“I got caught up on a call.”I’m more defensive than I intend and my cutting tone causes her to sit up straight.
“Speaking of calls.I don’t understand why she didn’t call or text you.It was plain to see she wanted to speak with you.”
Morgan’s observation sends a warm, unfamiliar feeling through me.She wanted to talk to me.
“How do you know she didn’t call me?”Staring intently at Morgan, I cover for Paige’s uncharacteristic behavior.If she were really my girlfriend, calling me would be second nature.
“I guess I don’t.”She turns from the TV, cocking her head to one side.“Well, did she call you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?Need I remind you our relationship is none of your business.”
“No fair.What’s the big deal?”She can be exhausting.Like a dog with a bone, she doesn’t know when to stop gnawing at something and bury the thing.
“I’ve got a headache and don’t have the wherewithal to do this with you.”I rub at my temples.“I’m heading up.Will you be out tonight?”
“Nope.Just me andFleabag.”
“Night, Morgan.”
Removing my tie and then my cuff links, I’m only feet from ascending the staircase when she asks, “What’s going on with you two?Seems like there’s this tension or distance between you.Did something happen?
“Good night.”I take the stairs two at a time.
Paige comes home late and she’s up and out before I wake the next day.I miss her body plastered against mine.By that evening, I’ve had enough of this deliberate avoidance, and I make a point of being home early, only to discover Morgan and Paige have gone out.
Again.
According to JP and the note Paige leaves, they’re working on the Foundation gala, which suggests she has accepted Nan’s request to run Nuit Étoilée.
Not to be ignored and no longer willing to endure the strange haunted feeling invading me, I get up extra early on Thursday morning and when I return from my workout, she’s dressed and packing a bag.
“Where are you going?”
“Hi.I thought you’d already left.”She almost sounds disappointed.
“Nope.Still here.What’s the bag for?”My chin dips in the direction of the small suitcase she’s zipping up and my hands curl into the towel draped over my neck.My knuckles whiten as I wring the cotton tight in frustration.
“I’ll be in Montreal for the weekend.I’m taking the train and spending time with my mom and Sam and when I get back, I’ll be moving in with them.”With the suitcase now on the ground, she finally faces me.”If it’s okay with you, I need a few days to make arrangements to pick up my clothes.”
“Were you going to tell me these plans of yours?”
“I’m telling you now.”She tucks a few dark strands behind her ear, peering at me as if there’s nothing wrong or surprising about this.
“‘Yes, but only because I surprised you.What were you planning to do?Text me once you were there?”
“I told Morgan last night.”
“Morgan isn’t me nor does she speak for me.”I stalk into the room, now standing in front of her.“What’s going on?Are you upset with me for the screw-up with Hummel?”
“No.That wasn’t your fault.All you’ve done is help me.I don’t blame you for anything.”
“Then what is it?What has you running?”
I take her hand, leading her to the bench at the end of the bed.Avoiding my gaze, she bites her lip and smooths down the front of her skirt.
“It’s overwhelming.I need to get back to normal.To my life.”
Her features tense and it’s clear everything with her landlord, and maybe even our deal, has taken its toll on her.But what isn’t clear is if she wants out of our arrangement.
