Page 51 of Escape Girl

I deflected, of course. “Did you not like it?”

A muscle flicked in his jaw. He was annoyed that I didn’t answer. “It was a fun party, I guess. But it wasn’t what I would have chosen.”

I sat up straight in the bed, making sure I was completely covered by the comforter. “Well, that’s news to me. You never said a word. You smiled and agreed to everything the planner suggested.”

“Because what I most wanted,” he exclaimed, “was to have the weddingyouwanted. It took me too long to understand that you were just going through the motions. That it wasn’t what you wanted at all.”

I really hoped he understood an important distinction: I had wanted the marriage, if not that particular wedding.

The muscle in his jaw relaxed and his voice grew even gentler. “So why didn’t we do the wedding the way you would have wanted?”

I’d been wrong to think this would be an easier conversation topic. “Because the wedding I wanted was impossible.” My voice trembled. “The only wedding I would ever want is one where my mom was there.”

Wow.I’d actually said it. Aloud. The truth.

Bobby was right. I hadn’t wanted to focus on my wedding day at all. I was grateful when it became an overly large, impersonal, glitzy corporate spectacle. I wouldn’t have been able to handle an intimate wedding that focused on emotion, family, and love.

Fuck that. If my mom couldn’t be there, I didn’t want it.

Next to me, he stilled completely. I’d barely said anything about my mom to him before. He waited a full minute before speaking in the most careful tone I’d ever heard him use. “I’ve always wanted to know more about your mom.” He smiled sweetly, and his hands spread up in the air as if flourishing an old-fashioned movie marquee. “The legendary Trudy Saturn.”

I winced. “Tru, not Trudy. She hated the name Trudy. Loathed it from the depths of her being.” A sharp pang reverberated through my chest. I grabbed a glass of water fromthe nightstand and chugged it down, just to have something to do.

“Anyway,” I said in my firmest voice. That subject was closed. Time to move on. Besides, I was curious. “What would you have wanted, for a wedding, if it had been entirely up to you?”

Bobby put his hands behind his head and mused at the ceiling. “Something really small. Just family and the closest of friends. Maybe one of them officiating. Personal vows. Lots of laughing.”

So yeah. The polar opposite of our wedding day. And a weird slap in the face to realize that he’d never said anything during the planning process and I’d never even asked him what he wanted. For two people who never stopped talking last fall, we sure hadn’t communicated on a pretty important topic.

“Well, maybe your next one,” I said.

It was meant as a joke, but Bobby flinched. “Shitty thing to say, Em.”

He was right. What was wrong with me? Why was I here in his bed, being hurtful? How much more toxic of a human being could I get? “I’m sorry,” I whispered, glancing over.

He met my eyes for a long minute, then nodded. Grabbing his phone off the nightstand, he brought up the alarm clock. “I don’t have any early calls tomorrow, so I probably won’t go in the office until after eight. Do you need me to set one for you?”

I shook my head, marveling at the role reversal. In our brief marriage, it was always me setting alarms and planning my workday while Bobby just rolled out of bed whenever I did.

“You have a nice life here,” I said slowly. “A new job that you like. A better relationship with Jamie. Friends.” Even a pretty home, I thought, looking around the cozy bedroom. That was a lot of accomplishment for six months. What had I done in the same time period? Worked myself into oblivion. Spent all my nights alone in impersonal spaces.

I let out huffy laugh that sounded jealous. Bobby’s life got unmistakably better once I left.See? It was the right decision to leave.

He turned off the bedside lamp before rolling to his side and propping his head on his hand. He hadn’t closed the shades, so the streetlights prevented the room from total darkness. “I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. I’ll admit that I like it here, that I like the work and the people. I love that Jamie and I are close again.”

He reached under the comforter and touched me for the first time in the bed, stroking my bare back. I shivered under his touch and at the familiarity. Whenever Bobby had turned off the light before we went to sleep, he always, always pulled me to him. Often we didn’t end up going to sleep after all. “But I will never agree that it was a good thing you left.”

He tugged at me until I was flush against him under the covers, skin to skin. “Never,” he whispered.

In the dark, he lowered his lips to mine. I opened my mouth to him, raised my thigh over his hip. I didn’t know what I was doing coming here tonight. But I did know that I wanted him. Had always wanted him. Probably would always want him. It was weird, but even when things were clearly disintegrating between us, even when I was falling apart and acting mean and aloof, even when I knew I needed to leave…we’d made love every night. Sex was always our safe space. I could still connect with him and express myself physically, even when I couldn’t verbally.

So maybe this was a goodbye or some sort of sexual closure? I didn’t know. And as Bobby deepened our kiss, rolled me on my back, and pinched my nipple, I didn’t care.

*

Seriously, 3:00 a.m.?

I frowned at Bobby’s ceiling. I’d only slept for two hours. Why couldn’t I even get a good night’s sleep after two of the world’s best orgasms? My brain was so messed up.

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