His Other Life

Chapter 37

THIRTY-SEVEN

GEMMA

January, two years ago

A new year always meant a clean slate, and one that Gemma historically had considered with optimism. Twelve months sprawled out before her for her to do with what she wanted, four seasons waiting for her to spread her arms and welcome what each had to offer. She usually made resolutions—eat more fruit, try a new hobby, add a work certification—and some years she’d even stuck to them.

But this year, she’d woken up on January 1 and gone back to sleep. Jonah hadn’t even texted at midnight, and how hard was it to send a text? Since then, they’d talked on the phone only a handful of times. Something had shifted between them—something Gemma increasingly struggled to pretend didn’t matter. He was still sweet and curious and thinking of her, or so he said—except it was harder to find time to connect. He’d yet to find out if his territory would be changing, and in the meantime, they were keeping him in Washington. No trips south planned in the near future.

Gemma was glad work was picking up again, so she at least had that distraction on the daily. When she was with patients, she gave them her full attention, asked them about their lives, talked about travel, news, music—anything to be as present as she could because once she got home, there was only Jonah. She’d even started going to bed earlier to cut down on ruminating, and thankfully it seemed her body needed the rest. Every day she woke feeling like a freight train had struck her.

“You look like shit,” Cheryl said on the last Sunday of the month when snow tumbled like downy feathers outside the window. “You should take some probiotics.”

Supplements were her aunt’s latest obsession. The ladies working food service for the school district had formed a self-help book club after one of them had needed a pacemaker back in October, and this month’s topic was natural health remedies. “Every system in your body relies on the gut,” Cheryl said. “I’ll ask Margot for a recommendation.”

Gemma poured herself some coffee and grabbed an English muffin from the plastic sleeve on the counter. “That’s not necessary,” she said. “I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot.”

Her aunt tsked. “Not just tired. You’re sad. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Gemma didn’t respond, focusing instead on buttering her bread.

“He’s not worth it,” Cheryl said.

Gemma’s shoulders slumped. She didn’t want to get into it, but the sharpness in her aunt’s voice begged for a rebuttal. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. He has a lot on his plate. Work stuff. Once we know more, we’re going to make a plan, and things will be better. All relationships have their ups and downs—everyone knows that.”

Cheryl was quiet for a beat. “All I know as far as this goes is that you’re unhappy and he’s the reason.”

“His absence, not him.”

Cheryl threw her hands in the air. “Same difference. Plus guilt weighs a ton.”

Gemma picked up her plate and mug. “I don’t need this right now.” She stalked off toward her room.

“But maybe you should think about what you do need,” her aunt called after her. “Because he sure isn’t.”

Gemma slammed her door shut with her foot and set her food down on her desk. The coffee sloshed onto her hand as she did, so she wiped it on her pajama pants, cursing silently to herself. When the worst sting subsided, she pushed yesterday’s clothes off her chair and sat down. She reached over and pulled up the blinds, then blinked at the snowy daylight on the other side of the pane. Once she was used to it, she took in her room. There were clothes on the floor—not only here by the chair but over by the closet too—the plant in her window was beyond thirsty, and the top of the dresser sported a layer of dust that would never have had time to settle six months ago.

Maybe her aunt had a point. She wasn’t at her best. She needed… something. She needed Jonah.

She picked up the phone and texted him. Talk today? While she waited for a response and for her coffee to cool off, she nibbled at the muffin, not caring that it lacked flavor.

She’d almost given up and was contemplating going back to bed when her phone finally dinged.

I’ll call you tonight.

This was it, Gemma decided. She’d explain to him how important it was for her that they see each other at least once every other month if not more often. He’d understand. And if he couldn’t come down here, maybe she could drive up to him. They could meet in Seattle for the day. Surely he’d be able to get away from home for that. From Isla…

Her aunt’s words echoed inside her head: Guilt weighs a ton.

To lighten that load, Gemma spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning and doing laundry. As an extra bonus, she got to show Cheryl that there was nothing wrong with her. Some days you were down in the dumps; others you were productive and full of hope. That’s what it meant to be human, didn’t she know?

Jonah called shortly after eight, but instead of starting the call like he always did by telling her how much he missed her and how annoyed he was with his job, he opened with, “I don’t have long. I had to say I was running out to get gas.”

The thrill that had coursed through Gemma when his name had lit up the screen fizzled. “Oh.”

“But I’m glad you texted. I’d been meaning to call you anyway.”

Phew. He was thinking of her then. She tugged a pillow behind her and scooted back on her bed. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

He was silent for a beat as if there was a delay on the line. “Yeah, you too.”

Why did he sound so strange? Gemma suddenly couldn’t think of any of the words she’d prepared, so she settled for: “How are you?”

“You know. Busy.”

“Any news on the job?”

Another delay. “Not yet.”

“Because I was thinking,” Gemma said, at the same time Jonah said, “So, listen, I…”

They both chuckled, then Jonah said, “You first.”

Gemma hesitated. What if he was about to tell her he was coming to see her soon? Then her points would be moot. “No, you go.”

“Okay.” Jonah cleared his throat. “So, something’s come up. Um, I haven’t been sure how to tell you, which is my bad, but the thing is…”

He’s being transferred , Gemma thought. He’ll no longer have a work reason to come to the Portland area . It was a blow for sure, but because she’d already come up with the idea for her to drive north, the prospect of hearing him say it out loud wasn’t as devastating as it might have been before she pulled herself together. She could take it.

“I’ve decided to tell Isla about us.”

His words were so far off what she’d expected that it took a moment before they sank in. Goosebumps broke out across her arms as that old, wily hope snagged her breath. “What?” The word floated out on an exhale.

He was telling his wife. Was he leaving her? Maybe Gemma had been wrong, and his recent distance hadn’t signaled a cooling of feelings but of bracing for change. He had told her he had more than himself to consider, so that was probably what he’d spent time doing. It made sense. And without the secret hanging over them, they’d be free. A fresh start out of the shadows, and?—

Jonah cleared his throat. “Like I said, things have been getting better between us lately, and, well, we’re talking about trying for a baby.”

The technicolor vision came to an abrupt stop. One second passed, two, three.

“A baby,” Gemma repeated, as a void opened beneath her. A jet-black one with teeth. She pressed her palm against her chest. “You’re going to—” Her voice broke.

“Hey.” Jonah’s voice softened. “Hey, don’t. We always knew this couldn’t last forever, right?”

For some reason, the image that rose from the depths of Gemma’s mind right then was the gift basket he’d given her for Christmas. That uninspired semblance of thoughtfulness. His words now hooked into that image and made sense. Some part of her had known, as much as she’d refused to acknowledge it. A na?ve, starry-eyed part. Shame washed over her as the truth emerged, stark and naked: Someone else had owned his heart first. She was an intruder.

“Gemma? Say something?”

She swallowed. Found resolve to center herself. Willed her voice to carry. “No, yeah. It’s good. I’m good. I was just surprised because, um, what I was going to say is that I’ve actually been thinking that we should probably break things off. That it’s time. You know.” Her voice reached her ears from someplace far away, thin and impotent. When he didn’t immediately respond, she continued. “We’ve had some good times together, but you’re married.” She let out a sad chuckle. “I always knew that.”

He blew out a long breath. “Phew. That was unexpected. You’re not upset then? You know it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, right?”

His relief was another blow, but one that solidified her choice and dried her threatening tears. “I know.”

Silence stretched on the line, the distance never so great between them as those long, unraveling seconds.

“What are you thinking?” he asked finally.

What was she thinking? That she’d be alone again now. Or maybe that she always had been, even during her time with Jonah, since he was never hers to begin with. That she’d been the other woman, the mistress, the side piece, and not questioned it. That Isla would soon know and hate her. Would she come after Gemma? Or was the vengeful wife as much of a myth as a happily ever after begun in infidelity? “I guess I don’t understand why your wife needs to know,” she said. “Couldn’t we just move on?”

“You can, but not me. I’ve thought about it a lot since Christmas, and it’s what I need to do so she and I can start fresh.”

Gemma bit down so hard on her cheek that she tasted blood. Steeled herself. “When?”

“Soon. Our anniversary weekend in Bend is coming up. It’ll be a good time to recommit, and I’m hoping she’ll see it that way too.”

A seed of hope cut through the dark. She couldn’t help it. “And if she doesn’t?”

A dinging sound came over the line as if Jonah had opened his car door. “I think she will. If I’m completely honest with her, she’ll understand. She has to.” The dinging stopped.

He was trying to convince himself, Gemma realized. Same as she had about him. How sad was that? Cheryl had been right all along.

“I’m sorry,” Jonah said. “I hate this.” To his credit, his voice got thick. “I want you to know that I think you’re amazing. Always have. Someday you’ll find someone else, and whoever he is, he’ll be the luckiest guy in the world.”

Gemma scoffed. She didn’t want someone else. Not any time soon anyway. “So I guess this is it then,” she said.

He sniffled. Was he crying? No, that was probably wishful thinking.

“Yeah, I think it would be best if we didn’t talk again,” he said. “Easier.”

“A clean break.”

They agreed. Going forward they were to have no contact at all.

And that should have meant it was over.

But a week later, Gemma got out of the shower after work, and suddenly, staring at her reflection in the mirror, she knew with stark clarity that no matter what she’d promised, no matter how strong the reason for their decision, she was going to do everything she could to get a hold of Jonah again before he could tell his wife.

Because Gemma was late.

Time-to-pee-on-a-stick late.