Chapter 52 #2
“I gathered that. I also know that the physical part of your relationship is sort of a new development.”
“I guess,” I say.
“I should have seen it,” she says. “You two have always been so…” she searches for a word. “Careful with each other.”
There’s a rough pinch in my chest. “How do you mean?”
“Like how he’d always get up for you to be able to sit down in a more comfortable spot at Christmas. How you’d hug him like he was made of glass. How you’d hug him at all…” she laughs shortly. “Like of all the people in the world, he was the one you wanted to reassure that he was special.”
More tears fall. Visions of Matthew taking the bat to all his hard work make me feel like I’m the one shattering into pieces. “I wish I’d realized sooner,” I whisper. “I could have saved you a lot of trouble.”
“But then we wouldn’t have Vaughn.”
True. I wouldn’t trade that. I nod, trying to keep my shit together. “Do you trust me with him?” I manage to ask.
“Yes. And I trust Matthew, too.”
“Why? What changed?”
“On Wednesday, Vaughn was missing you, and he told me about that night last week where he snuggled with you guys on the couch and watched Coco. That he got to stay up past midnight. Apparently it was a big deal.”
“It wasn’t past midnight,” I say. “But I can’t talk about that right now.” The memory of the love I felt that night is far too potent—too sharp a contrast to how bereft of it I am now.
“He adores you,” she says. “And Matthew.”
“How was he?” I ask her. It’s not like I don’t know. It’s not like I couldn’t see for myself in the Live, but I’m starving for news of him.
“About like you. Although without the vodka.”
“Right,” I whisper.
“Do you want to tell me why you never mentioned you were into men, too?”
I hang my head. “I thought it was a phase.”
“Was our whole marriage a lie?” she asks, and it’s obvious she’s crying, too.
Impulsively, I bridge the gap between us, and she meets me in the middle in a hug where she sobs on my shoulder. “I loved you, Nicole. I was faithful to you. The only thing I couldn’t be, apparently, was there for you, and that had nothing to do with you.”
She clutches me tight, and in some small way it feels like I’ve come home for real. Like the circle is complete. “Of course Raven wanted you,” Nicole says, her voice thick with tears. “You’re beautiful, and you’re impossible to get.”
I let out a sigh. And then I let her go. “I might have to kill her. Ruin her life or something.”
“She’ll do that all on her own. It’s not worth the trouble.” Nicole wipes her eyes and sits back. “So what’s next? You gonna go get your man?”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly.
“He’s waiting for you.”
I draw in a deep, sharp breath. “I’m not sure we’re good for each other,” I admit.
She frowns, asking the question without words.
“It’s so…much.”
“People dream of love like that.”
“But can they survive it?” I ask.
“You’ve survived worse.”
“The way I feel about him…” I trail off, hesitating. Not sure this is something she wants to hear.
“You can tell me,” she says, reading my reluctance.
“I’m not sure you were wrong to think my feelings for him could threaten my relationship with Vaughn. It’s—all-consuming. I’ve never felt like this before, and it’s terrifying to feel like you can’t breathe without someone who has so many other options.”
“Is that what you want? To leave him free to explore his other options.”
I feel the color drain from my face.
She notices. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Maybe now that we all know, that’ll take the pressure off. Maybe it won’t feel so intense since it’s not a secret. Maybe you can have a real, healthy relationship.”
“I don’t know,” I say, despair filling the carved-out space in my chest. “He asked me before we started—what if this the worst idea we ever had?”
“And was it?”
“If this is how the end feels…then yes.”
“Then maybe put off the ending a little longer.”
Unable to think about Matthew without wanting to rip my heart from my chest, I shake my head and steer the subject back to the reason she’s here. “I swear to God, I’ll never do anything to harm Vaughn.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, Fischer. I lost my mind. My therapist had her work cut out for her yesterday, trying to unravel all the assumptions I leapt to. I hope you can forgive me. That Matthew can, too.”
“You should get him home,” I say. “It’s late.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Sorry I’m…” I gesture at my drunken self.
“Don’t worry about it. I figured I wasn’t gonna be walking into the happiest place on earth.”
I manage a dry laugh.
She goes to collect Vaughn, and they say goodbye to me on the couch.
She assures me I can see him on Wednesday as usual, and I tell her I want to ask for a change in my work schedule that eventually might allow our Wednesdays to be more than a tuck in and a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios in the morning. She says we’ll work something out.
Vaughn gives me a long hug, like he can sense I need it, and I take every second, letting it fill the part of me that’s incomplete without him. “Love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too. The very most.”
He pats my cheek as he pulls away.
“Be nice to your mom. She loves you the very most, too.”
“Tell her be nice to me.”
I give him my sternest scowl.
He sighs. “Okay.”
Once they’re gone, the loneliness hits me harder.
I gulp as I stare at my empty, quiet apartment.
I think of Matthew walking with bare feet on broken glass.
I think of Wednesday when he won’t be here to keep me company once Vaughn goes to bed, and the idea makes me feel lost—especially when I extrapolate it to all my future days and nights.
I know he’s suffering. I also know we could already be over. But if there’s a chance I can be saved, then there’s a chance I can save him, too.
One of us will eventually have to make a move toward the other. And since I’m the one who’s run away from us time and time again, I know it has to be me.