christ. Of course, I still love you. Do you love me?”
“I don’t know.”
