What is air? I haven’t met it in a minute or two because how could one breathe under these circumstances? “You’re right, babe,” I concede. “Come here. I want to make sure you hear me.”
Rob’s shoulders slacken, feeling victory at hand. He leans his elbows on the window frame, his eyes soft when I grab him by the crisply starched shirt collar. I take my gum out of my mouth like I’m going to kiss him, but instead bring his face right in front of my own.
“Fuck your ideas about what I want and what I need. Fuck what you think you know about me. Fuck you for ever interfering with my life like this. Fuck you for betraying me. Fuck your country club membership and your stupid boat, and while we’re at it, fuck your family too.” I pull his face a little closer. “And most of all, Rob, fuck you down to the soles of your stupid knockoff Gucci shoes.”
I shove him back so I don’t actually injure him with the car—I do value my freedom—toss my gum on his shoe, and peel out with my middle finger out the window. I’m heartened by the cheers from my puck-pushing allies who stand by in a larger group now.
But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m shattered. The person I loved and trusted with my future sabotaged me, and now I have to throw everything away if I want to escape from him. I can’t work at the same office knowing what he did. Plus, it’s not like I’ll get the promotion I’ve been after.
My job for the last four years is gone. The friends I’ve made, up in smoke. I don’t want to face the apartment we share, but I can’t take my cat with me if I don’t go back there.
When Rob disappears in the rear-view mirror and I turn out of the arena’s parking lot for the last time, I let myself cry.
* * *
Everyone should havea body-in-the-trunk person in their life, that person who would, in theory, come help you bury a body without asking questions. My aunt Maggie is that person for me.
We’re not related by blood, but she’s always treated me as an equal, even when I was just a kid. She married my dad’s brother, Bill, when I was in kindergarten, both of their second marriages. I worshiped the ground she walked on as I grew up, watching her fit right into Bill’s life at our family farm. Over time, it almost became more her farm than any of ours. She exudes a certain calm that my own mother lacks, and therefore, she’s my body-in-the-trunk person.
Since I didn’t actually hit Rob with my car, I don’t have a body in the trunk, but the situation feels almost as dire.
I sit in the middle of what wasourbedroom, whatever boxes we hadn’t taken out for recycling taped back together as I gather up my things. We were supposed to work late tonight with the playoff game going on, and I’m sure Rob’s not going to skip the game.
Hell, I’m sad I’m missing it. I’ve been with the team longer than Rob, seen them through garbage seasons and management turnovers, and now they’re playing for the Eastern Conference championship. But it’s not like the team’s management is on my side, having passed me over for an outside hire at my ex-fiancé’s suggestion.
I have to get out of here.
I pick up my phone, growl at the picture of Rob and me on the background, and dial Maggie. She offers the solution I want most in my heart but feel the least entitled to. Her voice is warm and I’m struck by how weird it feels that she’s so far away at this terrible moment in my life. I explain what I did, whathedid, and she doesn’t hesitate to give me a solution.
“Just come on home, sweetie. You always have a home with us.”
“I lost my shit and quit, Maggie. I don’t have a job. What am I going to do?”
There’s a soft snort through the line, and a “hey Bill?”
“Sweetie, can I call you right back? I’ll only be ‘bout ten minutes.”
We hang up and I draw a shuddering breath, letting my lower lip wobble bloom into a pathetic sob.
Stormy meows in the corner, playfully jumping into one of the boxes that sits open and empty. She nestles in with just her green eyes and black fur poking out.
“We’re going to have an adventure, Stormy,” I say, and she leaps into my lap, curling her back so I’ll give her a head-to-tail pet. “Are you gonna miss him?”
I know in my heart that my cat will absolutely not miss Rob. If anything, she tolerates him. I’ve had her since before Rob came on the scene, and she’ll survive long after he’s a distant memory, good lord willing.
My hands pass over picture frames: Rob and I on vacation, us on a business trip when we got to fly along with the team, us on a special night out. Rob and I the night he proposed in front of his family, but not mine.
Why didn’t I see it then? Why did it take him fully controlling my future for me to wake up?
In our closet, I take down the shoebox that holds my modest collection of vibrators, all different attempts to make myself feel better than Rob ever could. Not for lack of trying. He tried.Wetried. I might just have one of those bodies that can’t.
I stare at the corner of the rug I burned when we tried pouring wax on each other one Valentine’s Day with a soft smile. For all his highfalutin pedigree, he really does have a fun side. Will I miss that? Am I making a mistake?
I go into our guest bedroom to make sure there’s nothing I need to take and freeze. A puffy white garment bag is the only item hanging in the open closet.
My wedding gown.
I’m walking away from my own wedding, only four months away.
