Chapter 4 #2
Chris said nothing, just leaned back in his chair, listening. His silence hurt more than if he had defended me, but it wasn’t a surprise. Jessica’s words were falling on fertile ground.
“I think she’s just overwhelmed.” Chris spoke finally, his voice steady, as though discussing someone neither of them knew. “I keep trying to explain things to her, but I don’t think she sees the bigger picture.”
My heart twisted painfully. I felt my throat close up as the realization washed over me: this is exactly what they thought of me, what Chris thought. Overwhelmed. Small. Sentimental.
Jessica’s laugh was soft, condescending.
“It’s not her fault. Some people are just more comfortable playing at the margins, you know?
I’ve noticed she’s only good with people at those fancy charity events and her little community projects.
But in the real world, in business, it takes someone who can think bigger.
” Her voice dropped a notch, intimate, as if sharing a secret. “Like us.”
I could almost hear the smirk in her voice, the way she was trying to pull Chris closer to her, drawing a line in the sand with me on one side and the two of them on the other.
Her words curled through the air like smoke, insidious and calculated, each one meant to create a wider chasm between my world and theirs.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms, leaving crescent marks in the skin, the small pain a welcome distraction from the ache spreading through my chest. The cool marble of the counter against my knuckles felt like a barrier that wasn’t nearly strong enough to keep out the sound of their casual dissection of my worth.
“But you’re not the same,” Jessica added quickly, almost as if she sensed the need to reassure him. “You’re stuck trying to balance that world. It’s why you’ve been so frustrated lately, isn’t it?”
Chris sighed heavily, the sound escaping him like air from a punctured balloon, as if the weight of what she said was something he’d been holding onto for a while, a burden he hadn’t realized he could set down until she’d given him permission.
I held my breath behind the counter, the air caught in my lungs like shattered glass, waiting for his denial, something, anything to make this better, to make me believe this wasn’t what he actually thought of me.
The silence stretched between his sigh and his response, each second a tiny eternity where the image of him turning to Jessica, of agreeing with her assessment, felt more inevitable, more real than it had just moments before.
“She doesn’t get the stakes,” Chris admitted quietly, his gaze fixed on the half-empty wine glass in front of him. “And honestly, sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who can see the bigger picture around here.”
The words landed like a blow. My vision blurred with the sting of tears, but I refused to let them fall.
My pulse pounded in my ears, blocking out everything else.
It was clear that the chasm between us was widening, and I couldn’t even find solid ground anymore to try to cross it.
I needed to get out of there, but my legs felt heavy, rooted in place.
I stepped back, making a decision in a split second, not even aware of moving until the sound of my heels against the floor alerted them to my presence.
Both heads snapped toward me, and I caught the brief flicker of surprise on Jessica’s face before her expression smoothed into something neutral.
Chris, though, looked guilty, but only for a moment.
It wasn’t the guilt of being caught doing something wrong, it was more like he was inconvenienced by my interruption.
He stood quickly, brushing a hand over his face as if he could physically shake off what had just been said.
“Beth.” My name came out awkwardly, the tension in the air so thick I could barely breathe.
“I don’t want to hear it,” I cut him off, my voice colder than I expected.
I could feel the tremor in it, but I didn’t care.
They had already shredded any illusion of control I thought I had left.
“Whatever the two of you were talking about, you might as well keep it to yourselves from now on.” I stared hard at Chris, refusing to let my emotions betray me further.
“And, Jessica, you can see yourself out.”
I didn’t wait for her response. Turning on my heel, I marched straight to the bedroom, feeling their stares boring into my back the entire way.
I didn’t close the door behind me when I reached the bedroom, a small act of defiance, though it barely mattered.
I could still hear the distant murmur of their voices as they resumed their conversation, likely picking up right where they had left off.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my mind spinning.
Everything I thought I knew about us was unraveling thread by thread, and I wasn’t sure how to stop it.
Later, after Jessica had finally left and I was sure Chris had gone to his office, I heard him moving down the hall.
My pulse quickened at the thought of another confrontation.
I didn’t want to see him right now. I couldn’t stomach hearing more justifications, more dismissals of what I had heard tonight, of how much their words had hurt.
I turned off the lights and lay back against the pillows, trying to pretend I was asleep.
But I couldn’t relax, not with the storm brewing inside me and between us.
The bedroom door creaked softly as Chris slipped inside.
I kept my eyes closed, willing my breath to stay even, my body still.
I didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to hear whatever excuses he might have.
I felt the mattress dip as he sat on the edge of the bed next to me, his warmth too close, and yet so far away from the man I used to feel I could trust.
“Beth?” His voice was a whisper, but I didn’t respond, hoping he’d get the hint.
There was a long pause, then his fingers brushed against my arm, tentative, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch me right now. “I know you’re not asleep,” he said, his tone softer. “I don’t want to fight tonight.”
I clenched my teeth together, my body rigid.
I didn’t believe him. There was nothing left for us but fights at this point.
When I still didn’t answer, he sighed heavily and lay down next to me, the space between us like a gulf.
I could feel his stare on me, but I kept my eyes shut, praying that if I ignored him long enough, he’d go away.
The truth was, though, that I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of, having that conversation, or continuing to pretend everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t.