“Well, you don’t look so good. And I’m going to assume that you didn’t mean to email me our inventory list and ask if I’d like to consider expanding on my order this quarter.”
Shit. “Sorry. I’ll fix it.”
“Not what I’m worried about, Audrey.” The intensity of his focus made my head throb. “I think you should go home.”
This cut through my rampant efforts to redirect the email. “What?”
“You don’t need to tell me what’s going on, but I think it’s obvious that whatever it is is a distraction for you right now, and I think it’s a good idea if you go home and deal with it before you do something we can’t fix. You can come back fresh in the morning, and we’ll talk about it then.”
“But David—”
“No, I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to take no for an answer today.”
After he unceremoniously pushed me out the door, I made my way to Tiff’s apartment, my thoughts a jumbled mess. I knew I should talk to Jackson, but I was delaying the inevitable.
Thankfully, she was home.
“Fuck, Auds. What happened?” she said as soon as she saw me.
Clearly, I looked as bad as I felt.
“I’m going to assume this has something to do with Jackson?” she added when I still hadn’t said anything.
And if Tiff was using his real name, she knew how serious this was.
I nodded silently, then stumbled my way through all of it: the podcast, Jackson’s dismissal, the fans, David sending me home. By now, she’d corralled me to the couch, listening patiently as I let the words tumble out, pulling me into a tight hug once I’d finished.
“You know me, Tiff. I don’t come in late or skip work or make stupid little mistakes like I did today. Ever since I met Jackson, I’ve been different.” There was so much going on in my mind, like two debate teams speaking over one another. It made it hard to get the right words out. “I mean, he’s amazing, and I really, really care about him,” I do. So much. “But this has all gone so fast, and I feel like it’s taking over everything.”
“You’re just feeling overwhelmed right now. It’ll be fine. Once the launch is over, and you can breathe a little, it won’t look so bad.”
“I think I need to break up with him.”
Tiff was incredulous. “You’re serious.”
I groaned, a bubble of condensed frustration making its way to the surface. “I can’t see how we make this work right now, and I’m not going to give up everything I’ve worked for.”
Tiff answered, slow and calm, “Audrey, that’s the stress talking. You need to talk to Jackson about this, tell him how you’re feeling. Work through it. Isn’t that what relationships are all about?”
And she was right. I knew she was right. But it hardly helped. The crux of the damn thing was that I loved Jackson, but I missed what my life was like before I met him. Ok, not all of it, obviously, but the sense of self I’d found. To be my own person, on my own terms.
But when I thought about not having him in my life; his humor, his sweetness, his steady reassurance, and support … It felt like cutting out my own heart.
I was monumentally fucked.
“Oh, Auds,” Tiff said, and she sounded as despairing as I felt. “Promise me you’ll at least try.”
I waiteduntil I was on the El before I told Jackson I was on my way.
The trip didn’t give me enough time to collect my thoughts. I still felt as lost as I had at Tiff’s, but I was at least calmer than before. I had no idea what to expect when I talked to Jackson, but I felt each brick being laid down around my heart with every approaching stop.
The first thing I wanted to cover was the podcast and the “no one” comment.
Either Jackson lied. Or worse, he hadn’t.
The best way to approach it was probably quick. Like a band-aid, wasn’t that the phrase?
He was as gorgeous as ever when he opened his door, casually dressed in sweats and a tee. I imagined him spending the afternoon reading scripts on the couch, and it made me want to forget everything and just curl up in his arms.
