Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Paige
Sundays have become my least favorite day.
It’s not just the endless sense of counting down, but it’s also Ash’s demeanor after he returns from Toby and Flora’s house.
I don’t know if he comes face-to-face with Imogen every week—I can’t bring myself to ask—but the shadow of her lurks over him when he returns.
This week when Ash gets home from football, we’re swept into our regular biweekly routine. Tejinder and Diya come for dinner with their significant others. Diya has her flavor of the week tag along.
The dishes are done, and Ash is putting the kids down while I sip a glass of the leftover wine from dinner.
After Imogen turned up on our doorstep today, I need it.
I haven’t mentioned her visit to Ash because I’m not sure what to say.
Telling him she came here feels like interfering, in a way.
Since she returned, I’m constantly walking a fine line, trying to keep my emotions in check, deal with the situation logically.
Be there for Ash. Not freak out. Leading with logic has never been so hard before.
But I’m realizing I’m not at all the same woman who arrived here a little less than a year ago.
The house is never as clean or tidy as I want it, but I’ve come to accept that two children are each their own natural disaster, spewing chaos wherever they go. Nothing bothers me the way it once did—the house, my life, feels lived in, and I can’t resent that. I won’t.
And the idea that I might not get to keep the two people who’ve driven all these changes in me makes me want to curl up into a ball and sob my heart out. Sometimes, it feels like I’m barely keeping all the threads of this life stitched together, and I’m not even sure if I should be trying so hard.
Am I—is this job—an obstacle for Ash getting back together with Imogen?
When I think about my current situation too much, my life feels like it’s balanced on a knife’s edge.
I take another big gulp of wine. Nothing is certain about the job I’ll be offered here, and I’m also not certain about what choice Ash would make if I presented him with another year in this house together with Imogen waiting so eagerly in the wings.
Normally, Ash and I would talk it out, and part of me longs to do that, but another part of me—the part that’s leftover from when I arrived—wants to make whatever big choice is coming in isolation. I get to choose what my heartbreak looks like. He doesn’t get to break my heart.
When Ash joins me in the living room, he has a glass of water, which isn’t like him.
“No drink?” I ask.
“Have you heard anything more from your company about whether you’re staying on?” He glances at me before setting his water on the coffee table in front of us.
My heart pounds because there’s nothing casual about the way he asked. There’s so much weight behind the question that I’m surprised by the heaviness, but I shouldn’t be. We’ve danced around talking about my leaving or staying several times.
“The end of April is all I know for sure.”
The fact I was able to get the project clawed back to four-weeks behind instead of six was a point of pride and also anxiety.
Ash and I are delaying the inevitable, but I don’t even know what that is, am too terrified to find out.
The desire to maintain some control over the outcome of my life is still there.
I set my wine beside his water, deciding that I need every brain cell to navigate whatever is coming.
He leans forward and runs his hand along the back of his neck. There’s a tension in him that’s either new or I missed it in the hustle and bustle when he got back from football.
“Just an extra month?”
“So far, yeah.”
“Do you expect there will be more?” He shifts on the couch to face me, but he doesn’t quite meet my eyes.
“What’s going on, Ash?”
It’s the perfect opportunity to tell him about the potential competing offers from Michigan and the UK office.
We’ve always been honest with each other, but our honesty never felt so loaded with emotion before.
Our life in this house was solid no matter what we had to say to each other, but for the first time, Ash’s truth isn’t something I want to know.
His truth could turn my whole life upside down, and I’m just not ready to face that.
I don’t have an offer from the UK branch yet.
It’s supposed to be coming, but I don’t know if the money or the job title will make sense for me, professionally.
Given Imogen’s return, I have to approach the offers rationally and logically, not emotionally.
I can’t stay if it’s just for him. Emotionless decisions have never felt so hard to make before.
The vibe I’m getting from him right now is that if I mention the offer from Michigan, I might as well get out a hammer and nail the coffin of us shut. We’re on the verge of being buried. There’s less risk if I keep the details to myself.
“Imogen and Toby were on me about a few things while I was there today.”
“Okay.” I stretch out the word, unsure whether I really want to ask. Since I also talked to Imogen, I don’t need a blow-by-blow about what her father is likely preaching to Ash. They want him back in the family fold, not just Chloe.
“I’m feeling a bit conflicted about what’s best for Chloe.” His gaze meets mine briefly before flying away again.
There’s a lump in my throat, and I can’t speak for a minute. He doesn’t elaborate, and I realize he’s going to make me ask. “What do you want?”
“Don’t know what I want.” His voice is gruff.
But he says it in such a way that I think he does know, and the real problem is that he doesn’t know how to tell me. That he doesn’t want to hurt me.
Oh, god.
My heart sinks, and I have to steel myself against any more emotions breaching my defenses.
I won’t make him say it. Truthfully, I’m not sure I could stand to hear it anyway. He’s been so honest up to this point that it’s hard to fault him for trying to protect my feelings. Maybe it’s obvious, painfully so, that I’m in this much deeper than him.
If he’s considering going back to Imogen, I don’t see how our relationship has a hope in hell. I wouldn’t want it to because it would mean I’m second choice.
“What’s best for Chloe. It’s constantly playing in my mind. I don’t want to go back to how things were when I was on my own.” he says.
Me either. I close my eyes and try to steady the riot brewing inside me. I’ve never felt so discombobulated by a conversation before.
The last few months, it’s felt like I’ve had a partner. A second parent. We slipped seamlessly into something I didn’t even know I needed, still longed to have. My whole body aches with the knowledge that I’m losing it. Watching the most beautiful life slip through my fingers.
“Imogen asked—” He swallows. “Imogen asked if we could try again.”
Tears prick at the back of my eyes, and I will them not to materialize.
I just need to hold it together long enough to get out of this conversation.
For weeks, I’ve listened to anything and everything he’s wanted to tell me about her or about the relationship they had before.
It wasn’t easy to hear, but it felt like the right thing to do, and considering how tight-lipped he’d been about her, I was honored he trusted me, confided in me. A new level of closeness, I thought.
“You have to…” I pretend to search for the words when I’m really trying desperately not to cry. “Do whatever you need to do for you and Chloe. Whatever that is—I’ll support you.”
“Paige.” His voice cracks, and when I look at him, there are tears in his eyes.
I can’t. I can’t sit here and not cry with him, and so I drag him into a hug, and I press him tight to me.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’ll be okay.” I give him one last squeeze, and I get off the couch without making eye contact. “I think I’d like to be alone tonight, if that’s okay.”
“Paige,” Ash says, and there’s so much anguish in his voice.
“No, it’s fine. It’ll be fine. I—” I shake my head, and I take the stairs two at a time.
I can hear Ash behind me, but I can’t face him.
I’ll beg him not to pick her, and it’ll embarrass us both.
I don’t even know if I can offer him more than the four-week extension.
Maybe the job offer will be shitty, and I won’t want to take it, even if I really want him.
I’m in my bedroom with the door locked before he can reach me.
“Paige,” he pleads through the door.
“It’s okay,” I say, but my voice is thick. “I need some sleep. Everything will be fine in the morning.”
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Ash says, and he’s so close but so far.
I try to clear my throat, but the lump is thick, and I can’t speak around it. Streaks of anxiety are spiraling out to my limbs and down to my fingertips at the thought of facing him tomorrow and pretending I’m not crushed by the thought of him going back to her.
“It’s just all so fucked-up,” he whispers. “Will you let me in?”
“I’m tired,” I croak out.
“Paige, I didn’t say that to hurt you—I-I wasn’t thinking. I’m so used to being able to tell you everything…”
“No,” I say, and I worry it sounds more like a gasp. “I’m glad you told me.”
And I am, because at least I know what’s coming.
Maybe he’s conflicted right now, but he won’t be for long.
They spent ten years together. Of course the idea of getting back together would be appealing.
I’ve known this was a possibility since he told me she wasn’t someone he’d speak about that first day in the kitchen.
It was clear his emotions ran deep. For him, she’s the one.
And for me, he is. Bad luck. Bad timing. But not unexpected.
I hear him move away from the door, and I breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s quickly followed by a torrent of grief that explodes across my senses. I cup a hand over my mouth to keep my sob from spilling out, and I go to the far side of the room, as far from the door as I can.
Easing to the floor, I take my phone from my pocket, and I dial Gwen’s number. She answers on the first ring.
“Oh my God. I’m so glad you called,” she says before I can say anything. “You must be psychic. I just quit my job!”
“Gwen.” Her name is garbled, and then the sob I’ve been holding in rips out of me.
“Paige! Oh no. What’s going on? Is Joey okay?”
“Ash.” I manage to get his name out.
“Something happened to Ash?”
I press my palm into my chest, trying to calm the heart-wrenching sobs that just won’t stop coming. “Im—Im-Imogen.”
“Oh, fuck,” Gwen says. “Well, the good news is that the worst company in the world lost me as an employee today. I’ve got nothing to do tomorrow other than fly standby to England to cut off Ash’s balls.”
Her reaction is so unexpected that my sob turns into a half laugh.
“We’ll pick up the pieces together, Paigey. And I’ll stay as long as you need.”
Then, instead of hanging up, she stays on the phone, and she listens to me cry.
And even as I’m crying, I realize that this shift in my relationship with Gwen came about because of Ash, which only makes me cry harder.
She doesn’t tell me it’ll be okay or that there’s another guy out there somewhere for me.
She just listens, and it’s the best gift she’s ever given me.