Page 108 of Grease Monkey
“Don’t we? Morgana, all my life, I’ve grown up following a rule book. Attending all the same schools—including pre-school—as my father, being friends with the children of myparents’friends, public speaking lessons at thirteen, tailored suits at fourteen.” He chuckles hollowly, running a hand through his hair, and the ends stick up in different directions, making him look so different from his usual kept-together state. “While boys my age were playing soccer, I was learning about foreign politics and shadowing my dad while he was at work. By the time I was heading off to college, they told me I had four years of freedom. Four years to meet new people, date girlsIwanted to. Basically, get it out of my system before coming home and expecting to marry someone proper. I hated them, Morgana. Four years felt like more than enough time to satisfy the longing to do what I wanted whenever and with whoever I chose, but that only made it worse.
“This is how our families have worked for generations, an archaic patriarchy that keeps repeating itself through each new family line. I was doing what was expected of me, Morgana. I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t,” I admit.
“Seeing you again at the gala on your birthday, I thought maybe it would be okay. I always remembered you were sweet, and I was certainly attracted to you, so over time, we would make each other happy, right? I didn’t want to fail. Icouldn’tfail. My brother and his wife seem happy, my parents seem happy, so why wasn’t I?” He tugs at his hair. “Fuck, I know you’re not happy. I could see it every day, but I didn’t realize how much of a fucking asshole I was being to you. I never meant to undermine you. I guess I was projecting my frustrations onto you, which is not an excuse. I am sorry I didn’t see it until now. What is it they say,misery loves company?” He reaches out as if to touch my face, but stops, dropping his hand, thinking better about it. “Jesus, I could even tell you didn’t enjoy it whenever I touched you too. That should have been a huge red flag for both of us, right?”
“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it,” I say, my cheeks burning. “It’s just…”
“You weren’t in love with me.”
“Like you aren’t with me.”
“But you love this Teddy guy?”
I nod, sucking my lower lip between my teeth because if I don’t, I know I’ll cry. The stupid overwhelming emotion of being able to admit that is crushing.
“He’s a lucky guy.” We stare at each other for a second and then Richard picks up a strand of my hair, twirling it loosely around his finger. “Do you know I always preferred your curls?”
A weak smile manages its way onto my face, and I reach to touch my head. “You never said.”
“Yeah, well…” He shrugs, an embarrassed smile pulling at his lips that reminds me of the old Richard—the one before we got engaged. “I always thought they made you look innocent and sweet. Guess I got that wrong, huh?”
My lip trembles as shame fills my veins. “I’m so sorry, Richard.”
“I know,” he whispers, tucking the strand behind my ear.
We both lean back into the sofa and stare at the blank television.
“So, Teddy…”
I angle my head, resting it on the back of the sofa as I ask, “What about him?”
“Is he the reason you’ve lit a fire under your butt and finally stood up for yourself?” The corner of my lips tug. He nods, humming to himself as he thinks. “He could have done it sooner. We’d have all saved ourselves a lot of time.”
We’re quiet and I let my eyes flutter closed as exhaustion sets in. “What do we do?”
Richard links my hand with his and squeezes, and I feel a closeness settle between us for the first time.
“I don’t know, Morgana. But we’ll figure it out.” The buzzer from the front door screeches in the quiet. “That will be the food.”
Richard goes to pay as I grab plates and a couple of sodas hidden in the back of the fridge, setting them on the coffee table and waiting for him to return. He places my pizza box in the middle, while pouring his linguini into a bowl and we sit, facing each other, eating it like I’m back in college and he used to come to keep me company. It’s awkward and sometimes uneasy, but with the weight of everyone’s expectations no longer on my shoulders and I feel…free.
“There’s a flight back to Connecticut first thing in the morning I’ll get,” Richard says, scrolling through his phone hours after eating.
I check the time on my cell and gasp. “Oh God, it’s nearly three a.m. You’ll be so tired.”
He shrugs. “It’s okay. I actually feel the best I have in a long time.”
I nibble the bottom of my lip and wrangle my hands in my lap. “Me too.”
When the Uber arrives outside, Richard’s things are by the door. The only luggage needing repacking was his laptop bag. We shuffle beside each other, unsure of what to do now.
“I’ll let our parents know what’s happened as soon as I land.”
I nod shakily. “Am I being a total wimp by making you do this alone?”
He laughs.
