Page 87 of Conflagration
She holds her hand up in surrender. “Yours. I’ll always be on your side. You know that. What do you want me to say? Let’s chop off his balls? Key his car? Call him a miserable bastard?”
“No. None of that would make me feel better.”
“Exactly, and I know that. I guess I’m just wondering if your leaving was a rash decision. Perhaps, if you’d stayed, you could’ve talked things out once he cooled down.”
Shaking my head, I shudder as I remember his expression, how cool and disdainful it was. “He’d already decided he wasn’t going to believe me before I walked in the door. The worst part? I have no idea what Benjamin even said to him.”
She sits up and jabs my shoulder. “See! Who knows how that asshole spun it? If you’d have stayed, you could’ve figured that out.”
“Does it really matter what he said? I can put two and two together. He made it seem like I left him because the company’s going under. Everything I’ve always told Branson I never wanted to be, he now believes I am. I could’ve argued with him until I was blue in the face and it would’ve done no good. You didn’t see the look on his face. His mind was made up.”
My sister sighs. “I just… I really hoped he was it for you. Even just being around you two for a few hours, I could see how happy you were together. I’ve never seen you like that, and I don’t know… Part of me hopes you can work this out.”
Deep down, I know I want that, too, but I won’t allow myself to voice it. Not yet. It’s too raw, too fresh. It’s too soon to hope.
My phone buzzes again, and as she hands it to me, I see that, this time, it’s a text.
Baby, where are you? We have to talk. Tell me where you are.
My thumb hovers over the reply button as the battle between wanting to reach out and wanting space wages in my mind. Alyssa takes pity on me and takes the phone, shutting it off.
“Let’s forget about him for tonight. Lucky for you, I have the latest superhero movie and I hear Chris Evans is extremely delicious in it. Nothing like a little eye candy to make you feel better. Tomorrow’s a new day, and we’ll figure it out then.”
I give her a grateful smile and curl up on the couch, wondering how in the hell everything got so messed up. As Captain America comes on the screen, my heart constricts and I have to laugh at the irony. The memory of our first date floods my mind, and I ache for the Branson from that night. The Branson from all of the other nights. The guy he’s been the entire time we’ve been together—not the one who surfaced earlier today.
Am I really going to let one day ruin what has been the best summer of my life? I thought I’d changed, but have I? Or am I really no different from that girl who began this story by running away instead of facing her problems head on?
AFTER A restless night, I jerk awake to pots clanging in the kitchen. I have to catch my bearings as I look around the room—my old guest room. Tears well in my eyes as everything from yesterday comes rushing back in. I made it about halfway through Captain America before feigning sleepiness, but the truth is that I’d become too accustomed to curling up on the couch with him and all I wanted to do was go to sleep to wipe away the memory of the day. Unfortunately, my body had a different idea as I tossed and turned all night.
It’s incredible how you can live twenty-seven years spending most nights sleeping alone, yet after nearly three months of sharing Branson’s bed, I can’t sleep without him. Every time I rolled over to find him, to place my hand on his chest, I woke up, finding him missing. Halfway through the night, I had to put on sweatpants as I felt cold without his warm body to curl up next to.
They say the first night’s always the hardest. I’d like to know who they are. I don’t see how tonight will be any easier.
Annoyed with myself, I push the covers off and head to the bathroom. A long, hot shower does little to refresh me, and when I go back to my room, I repack my bag, knowing that I need a change in scenery. I need to be alone, and I need to do what I set out to do when I left Atlanta for the first time. As happy as I am that I found Branson, I still need to find myself. I just hope it doesn’t take that long.
As I join Alyssa in the kitchen, her eyebrows rise when she spots my bag, but she doesn’t say a word. I sit down at the breakfast table and she joins me, placing coffee and a plate of eggs in front of me before she hands me my phone. I eye it for a second, unsure of what I want to do, but then curiosity gets the better of me.
“Moment of truth,” I whisper, powering it on.
Twelve missed calls, one on the hour, every hour since he called the first time.
Twelve text messages, at the half, varying from pleading to pissed off to demanding I come home.
Home.
I don’t even know where that is anymore.
“I have to go,” I tell my sister as I stand up and slide my phone into my pocket. “It’s only a matter of time before he shows up here, and I want to be long gone before that happens.”
She sighs, giving me a small shake of her head. “No. What you need to do is stop running. Sure, leaving Benjamin was the best thing you ever did, but six months from now, will you be able to say the same thing about Branson?”
My heart squeezes, knowing there’s no comparison between the two. “You know they’re incomparable, Alyssa.”
“Of course they are. They’re night and day. The same goes for you and his ex-wife, and deep down, he knows that. Ari, you love him. And I know he loves you, too. This was a misunderstanding of epic proportions, and instead of running away, maybe it’s time you face it head on.”
“I just need time. I need to think. I need to know if I’m strong enough to get over this or that I’m strong enough to move on. Either way, I have to do this myself.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “I already know you are, but if you have to figure it out, I get it. Just remember, women are stronger and smarter than men. And we know how to forgive. If every woman walked away the first time her man did something stupid, we’d all be lesbians. Trust me. I tried that in college. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
