I have wanted him desperately. And he has never returned any of that effort, not nearly enough of that desire. And now he wants me to keep fighting. I have fought enough.
“Are you kidding me?” I burst out. “If you want us to survive this somehow—and frankly, I don't think that's possible—you have to fight for us. I’m done. You want me to fight for us with you? I've already done my part. Now it's your turn, you spend the next twenty years fighting for us. The way that I have fought for us. And then maybe we'll be even. Okay? Enough of that. Don't dump yet another problem in my lap. Another Luke-fucked-up and Grace-will-fix-that situation. That's not what this is.”
“That’s what I mean,” he cuts in, his breath surging out of him now as he bends at the knee, trying to keep eye contact with me. “I’m saying this all wrong. I don’t know what the right thing to say is. But I want to fix it. Do you want me to fix it?”
“I don't know what I want.” I’m numb inside. “I know that I wanted you desperately. I loved you far too much. Right now, I just want to get my show going. I just—you know, for a long time I have supported your career, through good and very bad.”
The numb feeling is warming into some sizzling anger again. I’m so tired of this cycle.
I roll my neck, exhale, and shake it off. “Now it's my fucking turn. I need you to get out of my way for a little bit. That's what I want. I don't have the energy to fight about this right now. What I need is to work. And it's going to be really fucking challenging as it is, so please don't make it any harder.”
“Okay. I hear you.”
“And I need you to get out of the apartment, because I can’t sleep at Sam’s again.” I gesture in the direction of his brother’s building. “I’m not ready to explain…”
He swallows, his eyes wide, and he nods. “I’ll go to a hotel.”
“Look for something more long term than a hotel,” I mutter.
He steps back, and I open the door to my car. Then I close it again, swearing, because I need to put Sam’s sheets in the fucking dryer.
“What is it?”
I shake my head, and he follows me to Sam’s building.
“Go away,” I tell him, exasperated.
“Maybe I’ll stay here,” he says as I use the key fob I should probably stop using. Sam and I have had a co-dependent relationship for too long, and he’s in a relationship now. I’m no longer his stand-in mother or big sister, and he’s no longer my safe space.
Ergo, his apartment is no longer my safe space.
My heart aches a bit as I realize that, albeit not for the first time. It’s been an adjustment process for me because I’m so fucking needy. And as it turned out, I had good reason to be needy, because my husband was fucking around.
“Unless you don’t want Sam to know we’re struggling.”
“Separating.”
“Temporarily.”
“Permanently.” I sigh as the elevator takes its time to arrive. “You can tell him if you want to. He’d let you stay here. He’d love an excuse to go to Hazel’s full time.”
Luke doesn’t say anything to that.
He doesn’t speak again until we’re in Sam’s place, and I’m turning over the laundry. “I’d rather not tell him,” he admits. He shrugs. “I don’t want to tell anyone. But if you want me to, I will.”
I roll my eyes.
Likely story. I keep telling him to leave me alone and he ignores that. Why am I letting him follow me around like a puppy?
I come to a stop, staring at the button on the dryer. Run cycle. Why am I letting Luke do this? I turn around slowly and glare at his back. He’s standing at the window in the living room, which has the most amazing view of the CN Tower.
“This is a great apartment,” Luke says without turning around. “You did a good job picking it out for him.”
“He chose it. I just helped.”
“Why haven’t you told him? I thought you would have called him.”
“About the affair?” My mouth goes dry. “I don’t know.”
Because Sam doesn’t want to know my drama anymore. Rejected by Prestons at every turn.
He finally twists on his heel and looks at me, his expression unreadable, but he shows his hand, anyway. “Because it would make this final.”
“No.”
“But yes, maybe.”
“That’s not it,” I snap.
I’ve given myself away.
“No?”
“Shut up.”
He doesn’t bite.
I’m tired and sad, and I want Luke out of my space, but I’m not ready to tell the world, either. It’s not just Sam. This is my own personal hell I’m trying to survive. I don’t need gawkers, people who mean well, caregivers, friends, fans, or foes to have any clue of what I’m struggling with.
I don’t want Caitlyn to know I’m struggling, either.
I gasp quietly.
I’m not admitting that to Luke for sure. I don’t want him to know I even know her name, have looked her up. Better that he think it’s all about his brother.
“All right, I don’t want Sam to know because it will be final then. Yes.”
“He’ll take your side.” Luke doesn’t sound upset, but it’s still hard to interpret his expression. He’s made a career of being unreadable, even when desperate.
I nod. Yes, Luke’s brother would choose me in a divorce, no question. It hurts my chest to think about. “I can’t do that to you.”
“You always wanted us to have a closer relationship than we ever did.”
“You own a firm together. You are closer than you think. And you are all the other has.”
“He has Hazel.”
“He’s all you have, then.”
The corner of Luke’s mouth pulls up, a sharp slice of misplaced optimism. “I have you.”
“No.” That boundary is so hard to maintain while I’m letting him follow me around to breakfast and this laundry errand.
As if he can read my mind, he dips his head and tries again. “As a friend, then.”
I take a deep breath. “Yes. That’s fair. I don’t like you right now, to be clear—”
“That’s clear as hell.”
I will not laugh. I cannot laugh. I bite the inside of my cheek. “But I want the best for you.” And because I’m not that altruistic, I layer in some snark. “Even if you don’t want it for yourself.”
A direct hit. Those shouldn’t give me as much pleasure as they do.
Stop hurting him.
I will. Later.
“I guess I deserve that.”
I frown. “Stop that.”
He hunches his shoulders and now he won’t look me in the eye. “You just said—”
“I’m aggrieved. I have the right. You need to be kinder to yourself.” I take another deep breath— I’m so tired of breathing deeply, calm blue oceans—and move to the door. I’ll let Sam think the sheets in the dryer are there because he did laundry. I need out of this apartment. I need to get away from Luke before I say something else kind and he takes it the wrong way.