Nia smiled as if to say,It’s okay, answer it, then lifted her coffee to her lips, her eyes peeling from mine and out the window.
Chapter 48
“Was that message a joke?” It was Jay.
I sped toward the bus stop, keyed up. “Why would it be a joke?”
He sounded out of breath. “It’s not like you ever gave me an answer so I assumed we were still on a break. Is that… is that not reasonable?”
“It’s not about being unreasonable. It’s like, you want to be open when it works for you, but as soon as it doesn’t, you want to be monogamous.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Is that not true?”
“No, it’s not.”
“But do you see how that picture might be upsetting?”
He paused. “Okay. But we’re on a break. Why would I stop my life when you haven’t even given me an answer?”
“You’re talking about your life like I’m not also a part of it.”
“That’s what you do to me.”
I paced the bus stop like a rabid animal. “How?”
“Has this whole journey with nonmonogamy not been about you? Which I get, I do, but where was I even supposed to fit into that?” he cried. “Tell me where I fit into that.”
I pictured him in mesh basketball shorts with the name of his high school, standing over a pot of angel hair or falling asleep on his sofa, his lesson plan binder on his face, or climbing carefully onto his table to water a plant. All these versions of him I could conjure with ease because I’d seen them all.
The bus edged up to the stop. I filed onto it. “We were supposed to be doing it together.”
“I was going to lose you if I didn’t say yes. How is that doing it together?”
“And now what are you doing to me?! You want me to say yes, or it’s over.” A guy in front of me angled around. I hated how thin and high my voice sounded.
Jay said gently, “You have a choice, you always have a choice.”
“The choice between who I am and who I love is not a choice I want to make.”
“Well…” He paused for so long I thought the call had dropped. “If it’s that core to who you are, maybe that’s what you need to choose.”
It felt like someone drove their fist into my jaw. “That’s it?”
“I just meant—”
“I guess this break is working out for you then.”
“I—”
I hung up. I’d never hung up on him like that, always seen it as a childish response, a cut below walking out of the room when someone was speaking to you. And doing it then was no less painful than I expected, like I’d snatched the words straight out of his mouth; it felt violent, and my throat hurt thinking about it, his startled, confused face looking at his screen. But when neither of us called the other back, I knew we’d crossed into new, ugly territory.
My aunt was standing in the living room window when I walked up to my house, her eyes tracking me like those terrifying cat clocks with ticking tails. Even though it was a cool March afternoon, I was sweat-soaked, tormented over whether to text Jay, apologize. Beg even. But for what? He made his stance clear. It was me who was either coming over to his side or not. I decided not to text him even though the silence strangled me.
The door opened as I made my way up the porch steps. “Welcome home, sweetpea.” Aunt Lisa turned on her heel, gliding down the dark hallway. I was starting to think she had killed my parents, but then I walked into the kitchen and found them arguing about the Democrats.
“They just need to do their damn jobs. Y’all messed this up, now y’allfixit.”
