20. Ophie
Ophie
I manage to hold it together through the whole interview despite my phone blowing up with texts and phone calls.
Instead of checking to see what’s happening, I leave it facedown on the table beside my laptop and push my chair back to stand. The last hour was so amazing—talking to Penny about her vision and how I could fit into it—I just want to take a moment to enjoy the feeling before I find out what the fuss is about.
Or break the news to Philip that Penny offered me the job on the spot.
I never knew I could feel elated and terrified at the same time. What would it mean for us? Sure, we talked about the hypothetical of one of us getting a job far away, but I never imagined that it would be a real possibility. I never really thought he would leave me. Or I would leave him.
“Ophie?” Philip calls out as I pull out my secret stash of chocolate from the back of the pantry.
“In here.” I grab a couple of chocolates, then shove the bag of mini Snickers back behind the canned peas I have no intention of ever eating, and turn. Philip rushes into the kitchen, sweaty and stressed. All thoughts of chocolate and new job opportunities vanish at the worried look on his face.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” Maggie’s name on the string of texts that caught my eye before I flipped my phone over to concentrate flashes in my mind. “Is Maggie okay?”
Philip pauses, running a hand through his curls, standing them all up on end. “Did you talk to her?”
“No, I saw she texted me, but I haven’t read it yet.” I make to move around him, dropping my chocolate on the counter, but he catches me around the waist, pulling me into a hug. “Philip? What’s going on? You’re scaring me a little.”
Immediately, he releases me. “Everything is fine. Well, kind of not. But your sister is fine, and no one is hurt.” He corrects himself quickly when I try to move away again. “Um, just don’t check your phone until we have a chance to talk.”
He takes me by the hand and leads me to the couch, my phone still on the table. “Remember how you couldn’t figure out how to tell your family about us?”
“Yeah?”
“They know.” Philip grimaces, his shoulders hunching.
Dumbfounded, I don’t say anything while my mind races. “Ah, that would explain my phone blowing up.”
“You really haven’t looked yet?” There’s so much concern on Philip’s face, I want to say something to ease his worry.
I shrug instead. “No. So tell me how my family knows. And how you know they know. Do they know you know they know? And what exactly do they know?”
“I may have said something along the lines of not knocking you up before I married you while talking to Kel.” Philip ducks as I round on him. His hands are up by his shoulders, defending himself from my righteous anger.
“I thought we agreed to ease them into the idea?” My voice is getting higher and higher with each word. “What happened to playing it cool like we discussed?”
He gives me the short version of his morning with Kel and Nate and how Nate was the catalyst for everyone else finding out. There’s an undercurrent of tension in him that I’ve rarely seen, a hint of panic in his eyes that screams I should tread lightly, except I can’t. There’s a sick, sinking feeling in my stomach, which only gets worse when coupled with the guilt that Philip doesn’t know about my interview and is only concerned about what’s waiting for me on my phone.
“And here I thought Cassie was going to be the one to spill the beans.” My head is in my hands, and I lean over on the couch. My omission is starting to feel more and more like betrayal.
It doesn’t matter that, in theory, I knew these conversations were going to happen. That I’d planned to tell both him and Maggie the respective news this afternoon. Being faced with the reality of the confrontation before I planned it has me as sweaty and nervous as Philip.
“Is it really so bad?” he asks, tentatively wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “They were going to find out eventually. Now it’s all over, and all we have to do is keep living our life together, like we would have anyway.”
“But now they’re going to know what a reckless idiot I was.” I regret the words as soon as Philip’s arm stiffens and he pulls away. “Wait, wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Reckless and idiot are two different things.” I sit up straight, catching his hands in mine, refusing to let him go anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I clamp down on the anxiety that keeps telling me to hide the truth. He has never given me a reason to doubt I’m important to him. Confessing my feelings, and my shortcomings, isn’t going to make him suddenly leave. Even if the rampant emotions vibrating through his body hint that it just might.
I take a deep breath to steady myself. “Reckless was getting married in Vegas as a form of immigration control. The idiot part was that it took me two years to realize I’ve been in love with you this whole time, and everyone knew except me.” I keep my eyes on him, hoping he can see the truth in my words.
Crinkles form at the corner of his eyes as he smiles at me, the tension leaving as quickly as it came. “Everyone except us , you mean.”
This man. How could I have doubted him when he has never been anything but supportive? “I have to tell you something.” I cringe as his eyes narrow and he starts to pull away. “I had an interview this morning. That’s why I came home.”
Philip’s expression turns confused and the pit reappears in my belly. “Okay…why do you sound like you’re confessing a deep, dark secret? An interview is good news, isn’t it?”
“It is.” The fuzzy cushion at my back is itchy; that must be the reason I keep squirming. “It’s just that the job is based in South Carolina. And it’s not remote.”
My husband leans back, making space between us as he stares me down. “That’s what Cassie was talking about?” He pulls a hand down his face, scrubbing at his cheeks. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about it sooner, liefling.”
The nerves coiling in my gut at the uncertainty in his voice twist tighter. I have to tell him—he deserves the whole truth. “That’s not all. She offered me the job.”
The silence at my confession is so tense I can hear my neighbor’s car door slam outside. Do I break it? Why isn’t he talking? I depend on him to know what to say to fill the quiet. I have no practice at being the yapper.
Finally, he breaks. “Are you going to take it?”
I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but the blunt question was not it. Startled, I say the only thing that pops into my mind. “Should I?”
“Why are you asking me now, if my opinion didn’t matter before the interview?” He pushes off the couch, pacing to the window and back. His back is to me, but the tension in his shoulders is clear.
The highs and lows of this conversation are coming faster and faster. And I’ve always hated roller coasters.
My next words come out small, the guilt at his hurt weighing them down in my throat. “Are you upset? You didn’t tell me about the job in Australia.” I pull the fuzzy pillow from behind me and hold it to my stomach, curling over it, holding myself together while Philip paces the room, looking anywhere but at me.
Finally, he stops, rounding on me. “A job I wasn’t actually going to take. Because I didn’t want to leave you .” He throws his hands up in the air, then resumes pacing. “I just. I thought we told each other everything. What other secrets have you been keeping from me? Anything else Cassie knows that I don’t?”
“I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret.”
If the hurt wasn’t written all over his face, I’d giggle at how his curls are standing up all over from the way he’s been pulling at them. Instead, I bite back tears as he speaks again, my heart being pulled apart at his reaction. He’s so upset, more than I would expect from the situation, and I can’t understand why.
I’ve seen him upset before—seen the thunderclouds build on his face and then dissipate again faster than I could react. But this is different. Bigger. A hurricane compared to his usual tempests.
“You did a rather good job of it, though.” He sits down on the couch, leaving a gap that might as well be the Grand Canyon between us. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything after the other night. I thought we were on the same page.”
“We are on the same page, Philip.”
He doesn’t resist when I take his hand, but he doesn’t lace his fingers through mine like I hoped. Instead, he looks at me like I’m a stranger, sending a dagger through me.
“Are we?”
Another painful silence smothers us. One that I think I have to be the one to break. Only I don’t know how. I don’t know what to say to make it better when I don’t know what’s broken in the first place. How did everything fall apart so fast?
The silence stretches on longer and longer, until I drop his hand and snap. “Tell me how to fix this. What are you thinking?”
He doesn’t answer. Hands dangling between his knees and head bowed, my husband shakes his head, before pushing back up to his feet. “I need a minute.”
I swipe for his hand but miss, grasping empty air instead. “Wait, please. I don’t—” I choke on my words as I follow him to the front door. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong, please. I don’t understand how we got here. I thought everything was fine, was good, between us?”
Philip doesn’t turn around, but he stops in the doorway, his hands braced on either side, heat hitting me full in the chest, adding to my burning confusion and pain. “What else don’t I know? What else haven’t we discussed? A day ago, I would have said I know everything about you. Now I’m realizing that I don’t. Do you want kids? A dog? A cat?”
When I don’t answer immediately, too shocked by the turn this conversation has taken, he turns, eyes glassy as he stares me down. “Would you have left me behind and moved? Moved on?”
“No, I…” I barely get the words out before he steps back. “You do know me. You know me better than anyone else, I promise.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
My heart matches each step he takes, beating as slowly as an executioner’s march. When he walks away, I don’t follow.