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“For not walking away sooner before we both got in this deep.” She pauses before taking another breath. “I’m going to request to stay here for the full year.”
I think about the fact that I won’t see her for twelve months if I don’t go out there. It has only been a month and I already miss her like she’s been gone for years. My body has been tense and every time my phone beeps my heart squeezes in hope that it’s a message from her. If this is over, that means she wants at least twelve months of no contact.
“We can’t talk at all?” I ask her even though I already know the answer.
“What’s the point?”
“Because I love you?” I answer immediately because that seems like the only reason that should matter. She doesn’t respond so I ask the question I’ve been wanting to know. “Do you love me?”
“I don’t think it’s fair for you to ask me that.”
I hear the implication but the fact that she doesn’t say it makes me feel like she never will. “One year, Marissa. I’m not letting you stay there longer than that. If I have to come out there and get you, I will.”
“Please don’t come for me until there’s no longer a ring on your finger.”
By no surprise, I haven’t been able to get in touch with Holly for the past two days and I feel like I am ready to explode by the time I pull up to my house. She’s due home in an hour and I want to be here so she can’t avoid talking to me for another second. I walk through my house, brimming with anger as I think about the shitstorm that’s become my life. I don’t know how long I’ve been pacing when the front door opens and I hear Holly on the phone. Based on her bubbly tone, it sounds like one of her friends and when she sees me in the foyer she gasps. “Oh my god, let me call you back. There’s a situation at my house,” she says before she hangs up. She tosses her keys on a nearby table and pulls off her wide-brimmed hat.
“Christopher,” she says the word like it disgusts her. “I’m sorry, don’t you not live here?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Where have you been?” I nod at her.
“Out.” She meets my gaze and offers a shrug but her face remains impassive.
I walk towards her. “Of the country? So, I heard. I’ve locked your credit card by the way.”
Her eyes widen and she gives me a confused look. “Excuse me?”
“As of about five minutes ago. I wanted to make sure you could at least get home.” I shrug. “But for the time being, you are not able to use your cards. Either of them.”
“You’re insane.” She pulls up her phone and while she’s trying to appear dismissive, I can hear the panic in her tone.
“For putting up with your shit as long as I have? Yes. Definitely.”
She glares at me. “Oh, this means you must have talked to your girlfriend. Did she tell you that we had a nice cup of coffee? Lovely girl.” She looks at her nails. “For a whore and all.”
I ball my hands into fists to try and temper my rage. “Call her a whore one more time, Holly, I swear to God. Why would you go out there?”
“Because you were not listening. You were still talking to her after I told you to end it with her. So, I thought I’d have better luck getting through to her. Which I guess worked if you’re here and you cut off my credit cards. I guess that means she cut you off then?”
“What did I say I was going to do if you breathed in her direction? Access to my money is the only thing you give a shit about so it seems like the only way to get my point across.”
She shrugs and I’m surprised at her cavalier attitude to not being able to blow through my money. “Fine. Does this mean you’ll give counseling an actual effort now?”
I snort. “Did you think scaring Marissa off would make me want to be with you? You couldn’t have seriously thought that. She didn’t cause the problems in our marriage.”
“No, I suspect you think I did that all on my own.”
I want to tell her that she certainly jump-started everything but I am trying to keep things from getting out of hand and turning into a screaming match. “I know I didn’t help.”
“And counseling will.”
“Do you really think going to counseling will just magically fix everything? We don’t work, Holly. I want a divorce.”
She stares at me for a second. “What is so special about this girl anyway?”
“I love her,” I tell her honestly. “And maybe that makes me an asshole for saying that to you but it’s been obvious for years that you’re not in love with me, and…”
“You think she is?” She snorts. “She’s not.” I grit my teeth in annoyance because while I know I have to take anything she says with a grain of salt, I also know Marissa hasn’t said it. “She’s young and you’re rich,” she spits out, and that nagging insecurity that I’m nothing but a large bank account with a dick attached flares up.
