Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Imake Caleb wait until I return from Maui.
We speak every night, but I do not tell him what I have decided. We talk about harmless things. The terrible pineapple pizza Ivy orders. A problem at his office. The sunrise breakfast Caleb and I never made it to because past Caleb was ambitious and present Caleb was naked.
I do not mention that memory.
He does not ask whether I miss him.
At the airport, Caleb waits beyond baggage claim with coffee. There are no photographs, screens, flowers, or witnesses. He takes Ivy's suitcase because she tells him to and leaves mine for me.
"I can carry it," I say.
"I know."
"You took hers."
"She threatened me."
"He learns quickly," Ivy says.
Caleb drives us to my apartment. He does not ask to come upstairs.
"I want to talk," I say.
His hands go still on the steering wheel.
"Tonight?"
"Now."
He follows me into the apartment where our marriage nearly ended through a three-inch gap in the door.
I have written my conditions in a notebook because looking at his face makes me forget the order.
Mr. Bennett has already left the renewal agreement on the kitchen counter. Caleb notices it before he sits down.
"You signed it," he says.
"This morning."
"Before talking to me."
"My housing is not a joint decision right now."
"I know. I am not arguing."
"Your jaw is arguing."
He rubs it. "My jaw misses you."
"Your jaw has its own apartment."
"Furnished monthly rental. No emotional attachment."
I almost smile, then remember the line I have drawn.
"You will not have a key to this place."
That finally cracks his composure. "I had one before we were married."
"And I took it back when I moved out."
"What if there is an emergency?"
"Ivy has one."
"What if Ivy is unavailable?"
"Then emergency services will perform their traditional function."
Caleb looks at the signed lease. "I hate this apartment."
"You loved it when we started dating."
"I loved being anywhere you took off your clothes. The plumbing has always been hostile."
"This is why I wrote everything down. You make me laugh and then I forget what I came here to say."
"You can laugh and still hate me. I won't get confused."
"You get confused by silence."
"Fair."
I open the notebook. "I am not taking you back today."
His mouth tightens. "I understood that before you opened the notebook."
"Good. I will wait six months before I file. We go to counseling every week during those six months. Together and separately."
"Fine."
"Not fine. Say what you actually think."
"I think six months sounds like six years. I think I will spend every morning wondering whether that is the day you decide you have seen enough. I also think I would agree to six actual years if that was what you offered."
The honesty stings more than an easy yes.
"The apartment stays in my name for a year. I live here. You live somewhere else."
"I hate that."
"You don't get to veto it."
"I said I hate it, not that I won't do it."
"No private meetings with Sable. No Jeremy. If either contacts you, you tell me before I hear it from Ivy, Owen, the internet, your mother, or a woman selling mangoes on the side of the road."
"The mango woman seems unlikely."
"Caleb."
"Yes. I tell you."
"If anything else happened at that party, this is your chance."
He drags both hands over his face. "I don't know."
My chair scrapes back. "Unbelievable."
"Sit down. Please. I mean I was drunk enough that I don't remember every stupid thing I said.
I know I didn't have sex with anyone. I know I didn't kiss anyone else.
I know I left alone. But Owen thinks there may be more recordings from earlier, and I am not going to swear nothing ugly exists just to keep you in that chair. "
I sit slowly.
"If another recording appears, I see it first. Not the wedding group. Not your mother. Me."
"You."
"And no more public stunts."
He glances toward the signed lease. "The airport was that bad?"
"The airport was beautiful. It was also insane. Those things can both be true."
"No more public stunts."
"You sold the Triumph."
"You have mentioned that."
"I am going to keep mentioning it."
"I assumed."
"I loved that bike because you loved it."
He looks down at his empty ring finger. "And I loved that honeymoon because you loved it. I wanted you to have one thing back."
"You could have used normal money."
"You would have sent it back."
"I still might."
"Then Ivy gets a second vacation."
I press my lips together.
"One more thing," I say. "No drinking for now."
"I stopped."
"Because you think alcohol made you kiss her?"
"No. Because I am sick of not knowing which parts of that night I lost and which parts I am pretending I lost."
That is not polished. It is not reassuring. It is true enough to frighten both of us.
"You might do everything I ask and still lose me," I say.
Caleb looks at the door for so long I think he may walk through it.
"Then I lose you knowing I finally listened once," he says. "It will be a pathetic improvement, but it will be one."
I close the notebook.
Caleb rises. He picks up his coat and walks to the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. Well, the hotel. Unless there was something else."
I want him to ask for a kiss. I want him to reach for me so I can decide whether to refuse.
Instead he waits.
"No," I say. "That's all."
He nods and opens the door.
"Caleb."
He turns.
I take my wedding ring from the drawer beside the sofa and put it into my purse.
I do not put it on.
He watches me close the clasp.
"Six months," I say.
Hope shakes through his exhale. "I can survive six months."
Neither of us says what happens if he cannot.