It’s lame, but I press send anyway. TheMessage not deliveredresponse tells me that she’s still in transit. Which means that she sat in the airport all night, waiting for her plane.
The thought brings on a fresh wave of misery.
It’s either that or she’s blocked me.
I don’t know which is worse.
Kelly calls meon Monday evening, but I divert her call, texting to say that I’ll see her tomorrow after work. But on Tuesday, I can’t bring myself to go anywhere but home to bed. By Wednesday, she’s chasing me.
I’ll come tonight, I text her.
We’d like to talk to you, she replies.Please come over.
My dread multiplies.
It’s been taking all of my strength just to go into the race shop each day, but at least work is a distraction. I’ve spent most of my time in my office, working on the design for next year’scar and trying to keep human interactions to a bare minimum.
I tried texting Wren again, but got anotherMessage not deliveredresponse. I’m pretty sure she has blocked me and I don’t blame her, but the thought of it makes me feel as though I’m standing at the edge of a chasm, only a thin thread keeping me from falling in. I think I’m going slightly mad.
This feeling intensifies on the drive to Kelly and Brian’s on Wednesday night. My skin is crawling, my gut roiling.
Kelly answers the door, wearing sympathy on her face that I neither want nor deserve. At least she doesn’t ask me how I am.
“Hello, Anders,” Brian says in a tone that surprises me.
It’s rare for him to greet me with kindness.
He waves his hand toward the living room and I follow Kelly in, but come up short when I don’t see Laurie in her wheelchair.
“Where’s Laurie?”
“It’s okay, she’s upstairs,” Brian reassures me, but not before fear has gripped my chest.
“Is she all right?” I ask as he ushers me to the couch.
“Yes, we just decided to put her to bed early.”
I glance at Kelly as she sits down, but she seems to be avoiding my gaze. Brian looks at her, then at me.
“We wanted to talk to you about Wren,” he says.
“No, please.” I shake my head. “I can’t talk about her.” Not to you. Not to anyone.
“It’s okay.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder.
Kelly looks at me then, her lips pressed together.
I shake my head at her, silently begging her not to start.
“We think you should divorce Laurie,” she says.
I freeze and stare at her in shock. Her eyes fill with tears and my insides are shredded.
“I’m so sorry.” I can barely hear myself speaking. “Please. I will never be unfaithful to her ever again. I swear.”
“Anders, stop,” Brian says abruptly. “That’s not what this is about.”
It’s only when he holds me still that I realize I’ve been rocking.
