“But you’re still there. What do you need to get over him?”
“Nothing,” I said emphatically. “It’s over.”
“I just don’t think I believe that.”
My nostrils flared. “I’ve been completely open with you. I let you read my e-mails, my text messages. I tell you where I am all the time. This will never work if you don’t even try to trust me.”
“It’s going to be alongtime before we get back there.” He went to the bedroom and shut the door. I knew he wasn’t coming back, so I turned on my side and closed my eyes until it was time to get up for work.
* * *
The trill of my office phone cut through my mid-day haze. I blinked. How long had it been ringing? Bill was the only person Jenny would patch through right now without notification. I wasn’t surprised. Bill called frequently these days. Checking in. Keeping tabs. Still, I braced myself. He had only dropped me at work an hour earlier.
“It’s me,” he said before I even spoke. The two somber words were enough to remind me that I was the source of his constant pain. “They’re sending me to take depositions in St. Louis for the rest of the week. I leave in a few hours.”
“No.” As miserable as things had been around the house, at least we were slowly uncovering new truths about each other. We were fighting, finally, and I had hope that one day, we’d look back and know it had been necessary to get us to a better place. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Well, you don’t really get a say in what I do right now.”
“I’m serious. I’m putting my foot down.”
If I spent my nights alone in our apartment, my mind would go where it shouldn’t. With Bill around, thoughts of David were easy to avoid until late at night. Any time Bill looked at me, I imagined he could read my mind. So I tried never to think of David. But without Bill or work to keep me honest . . .
“You can tell your bosses that I won’t let you,” I continued. “We need to spend this time together.”
“It’s been over a month, and you won’t even sleep next to me.”
“But I’m still here, and so are you. That means something. We can’t be apart right now.”
“What, are you worried I’ll revenge fuck someone else?” he asked.
The receiver slipped from my hand, but I caught it before it hit the ground. My mouth, however, hung open through the silence that followed. It had never crossed my mind.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a minute. “I didn’t mean that. I would never . . .”
“I don’t deserve that, Bill.”
“I know.”
“I just think you should stay,” I said. Nothing was good or comfortable between us, but we needed that to finally become the couple we should’ve been all along. “You have to stay.”
He hesitated. “Honestly, Liv, I could use some time alone.”
“Then I’ll go to Gretchen’s for a few nights. You can have the place to yourself.”
“I can’t say no to work, you know that.” There was a hesitation on the line. “But if you go see him while I’m gone, then we’re finished for good. I won’t be made a fool in front of my friends—or my family for that matter. Nobody else needs to know about what you did, end of story. Donotgo and see him.”
It hurt that Bill thought I would—but if he truly believed I might, and he was still leaving, then what did that say about him and his dedication to us?
“I have to go,” he said. “I’ll call you from the airport.”
I was still staring at the phone long after Bill hung up. I’d told the truth—I hadn’t spoken to David since I’d walked out of his office a month ago. But Bill was right not to trust me. Late nights were my time with David. As I fell asleep and as I dreamed, he was there. I swam in his brown eyes, pressed my cheek against his stubble, or touched his hair. His hair—I could not forget the way his hair felt in my hands, so shiny and smooth like the obsidian rock it resembled. The pain was still acute, like a knife wound, but at night it was soothed by the memories.
* * *
The empty apartment I came home to wasn’t much different than it had been the past month. There had been an emptiness there since the morning of my confession.
I flipped on all the lights, suddenly not wanting to be alone. I turned on the television. It was always tuned to ESPN, the only channel Bill watched, and the barking sounds of some sporting event comforted me.
