47. Tuesday’s Gone
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
tuesday’s gone
ROMAN
TWO DAYS LATER
It’s been nearly two weeks of missed messages, but every time I try to compose a reply, I start coming up with excuses. Long ones. And then I sound like even more of an asshole.
Eventually, you just give up.
The anxiety, the waiting, and the fallout from all of this is making me spiral. I kept telling her to be positive, but I can barely muster the same energy for myself.
When I look in the mirror, I barely recognize the person in front of me. I don’t even go on runs anymore. The most I do is take Mitzy on walks around the block a few times a day, or to the grocery store. I live in hoodies and sweatpants, and other than getting up to take a piss and eat a meal, I mostly just exist in my bed.
And I haven’t even washed my pillow, because it still smells like her perfume.
I’m sinking back into the person I was just after Christa died. Sleeping all day to avoid being alone with my thoughts. Dejected. Unmotivated.
Depression turns into apathy when you feed it.
I’ve got dozens of missed texts, emails, and voicemails from Abi, Logan, Frankie, and even the Dean. Every time I get a notification, I want to throw my phone in the trash, but I have to check them at least once in a while. Sooner or later the axe has to fall.
Roman,
Your disciplinary hearing is on January 15, 2024 in conference room B. You’ll be subject to a question and answer period, at which time, you’ll be divulging the exact nature of the relationship between you and Ms. Imogen Flynn. Please take the time to review the following materials in order to prepare.
I’m used to most of Frankie’s emails starting with, Hey, Dickhead , but this is so… professional. Fuck, he must hate me.
I give Mitzy’s head a scratch, reading the email over again.
And again.
I have to respond within 48 hours to confirm my attendance.
I just want this to be over.
At this point, the only concrete thing I can hold onto is it’s not worth keeping my job if I can’t be with her. I haven’t stopped scrambling for solutions, obsessively running them through my head pretty much every minute of every day, but I’ve been too paralyzed to pull the trigger on the one choice that may actually matter. Instead of being an active participant in my life, I’m just fucking sitting here letting this all break me down. I’m so goddamn tired of picking up the pieces of my broken self, only to shatter all over again.
I lean over and take a sip of my coffee, but a vigorous knock on the front door almost makes me drop the mug. Mitzy lifts her head, running off of the bed and sprinting down the hall before I can stop her. She’s been my shadow for the past month, and I can’t even take a piss without her pawing at the door and checking on me. So if I’ve learned anything, it’s that she’s not going to stop growling until she finds out who’s come to visit.
Shutting my laptop, I climb out of bed with a sigh, making my way down the hall and giving Mitzy a little scratch behind the ears as I head to the source of the commotion.
“No bad guys today. I promise, baby girl.”
I open the door, honestly a little shocked to find Abi and Logan standing in the hallway. What I’m less surprised to see are the scowls etched on their faces.
“What are you two doing here?”
Logan scoffs.
“That’s all you’ve got? What the hell is the matter with you?”
He looks like he wants to take a swing at me, and I don’t blame him.
It’s been killing me that I haven’t been able to text Imogen, to tell her how much I love her, tell her how much I wish I was holding her and kissing her right now.
“I… don’t even know what to say.”
This whole time I’ve been hoping to tell her about the application I filled out to a culinary school in Seattle, but haven’t submitted yet. I’ve wanted to tell her I have a plan or a solution, to promise her that everything will be fine.
I want to, but…
“You could start by talking to her,” Abi cuts in. “She’s anxious, she’s depressed, and by the sounds of it… she might be thinking you want to end things.”
My heart drops into my stomach, my knees almost giving out as I take a few steps back into the apartment.
“End things?”
I definitely didn’t have it together before, but suddenly my head is an absolute whirlwind of thoughts; the next thing I know it, Logan’s sitting us all down on the couch. I put my head in my hands and let out a shaky breath.
I’ve let this go for too long. Why didn’t I just say something?
“Roman, that’s not all.” He sighs. “She’s been tentatively accepted into the University of Washington. She’s starting to make plans to move to Seattle for the new year.”
My throat tightens as my grief grows, threatening to swallow me up. Seattle’s not that far away from Emerald Bay, sure, but maybe she’s leaving to get away from me, and all the memories we’ve made here.
“God, don’t you give a shit?” Abi exclaims, venom completely coating her words. “You need to fight for her, Roman! What the hell have you been doing for the last two weeks?! For a man in his forties, you’re behaving like a fucking child.”
I snap.
“What the fuck do you want me to do?!”
Normally, Abi getting upset would make me back off, but I’ve been swallowing so much pain and frustration over the past month that it has to go somewhere.
“I don’t have any solutions for her, Abi! I have no idea what we’re supposed to do!”
I can feel myself teetering on the edge between tears and rage.
“That’s not the problem here, Roman.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “There’s nothing wrong with not having all the answers, the problem is you’re doing all this alone.”
Logan puts his hand on her shoulder, picking up where she left off.
“Roman, it’s fine that you shut us out for a while. We all got it, we all understood that you needed your space to grieve, but…” He shakes his head, struggling to keep himself steady. “Just think back to the last few months, man. Think about how much happier you’ve been finally connecting with people again. I know you might think the only solution is to pull back into yourself and avoid the pain, but it’s not just about you anymore; It’s about Iggy too. She loves you, man, and you owe it to her to tell her–”
“Tell her what?” I ask, struggling to hold back my tears. “That I don’t know what the hell’s gonna happen? That every time I promised her that I could fix things I was lying? That I’ve just been too goddamn fucked up about it to text her back?”
“Yes,” Abi replies softly. “All you need to do is talk to her.”
I can feel Mitzy begin to nudge my leg as I feel the panic rush back into me.
“I will, I— I want to, just… not yet. I have to figure things out first. I’ll figure out a real solution, then I can call her and we can?—”
Before I can even process what’s happening I’m weeping, Logan and Abi wrapping their arms around me as I’m forced to confront reality: It wasn’t the school. It wasn’t getting caught. I screwed this all up by doing the one thing I told myself I’d never do again. By isolating.
By shutting down.
I promised her that nothing would change if people found out.
I promised that I would love her just as hard and just as much.
She deserves better than a man who can’t even text her back.
“I love her so fucking much,” I sob.
I think about losing my dad five years ago, losing Christa… I’ve taken hit after fucking hit, but I can’t take much more.
“Roman, this isn’t over, but you really have to talk to her,” Abi murmurs.
Mitzy headbutts my shin, whining at me with worry.
I reach out to pet her and she puts a paw on my thigh.
“I think— I think I’m gonna quit.”
There’s a beat of pure silence as we all let my words wash over us, and Logan’s the first to break.
“You’re serious?”
I nod, closing my eyes and letting the tears flow freely down my cheeks.
“I can’t take my job back and just pretend like nothing happened, but it’s more than that.” I breathe slowly, in and out. “Without her, there’s really nothing left for me there.”
“Okay, but… what are you gonna do? For a job, I mean.”
Logan’s voice is pinched with doubt.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think lately, and… I really haven’t been happy at EBU for a long time. I think I need to step back and figure out a new direction.” I chuckle, gesturing to the bedroom where my laptop sits open on the bed. “I even filled out an application to a culinary school. Maybe I’ll do that for a while and see where it takes me.”
He doesn’t look the least bit surprised. In fact, he looks relieved.
“Maybe you can open a restaurant.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “Maybe I will.”
I run my hand through my hair, letting out a long, shaky breath. It feels good to be open and honest for a change. With them and with myself.
“But you guys are right. First, I owe her an apology for cutting off contact, and I owe you one, too. I’m sorry that I shut myself off for so long, and I’m sorry I was a shitty friend, even after all the two of you have done for me.”
Logan opens his mouth, struggling with his words for a moment before forcing them out.
“I… I love you, man.”
I sigh, letting everything we’ve all said slowly sink in.
“I love you too.”
It’s a sentiment that’s always sat unspoken between us, shared silently in gestures and laughter, and it feels freeing to finally have it said out loud.
“When I met Imogen it was like everything suddenly opened up to me after being locked away for so long, like the weight of grief was finally lifted off of my shoulders, even if just a little bit. I felt like I could figure out what it meant to be me again.”
I still remember the way she looked at me when she told me she loved me, like she was handing me her heart, trusting me not to break it.
“I spent so much time thinking I could never find even the smallest spark again, but she showed up like a fucking firework.”
“Then you should fight for her,” Abi whispers, nudging me with her elbow.
She’s right.
Of course she’s right.
I know exactly what I have to do.
“I’m turning in my resignation first thing tomorrow, and then I’ll explain everything to Imogen, face to face.”
I can feel my heart drop as I watch the two of them wince simultaneously.
“What?”
Abi’s voice is pained, like she’s crushing it down in the hope it will hurt less.
“Roman, she’s in Seattle for the weekend with Piper and Jay. They’re helping her look for apartments.”
Fuck.
Fuck! I waited too long and now it’s too late.
But, no, of course it’s not too late.
“Okay, it’s okay, that’s fine, I can figure out?—”
“Never fear, Dr. Logan Flynn to the rescue!” A grin tugs at the corners of his lips. “I just so happen to have come prepared with the AirBnB address! I am her emergency contact after all.”
If there was ever a time for Dr. Logan Flynn, PhD to come through in a pinch, this was it. I feel like I could kiss him.
“She likes pink roses and gummy worms, by the way. The sour kind are her favorite, so don’t skimp on them.”
“Pink roses and gummy worms,” I chuckle. “Okay, yeah. That’s something I can do.”
“Alright, so how about we help you clean this place up, and then you can write that resignation letter?” Logan chuckles. “And maybe you could take a shower?”
Immediately it’s like someone’s flicked a light switch, and I can suddenly see exactly how bad I’ve let things get these last couple weeks. Empty bottles, fast food bags, candy wrappers…
“You know what?” I groan, quickly snatching up a clean shirt from the laundry hamper. “I think that might be for the best.”