Chapter 21 Faking It
FAKING IT
LEAH
Silence overran me on the way home from the Met. I could no longer lie and be charming. Deep down, I knew it was over, no matter what he told me. What had been a fairytale crashed down around my ears. How did I say what was needed? Rarely was I at a loss for words.
Anything Rich said didn’t matter. I waited a long time to settle with someone.
I’d been terrified of marriage. The difference?
I trusted Rich. He was one of the good ones.
He fought for women’s rights, was an outspoken feminist, and was endlessly supportive.
Or was he? Maybe he was just a misogynist with better branding?
We made it home.
“I might have to run to the office,” he said.
I kicked my heels off and stared. “Why?”
“Something from my staff.”
He lied like a dog.
“Who is C?” I asked.
“What?”
“In your phone. Who is C?”
Rich continued to pretend. He wasn’t that good of an actor. I saw right through it.
I crossed my arms. “Don’t lie to me, Richard. I want to know who C is. I deserve to.”
“C is Cate.”
“Your therapist?” I declared.
“Yes. Why?”
“Because she texted that she missed you and wanted you to ‘skip out’.”
“Why did you go through my phone, Leah?”
“I didn’t. I never unlocked it. She texted you while I was holding it. I trusted you, Rich. I tried.”
“It’s complicated. Leah, you’ve been gone so long—”
Tears welled. “Don’t fucking put this on me, Richard! Don’t! Please don’t do it! I loved you with every fiber of my being. So very much, baby. And you hurt me. Hurt me so badly that—”
“This is a brilliant act, but I doubted you’d care,” he feigned an accent, making fun of my midatlantic slip when I got upset.
He thought his humor would smooth things, but it didn’t.
“Don’t do that. This isn’t something you can talk your way out of. And, for the record, I’ve never even thought about cheating.”
“What? The girl who was known to sleep with the entire cast of previous productions? You think I’d buy that?”
“Don’t slut shame me! I’ve told you this before. When I am in a monogamous relationship, I am very, very monogamous. When I’m not, I’m not. I don’t get into monogamous relationships often. I warned you that I only considered it because it means so much to you.”
“Uh-huh. That’s why you and Lou were hooking up when we saw each other?”
“No. Not that it matters because you and I weren’t exclusive yet, but we weren’t fucking. And you always bring Lou up because it intimidates you. I get it. You’re bothered that I’ve been with women.”
“No. Not if you include me.”
“I did—multiple times. And you’re the one who asked—even if it made me feel cheap. You’d always get salty. That was why we stopped doing it and decided to lock things down. I trusted you, you know that?”
“I’m a human being, Natalie.”
“You don’t get to call me that!”
“It’s your legal name, Leah!”
“You’re doing it to anger me! No one calls me that!”
“Uh-huh. Because it’s the woman, the myth, the legend of Leah Roughy! As long as you think everyone wants to fuck you it’s fine. Honestly, you haven’t been around. What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m not a Stepford wife, Rich! You knew what you were getting when you asked me out. I have never been anyone but Leah. This is me. Take me or leave me, but I think we’re done here.”
I wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t sobbing. I was serious and that terrified him.
He turned away. “Baby, please don’t overreact.”
“No, I’m not. I am telling you to leave my house.”
He stopped walking and protested. “We live here together.”
“It is my condo.”
Rich crossed his arms. “Well, we live here, and I’m not leaving.”
I shook in anger. He had the gall to try me like this. It was mine. I bought and paid for it. He lived in a lap of luxury on a Senator’s pay rate while I paid for all he’d become accustomed to.
“Fine, I’m going to Michigan!” I threw my hands up in frustration. “And I will be back when you get your shit out!”
The only thing I could think of at that moment was how I wanted to hug my sister and play games with my niece. I wanted to see my dads and walk the beach. If I were about to end my engagement three weeks after it was announced—typical for the fuck up I was—I would do it under the radar.
I packed a suitcase and chartered a plane. I couldn’t fly myself because I’d been drinking. I got my pilot’s license as a teenager and was instrument-rated. For me, flight was freedom, but I’d have to rely on someone else to take me home.
“You’ll be back,” Rich said. “With a clearer head—”
“No, I won’t. I don’t stay with people who treat me like you have.”
“You want to throw it all away?”
“Is it throwing anything away to just… not continue? I don’t care, Rich. I wanted to marry you when I thought you loved me… when I thought you needed me.”
“Can we wait a few more weeks—”
“Really? Until the election?”
He winced, then nodded.
“Get fucked! You should have thought about the consequences when you whipped your dick out and fucked your therapist, Richard.”
“You’ll be back.”
“If I come back here, it’s to list this place. You cannot afford to buy it from me, so I will sell it. Best make other arrangements.”
“You’re still wearing your ring.”
“I bought it for myself. I will keep wearing it,” I said.
I had. Since he couldn’t afford the rings I wanted, we picked one out together.
I paid for many things—treating my money as our money—so it didn’t phase me.
At least, at the time, I hadn’t cared. As I boarded a cab for the airport, I wondered if he’d been using me all this time.
Five years of a life I thought we built together down the drain.
An engagement ended. Was I just his chief fundraising bundler?
Had he merely used me and my family to raise his profile in the DNC and meet more donors? It made me feel even worse.