Chương 8
“Yes.”
He stared at her.
She almost smiled.
“I actually do.”
He looked away.
For the first time since she had known him, Adrian seemed unable to organize himself.
It should have felt satisfying.
It did not.
“I met you when Claire and I were barely speaking,” he said.
“She had just miscarried.”
His eyes flicked toward her.
“So you’ve talked.”
“Yes.”
He nodded slowly.
“I was a wreck too.”
“You weren’t the patient.”
“I know.”
“Go on.”
“I didn’t plan any of this.”
“That’s a sentence people use when they want planning to be the only kind of guilt.”
He looked at her.
She waited.
“I met you,” he said. “I liked you. I thought it would be temporary.”
“Why?”
“Because I was married.”
“Interesting.”
He winced.
“I know.”
“No, keep going.”
“We were together a few times. Then I tried to end it.”
Evelyn frowned.
“When?”
“The summer after we met.”
She remembered.
Adrian had gone strangely quiet for ten days.
He had said work was bad.
Then he appeared at her apartment with Thai food and apologized for withdrawing.
She had thought it was emotionally mature.
“What happened?”
“I missed you.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“That’s your explanation?”
“No.”
“It sounds like one.”
“I was unhappy at home.”
“So you came back.”
“Yes.”
“And Claire?”
“She was grieving. Angry. I was angry.”
“At her?”
“At everything.”
“What did she do?”
“Nothing.”
The answer came quickly.
Evelyn sat back.
Adrian looked at his hands again.
“I told myself the marriage was already over.”
“But you didn’t tell her.”
“No.”
“You didn’t leave.”
“No.”
“You tried for another baby.”
His face changed.
“That was complicated.”
“I’m sure.”
“Claire wanted a child.”
“She says you did.”
“I did too.”
Evelyn pressed her palms flat on the table.
“While you were dating me.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“For two years?”
“I compartmentalized.”
“That’s a very elegant word.”
“I’m not trying to make it elegant.”
“What did you tell yourself about me?”
He looked up.
“That I loved you.”
Evelyn’s throat tightened.
She hated him for making the sentence hurt.
“And Claire?”
“I loved her too.”
There it was.
Not a mastermind.
Not a secret sociopath explaining a grand plan.
A weak man who believed wanting two incompatible things entitled him to delay choosing until everyone else absorbed the cost.
Evelyn stood and walked to the window.
Traffic moved below.
A delivery cyclist shouted at a taxi.
Behind her, Adrian said, “I kept thinking there would be a right time.”
“For what?”
“To end things with Claire.”
“She was pregnant.”
“I know.”
“You proposed to me before that.”
“I know.”
“You told your family Claire knew.”
“Yes.”
“You told Claire I was a client.”
“Yes.”
“You told me you had never been married.”
“Yes.”
“You gave me her ring.”
Silence.
Evelyn turned.
Adrian looked genuinely ashamed.
“Why?”
“She wasn’t wearing it.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It was in my desk.”
“Why?”
“Her hands swelled during pregnancy. She took it off.”
“And gave it to you?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To have it resized later.”
Evelyn stared at him.
He looked smaller now.
Not physically.
Morally.
“What did you tell yourself when you put it on my finger?”
His eyes filled.
“I don’t know.”
“That I would never find out?”
“No.”
“That Claire wouldn’t?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I wasn’t thinking about Claire.”
The answer landed with terrible clarity.
Evelyn nodded.
“That’s the first honest thing you’ve said.”
He stood.
“Evelyn.”
She stepped back.
He stopped immediately.
“I did love you.”
“Don’t.”
“I need you to know that.”
“No. You need to know that.”
He stared at her.
She felt her own eyes burn.
“Because if you loved me, then you’re a man who did terrible things while loving someone. That lets you keep some version of yourself.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yes, it is.”
He sat again.
The fight went out of him.
After a moment, he said, “What do you want me to do?”
Evelyn almost answered.
Then she understood the question.
He had always solved things.
Flights.
Bills.
Reservations.
Apologies.
Now he wanted her to give him the task that would convert catastrophe into a problem with steps.
She refused.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want me out of the apartment?”
“Yes.”
“I can stay at Caleb’s.”
“Caleb doesn’t want you.”
His mouth tightened.
“My sister, then.”
“Figure it out.”
“Okay.”
“And give Claire whatever she needs.”
“I am.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“She says you haven’t been back to the hospital.”
Adrian looked away.
Evelyn stared at him.
“Why?”
“She told me not to come.”
“And?”
“I’m respecting that.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You’re relieved.”
His expression changed.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me what I feel.”
“You’re right.”
She nodded.
“That wasn’t fair.”
The apology surprised both of them.
Adrian looked down.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
“I don’t know how to talk to you.”
“Good.”
He packed two suitcases.
Evelyn did not help.
He left behind half his clothes, a watch, three books, running shoes, chargers, and a framed photograph of the two of them in Maine.
At the door, he stopped.
“What happens now?”
Evelyn looked at him.
“To which marriage?”
He flinched.
She regretted the line the moment she said it.
Not because he did not deserve cruelty.
Because she did not like how easily cruelty fit in her mouth.
“I don’t know,” she said.
Adrian nodded.
Then he left.
Claire went home with Owen the next morning.
Her sister, Megan, stayed with her.
For four days Evelyn heard nothing.
She tried not to think about it.
She returned to work.
Her colleagues attempted normal behavior with such determination that the result was bizarre.
No one mentioned the wedding.
Everyone asked about her weekend.
On Tuesday morning, a junior designer named Luis walked into Evelyn’s office and said, “I hope you had a relaxing—”
He stopped.
His face went white.
Evelyn looked at him.
Luis closed his eyes.
“Oh no.”
“It’s okay.”
May you like
“I forgot.”
“That is an incredible thing to forget.”
