Page 21 of Love Off the Rocks
“You know I can read a map,” she huffs.
“Yes, I do. And so can I.” I hold out my hand for the map, and she hands it to me reluctantly. “Okay, so the fir should be here”—I point to the spot on the map—“and it looks like we’re here.” I move my finger to the left.
She stands next to me, bending her head to see better. “That’s not where we are. We’re over here.” She points to a spot much further to the right, which is most definitely not where we are.
“Mags, listen—” I start.
“No, you listen,” she interrupts. “You aren’t the boss of me.” She pauses. “Well, I mean you are, but not right now. And I don’t have to do what you say just because you say it. We aren’t at work.”
“Technically, we are on a work a retreat, but that’s not what I meant,” I say.
She opens her mouth to interrupt. I place a finger against her lips, hoping to keep her quiet for another minute so I can continue. “I meant for you to actually listen. Do you hear a stream?”
She cocks her head, then nods slowly. “Okay.” But she says it more like a question than an agreement.
“So, that puts us here.” I point to my spot on the map again. “There’s no stream near where you say we are.”
She studies the map again. “Oh.” Her face falls.
“Look, let’s just work together on this. It’s meant to be team building not competing. We can read the map together. Decide on where to go together.”
“Pfft. Says the guy who can’t be bothered to make a decision together when it really counts. Like when you suddenly decide not to move to the other side of the country like you’d talked about together for—I don’t know—forever before that.”
“Okay,” I concede. “Let’s talk about that.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“There’s no need. That was five years ago. Water under the bridge. You made your choice, I made mine.” Her words are nonchalant, but she’s still bothered by it, I can tell.
“But you just said . . .” I start. Then change my mind. “I thought you’d stay.”
“On the East Coast? And what? Follow you to New York?” She looks at me. Unanswered questions fill her eyes. “Why would you think that? The plan was never to stay. It was always to leave.”
“Plans change, Mags.” My voice cracks slightly. I clear my throat, feeling emotional.
“We had those plans for over a year.”
“I know we did. It was an amazing opportunity. It wasn’t intentional.”
“Bullshit it wasn’t intentional. That’s all it was. You intended to move to New York, and you did.”
“But I didn’t seek it out. It just fell into my lap.”
“But you said yes without even thinking about it. Or talking about it.”
“I didn’t . . . I thought . . . You’re right. I should have talked to you first. But shit, Mags. It truly never occurred to me that you would still leave.”
“You never even asked me to stay.”
“Yes, I did!”
Her voice lowers as she looks down to her feet. “No, Dev, you didn’t.”
I think back to the day she left. And the days leading up to that day. Not that it was a long span of time. It wasn’t even a week between the time I accepted the position and when Mags left. And though I can’t remember those specific words leaving my mouth, I also can’t imagine that I wouldn’t say them.
“I . . .” I start, not knowing what I want to say until the words leave my mouth. “I’m sorry.”
