“You don’t seem fine.”
“Well, I am. I don’t know what that is,” I said, pointing at the stain, “but I’ll be sure to complain about it to the rental company when I return the dress.”
His expression was accusatory and taunting, except that it wasn’t. He really only looked confused.
“What?” I asked defensively. “Why are looking at me like that?”
“You’re acting weird,” he said.
“I just need to use the restroom.”
“You’re slipping away from me again,” he said. “Treating me like I’m the enemy when we’re supposed to be partners.”
“Can this wait until we get home?” I clipped. I had to be ruthless or I’d break down right there and make everything worse. With a look that told him the discussion was over, I closed the door.
Once alone, I gathered up the dress and splashed water on my naked lower half. With a decorative, perfumed hand towel, I tenderly wiped myself of cum and the blood from David’s hand. I was soiled. Used. Degraded.
With shaky hands, I repaired my hair. Red scratches on my back smarted from the bark and soreness crept into my spine. I gave myself one moment to crouch down and put my head in my hands. I breathed through the urge to break down there on the bathroom floor.
Oh, David. How could you? How could I? What the fuck am I doing? I’vecompletelylost control.
Downstairs, I weaved through the ballroom and spotted Bill seated at our table. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” And Iwassorry. Terribly, terribly sorry—so sorry, that I was tempted to confess everything right then and there. The lies rotted my insides, and they might very well end up poisoning me.
Bill took my hand, and I sat down next to him. “I thought things would improve after talking to Mack,” he said. “They haven’t.”
I plucked my hand from his and crossed my arms. He sat back in his chair, waiting for an answer.
“Well, that’s because there’s something else going on,” I said.
He shifted in his seat and glanced around the table. “Um, what?”
“It’s—I’ve been . . .” I couldn’t believe this was tumbling out of my mouth now, here, in the middle of a fundraiser. But I needed to getsomethingout, or all of it would burst from me. “I’ve been having doubts. The house, for instance. In Oak Park. All those things you described—birthdays, holidays, kids in the yard—I just can’t see it like you can, and that scares me. I think about it—a lot, and it gets in my head.”
His eyebrows folded. “I’ve told you before, once everything starts to happen, it will all fall into place. You have to trust me, babe.”
“No,” I said, wringing my fingers in my lap. “I really don’t see it. Especially the kids. I don’t know if that’s—that’s what I want. And I’m not doing it until I’m sure.”
A shriek of laughter across the room caused us both to flinch. Bill’s eyes drilled into me, searching for something. “How can you even say that to me? And here . . .?”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say.
He set his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands for a long moment. When he looked up, he seemed calm. “This is why people fall in love and get married. To have a family. That shouldn’t be news to you. I’m not giving up on my dream because you don’t feel like it. You’ve got to get on board. And I don’t want any more sulking, all right? It’s enough, for Christ’s sake.”
“I’m not sulking,” I said. “I’m really confused.”
“That’s enough. You had better snap out of this, and soon or—or I’m gone.”
I drew back. “You’d leave me here?”
“I mean I’mdone,” he snapped.
A woman took the stage. The sound of her finger tapping the microphone scraped over me.
“You’re done?” I repeated. “With us? With me?”
“Sorry to interrupt your meals, everyone,” the speaker said, “I just have a quick announcement.”
Bill gritted his teeth. “You’re being unfair, and—”
