“Bill’s not right for you. I never thought so. You’re my best friend in the world, and all I ever wanted for you is to find happiness again, for someone to open your eyes to all the love out there.” She sat back in her seat. “When you said ‘yes’ to Bill’s proposal, I couldn’t believe it. I couldnotbelieve that he was the one you chose when you could have anyone.” I started to laugh, but she snapped her fingers at me. “Anyone, Olivia. I mean it. And not only that, but you deserve more than what Bill gives you.”
“But Bill has given me so much,” I said. “And all he asked for in return was the same—security, love, and eventually, a family.”
“He loves you.” She nodded. “He’d never intentionally hurt you. But that’s not a reason to commit the rest of your life to him. Sweetie, you picked him because he was safe, like I said before, and because he couldn’t hurt you. How could he, when you never let him close enough to?”
“But maybe I should’ve. Maybe I owe him a real chance,” I said. “And maybe Lucy’s right about counseling.”
“Andmaybe,” Gretchen said, “he never gave you a reason to let him in. The last few weeks that you and David weren’t speaking, you thought it was over between you two. If Bill had left you when you told him you cheated, do you think it would have hurt as much as losing David did?”
Shame descended as my gut told me it wouldn’t have hurt nearly as much.
“I want to see you with someone you love so much, you can’t bear it,” she said.
“How do you know David’s that person?” I asked.
“I’ve only seen a fraction of what you’ve been through this last month. Only what you’ve let me see. And just that little bit was heartbreaking. But it also gave me faith that you were within reach again.”
“Within reach?”
“You’ve been so closed off since your parents’ divorce, honey. You have to let go of that. You have to take this chance on love. I know I had no right to call David and tell him to go to you last night. I know that Bill will hate me forever if he finds out.” She bit her bottom lip and glanced at her plate. “But I needed to see for myself if David was going through the same thing as you. And I could hear in his voice that he was. I mean, I don’t know if he threwcerealagainst the wall,” she said with a small smile, “but it wouldn’t surprise me if he had.”
I laughed lightly, even though the pain was fresh. Two nights earlier, I’d thought I’d die on my couch of heartbreak, shame, and grief. I knew ifI’dseen Gretchen the way she’d seenme, I would’ve done the same thing. Now, like she’d promised me months ago, she was helping me move the heavy couch and all its baggage in my head and put garbage by the curb where it belonged.
She rubbed my arm. “Like I said, I might regret saying this, but I think you’re making the right choice.”
“Breaking Bill’s heart, leaving my apartment, telling my parents I’m a cheater, divorce . . . you think it’s right?” I asked.
“My gut tells me yes.”
I sighed, and though it weighed my heart with shame, I said, “Mine, too.”
Her smile broke. “So what happens now?”
My heart began to pound. Bill was on his way home a day early from his work trip to St. Louis. He’d be back tonight. At eight o’clock. I’d been avoiding his calls, so all this I knew from an e-mail. I swallowed dryly and glanced at the clock on the wall over Gretchen’s head: six forty-five.
“Bill gets home in an hour.”
“Will David be there when you tell him?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I told him he couldn’t be.”
Gretchen took my hand. “Are you sure about that? I’ll bet David’s freaking the fuck out.”
“He is.” David had made it very clear he didn’t want me to feel alone in this, but I couldn’t think of anything worse than Bill having to face meandthe man I was leaving him for at the same time. “But I’m sure,” I said. “This is something I need to do on my own.”
2
My nerves had been humming steadily since leaving the restaurant. With a wave of nausea, I jumped up from my kitchen table, ready to run to the bathroom. As the urge to vomit passed, I sat down again and flattened both hands in front of me.
Though dark and chilly out, the rain had finally let up earlier in the day. Gretchen had agreed to come home with me and had just left my apartment to wait downstairs until Bill and I had finished talking. I looked over at the door—and my small duffel bag beside it—for the hundredth time.
I knew I should focus on what I’d say to Bill, but David’s presence in my mind was, as usual, too big. It almost felt as though life hadn’t quite begun until I’d found myself wrapped in his big arms. Last night, I’d jumped—launched—myself into them, securing my body to his as though losing him meant death.
Then we’d fought in the rain. He’d wanted methatmoment. He’d wanted me to get my things and come home with him. Then he’d demanded to be there when I told Bill.
To all of those things, I’d said no.
Now that I’d made the decision, Bill needed to know the truth before anything further happened. David hadn’t been happy when I’d told him I’d be going home with Gretchen tonight because I didn’t feel right going straight to his place.
