37. Connor
There aren’t enough unorganized cabinets in the world to wrangle the nervous energy thrumming through my body as I wait for Jess to knock on my door. When I finally hear the soft rapping, I run my hand over my chest to calm down my heart.
The second I see her, though, all I can think about is making her feel at ease. She looks as anxious as I feel, and I don’t want her to feel that way about me. I pull her into my arms without a word, taking a second to hold her small body against mine and yeah, okay, take a whiff of whatever shampoo she uses that smells like apples. We’re back to creeper status.
She keeps her arms around me but pulls apart enough to look into my eyes before I lean in and brush a kiss on her lips. Everything about this woman feels like home, I can’t let her go.
“I missed this,” she murmurs.
“Me, too,” I sigh and hug her again. “I’m really glad you’re here.” Taking her hand, I lead her to the couch.
“I know we both have things to say, but I’d like to go first.” She’s still gripping my hand but uses her other to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don’t want to lose my nerve.”
A lump in my throat forms and my heart picks up speed again. That sounds suspiciously like a break up preamble.
“I know that you have a general idea of what Alex was like, and I get that you’ve probably heard bits and pieces from Chris and whoever else. I just…I need to tell you more because…I want you to understand.”
I decide the best thing to say is nothing at all and just let her take her time getting through it.
“It didn’t happen all at once, you know? It didn’t even start aggressively, it was just something that…slowly worked its way in over time. We met when I was still in college, he was a few years older than me and already out in the workforce. He was so different from the guys I’d been dating, he was…mature. He took me to nice dinners, he owned his own condo.”
Seems like the bar was pretty low if those were impressive.
That’s what I think, but I definitely don’t say it out loud.
She lets out a deep breath. “And then, as time went on, he stopped joking with me. He made more and more comments about clothes he thought I should wear. After Anna moved to California, he and I stopped hanging out with my other friends in favor of his friends…and his friends were nice enough, I guess, but at some point we didn’t see much of them anymore, either. It was just the two of us.”
“He was isolating you.”
She nods. “We always saw his family first on holidays, mine second, if at all. He even convinced me to become a CPA because it would make more money than my ‘silly art’ ever would. But then he turned around and insisted he would manage our household budget because he was better with money than I was. He, um,” her voice cracks and she composes herself. “He talked all the time about how we’d raise our kids and then when we got married, he told me he didn’t want any. That he’d actually never wanted any, and I was just imagining those conversations.”
“Jesus, Jess,” I mutter.
“I feel so stupid, thinking back on it now. Like how did I not see what he was doing? But it’s not like he just sat down and told me to change my clothes and ditch my friends. He wasn’t this huge horrible troll all the time, there were plenty of moments in the beginning where he was…he was charming. He was thoughtful.”
“That’s how he got you to let your guard down.”
“I didn’t even have a guard to let down,” she shrugs. “I was raised by two loving parents in a great marriage, none of my ex-boyfriends cheated on me or crushed me. I was so na?ve about all of it. But I knew when the breaking point was, at least.”
“Thanksgiving?”
She shakes her head. “Sooner than that. Do you remember the surprise party my parents threw for me on my 31st birthday?”
I smile. “I do, actually. I remember being happy for you because you wouldn’t stop talking about wanting a surprise party when we were kids.”
She offers me a small smile back. “Well, I was actually hoping I’d get one on my 30th birthday. I’d dropped a ton of hints for Alex beforehand, but he finally told me, ‘why would I throw you a surprise party when you don’t have any friends?’”
Now I’m speechless.
“Yeah,” she acknowledges. “I remember that one hitting me pretty square in the chest. I told my mom about it and that’s why they threw that huge bash the following year. And it was so perfect, I will never forget it. They flew Anna out, they invited the people from my office. You were even there for a hot minute.” She grins, but it fades. “They must have had Chris and Scott on distraction duty because every time I asked where Alex was, one of them would swoop in with a drink or a piece of cake or drag me out onto the dance floor. After I went home and talked to him, he just said he didn’t want to miss the NBA finals. I mean…Jesus, the party was already planned, he didn’t even have to do anything except show up. But I wasn’t important to him, so he couldn’t be bothered. That’s when I finally let myself admit that my marriage was a mistake.”
There’s a mixture of emotions swirling in my head, rage being a strong contender, but self-deprecation ultimately winning out. “Jess, I am so sorry for Friday, I can’t even begin to…” My voice trails off, not able to articulate how shitty I feel.
“It’s okay,” she squeezes my hand gently. “I was hurt, I won’t lie, but I know it wasn’t because you don’t care. And honestly, I bit your head off for buying me a toothbrush, it’s not like I’m winning Girlfriend of the Year.” We both laugh a little, and the tension eases. “This,” she motions between us, “is just a big adjustment for us both.”
A small wave of relief washes over me as I realize she’s not kicking me to the curb. “It is,” I agree. “But it doesn’t excuse me from forgetting, and I promise it will never happen again. I love my dad, but I don’t want to be my dad. I remember the look on my mom’s face when he missed things…she pulled it together for me and Chris, but I know it bothered her. I never want you to feel that way, I care about you too much.”
With that last statement, her eyes light up and her small grin turns into full-blown beaming. “You do?”
“I do,” I promise. “And I never want you to wonder about that. I mean, I moved my entire timeline around for you, Chris can tell you what a huge deal that is.”
Her smile remains, but her eyebrows come together. “What? What do you mean?”
“My timeline. My life trajectory. A failure to plan is a plan to fail,” I stand and jog over to the kitchen counter to grab my phone. “Look, see, I’ve got it all logged in here,” I pull up my notes on the screen and hand over the device.
“Wow,” she says, scrolling through everything. “You weren’t exaggerating, this is…thorough. Oh look, there I am,” her tone is hard to read, but I decide she’s pleased.
“Yes! And you’re in it for the foreseeable future. Jess, I don’t want to make any more plans without you. I know we can make this work.”
“Connor, I am…crazy about you and…and I’m so happy to be with you, but…” she’s still scrolling over my timeline as her voice trails off. “There’s, like, room for some flexibility in here, right?”
“Oh absolutely, you have to account for some flexible spaces because something will always come up.”
“Okay, that’s a relief. Because I actually got some exciting news today and I wanted to?—”
“Have you given any more thought to the lawyers?” I interrupt her. Now that she’s seen the timeline, I have to make sure she understands how far that $80,000 will go to advance her own goals.
“What?” Whatever brightness was in her expression immediately drains and gets replaced by confusion, with some irritation on standby.
Ever done something stupid and even though you knew it was stupid, you kept doing it?
Yeah.
That is definitely what I decide to do. But in my defense, it’s because I need her to know how much I believe in her.
“Jess, you have this incredible, creative talent and that money would only be beneficial. It would fast track everything. You could quit your job and move out of your apartment.”
“I like my apartment,” she says quietly. “And I’m perfectly comfortable with the pace I’ve been keeping. I mean, I may not have it all written down and color coded in my phone, but I did make a plan when I started going back to school and it’s doing just fine.”
“But this is not just a couple hundred bucks, it’s?—”
“I know how much money it is! Believe me, I am well aware! And if it was coming from anyone else, I would be more than happy to accept it! But after everything I just told you, how can you not understand? He will make my life a living hell—a skill he’s mastered over the years—and I cannot do it, I can’t go back to that.”
“Fuck him!” Apparently we’re yelling at each other now. “That’s what the lawyers are for!”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Do you think that’s how it works in the real world? A piece of paper keeps abusers in line?”
“You’ve been divorced long enough, stop letting him control you!”
“Oh no, you’re right, I should take the money and let you do it instead!”
That one hits me. “Excuse me?”
“It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned you are,” she shouts. “The lawyers, the timeline…it’s all just another method of control! Maybe you’re not trying to control me directly, but you’re sure as hell trying to control everything around me, and it’s really not much of a difference.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying this isn’t patience, Connor! I asked you for patience, I asked you to let me move slowly through this. It—it’s like you didn’t hear a word I just said about Alex?—”
“I heard every miserable word you said about that worthless piece of sh?—”
“Then how can you possibly pressure me to do this?” There’s a shine to her eyes, and she quiets her voice. “Please stop asking me to do this.”
My heart shatters into a thousand pieces. This is not on the timeline. There isn’t even room for this in the flexibility spaces. I am standing in my living room, staring at the woman I love while she tries not to cry. And I can’t tell if the pressure in my chest is from knowing I have pushed her to this point or knowing that she thinks so little of me. That she thinks I’m trying to hold authority over her the way he had.
Then suddenly, a stabbing pain in my forehead overrides the ache in my chest.
“Connor?” She sounds scared. I want to say something but I can’t. I can’t even see her. Are my eyes closed? I open them, but there are two couches in front of me instead of one. Then suddenly there’s light pressure around my waist, pushing me forward towards the door. I recognize her touch, and even though her words sound distant, I can hear the direction and the jingling of keys. She’s guiding us out of my place.
“Where are we going?” I’m pretty sure that’s what I ask. But I don’t really pay attention to her answer.
Even though my vision is doubled, I’m able to make out the bright red Camry. She opens the door, tosses something from the front seat into the back, and helps me into the car. After that, all I can register is the firm grip of her hand in mine on the drive to wherever we’re going.