Chapter 1 #2
“Well, I do,” she said, downing the rest of her wine and setting the glass on the counter. Layne leaned against it, deciding to test him, wanting to see if he would respond differently from what she expected.
“Where do you see us in a year? Five years? Ten?”
A scowl immediately appeared. “I don’t need that kind of pressure coming from you,” he said flatly.
“Do you at least think we’ll be living together? Engaged?” she pressed.
His jaw set stubbornly. “Marriage is old-fashioned. We don’t need that.”
“Then what about goals? For our relationship. The direction we’re headed. Have you ever thought about having kids?”
“No way. Kids are messy. They take up all your time with sports practices and tournaments. Music lessons. School programs. I like it just being us.”
It struck her that they never did anything as a couple. True, she was always working, but he went out for drinks. Dinners. Football games and movies with his friends.
“When was the last time we went on a date?” she asked.
“Date?” He looked at her blankly.
“Yes. Just the two of us. Going to dinner. Seeing a movie. Walking in the park.”
He rolled his eyes.
And that caused something to snap in Layne.
“Give me your key,” she demanded. “Go to a hotel tonight. I’ll pack up the rest of your things, and you can pick everything up tomorrow.”
“What? Are you serious?” he asked, shooting to his feet. “What brought this on? Wanting to get engaged. Having kids. Losing your job. This is upsetting me, Layne. I don’t like how you’re pushing me.”
She placed her hands on her hips. “You bet I am. Right out the door. We’re done, Jeremy.
We’ve been done for a long time. I just didn’t see it or want to acknowledge it.
You don’t care about me. I can’t remember the last time you told me you loved me.
The last time you did a little something special for me.
Instead, you ride my train, letting me pay for everything. ”
“You are such a bitch,” he said, hate flaring in his brown eyes. “I do plenty for you.”
“Name one thing. Just one.”
She glared at him defiantly. He glared right back, but she saw he had nothing.
“See? You’ve used me. I paid for your MBA.
I’m sympathetic when you complain about work.
I’ve watched you quit job after job, trying to find yourself.
I’ve been nothing but supportive, financially and emotionally, and you’ve given me nothing in return.
I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time on you. ”
Jeremy threw his beer can at her. Layne ducked in time, and it hit the wall, beer splashing everywhere.
“You’re never home,” he shouted. “You are the most emotionally unavailable person on the planet. All you do is work. You’ve never even taken time to put up a Christmas tree. You say you’ve been here for me, but when’s the last time we had sex?”
She frowned—and couldn’t come up with an answer.
“See? That’s why I’ve been screwing around on you. For years, Layne. Years! And you haven’t even noticed. You’re a coldhearted, selfish—”
“Enough!” she shouted, humiliation filling her, learning he had been with other women.
And that some of what he said about her rang true.
“Keys,” she said. “Now. You’ve got five minutes to get out before I call the police. And don’t think I won’t. My name is on the deed. I’ve asked you to leave. I never want to see you again, you asshole.”
He stormed from the room, cursing the entire while.
Layne willed herself not to cry, knowing he would view that as a victory over her.
Jeremy had always thought crying was a sign of weakness.
She used to cry at movies they watched or books she read.
He had made fun of her enough times that she finally stopped.
She had become what she thought he wanted, something that was so far from who she was that she didn’t even recognize herself anymore.
All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob. Her twenties were gone. At thirty, she might be thriving professionally, but her personal life had just imploded.
Layne went to wait by the door. Jeremy appeared with his gym bag. It wasn’t even zipped. Clothes spilled from the top of it.
“I’ll have your clothes sitting out front in boxes by nine tomorrow morning,” she told him. “Don’t bother ringing the doorbell.”
“What about my other stuff?”
“What other stuff?” she demanded. “I’ve paid for every stick of furniture in this house. Every dish and glass in the kitchen. The food in the pantry and refrigerator.”
“My golf clubs,” he threw out.
She didn’t bother pointing out that she had paid for those, as well, although they had been a Christmas gift for him. It struck her that she’d been so busy with work that she hadn’t even shopped for a present for him—and she knew he hadn’t gotten anything for her.
“The clubs will be waiting,” she said, deflating, the anger leaving her, replaced by an emptiness.
Jeremy threw the kiss at her feet and left without another word, slamming the door behind him.
She would need to change the locks because she didn’t trust that he didn’t have another key squirreled away somewhere.
Oh, she needed a change. A big change. Traveling sounded good.
Going places and being anonymous. Eating great food and drinking even better wine.
And when all that was done, she was selling the house and leaving Dallas.
Maybe she’d find work in Houston. Or somewhere really different.
Chicago. L.A. Even New York. She’d gained contacts and wouldn’t be shy about using them.
Her life was going to take a whole new turn, and she was ready to end her time in Dallas for good.