Page 115 of Lucky Night

You wanted to talk about this, Jenny. You kept coming back to it. Whether we can choose, or change. Whether we have any control. This is the perfect illustration! You wish you weren’t here? Theneverythingwould have to be different. You’d be a different person.

She leaves the bathroom. He follows.

No more books. No more famous authorhood. No more faking your fake orgasms with me for six years. That work for you?

Stop it, Nick. Stop talking.

You didn’t have a choice, Jenny. Why can’t you see that? We’re here. We were always going to be here. And you should be glad about that.

She drags the duvet to the sofa and wraps herself in it, turning to the window. She won’t let him upset her.

But he won’t leave her alone.

Seriously, you should feel comforted. It relieves you of accountability. Your failings as a wife, a mother, a Catholic—not your problem! Your total lack of self-awareness, all your little lies and evasions? Not your fault!

Nick, I swear to God if you don’t stop talking, I’ll—

And the big lies, too. Cheating on your imbecile husband, foryears. Fucking another woman’s husband. Don’t fret about that little bit of treachery against the sisterhood—you couldn’t help yourself!

Shut up! she cries.

Why do I have to work so hard to convince you? He’s standing over her again, voice raised, insistent. You already believe women are enslaved. That Feminism 101 insight makes sense to you, but you can’t see that it applies across the board, that none of us are free, that we’re all trapped in what is essentially one giant burning hotel room?

She looks up at him, glaring down at her.

We’re not free, he says. We. Are. Not. Free. How do you not see that, Jenny? Tell me. How do you not seeit?

And just like that, she does.

She seesit.

Not hisit. A far more important one.

The answer to everything.

And it’s in her hands!

She just has to do one thing.

Can she?

She looks up at him. Glaring down at her, hands on his hips, waiting.

She takes a deep breath.

Nineteen

I fell in love with you, she says.

He stares at her.

I did, she says. I fell madly in love with you, and I loved you for a long time.

We’re live at the site of an uncontrolled blaze in Midtown Manhattan, which has already claimed the lives of numerous firefighters and bystanders, while scores of guests remain trapped—

What the fuck are you talking about? he demands.

Wow, she says. Her breath left her all in a whoosh when she spoke, and she’s still trying to catch it. But not because she’s scared. She’s not nauseous anymore, either.

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