Teach Me Something (Something Series Book 4)

by Aubrey Bondurant

  He shook his head. “I. I will figure something else out.”

  I took a deep breath and thought this, right here, would be the reason we failed as a couple. Because I wanted a partner for better or worse. Not someone who shut me out the moment things got tough and tried to bear the burden alone. “Why is it so important for you to do this on your own?”

  “It just is.” He offered no further explanation, instead walking out into my living room where I found him staring out the window at the city nightscape.

  When I joined him, he took my hand and curled me into him on my sofa. Although he was holding me, I’d never felt less connected to him.

  Maybe if he wouldn’t take help from me, he would consider it from someone else. “What if you spoke with Josh, or better yet, Bart could know of—”

  He leaned back, his temper snapping. “No. Absolutely not.”

  “Do you know that I wouldn’t have received my start at Cosmo Life if it wasn’t for a mentor of mine? While I was interning during college at a Fashion Week, she called in a favor and got me the interview at the magazine because she wished to give me a chance.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Why won’t you consider my help?” For someone who seemingly wanted a future with me, he was discounting both my assistance and my support, acting as thought we weren’t in this together.

  “To do what? Write me a check? Is that your answer for everything? Or were you planning to call in a favor to get your boy toy a job?”

  My eyes narrowed. He was hurting and therefore lashing out, but I didn’t deserve it. I stood up, needing my robe. Being naked while fighting left me feeling vulnerable. “You insult both of us by implying I’ve ever treated you that way. If you’ve been thinking this way the whole time, then we were done before we even began.”

  His anger evaporated just as rapidly as it had ignited, and he followed me back down the hall to my bedroom. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are,” I said quietly, slipping on my robe.

  Will didn’t apologize unless he meant it, but this was bigger than his comment.

  “But…?” he prompted, evidently sensing I was holding something back.

  I turned towards him. “But a couple consists of partners, two people who share both the good and the bad. It wasn’t like I was planning to get you a job or give you money, Will. I was only going to suggest calling around to see who might be holding auditions. You want to be there for me, but in turn won’t reciprocate and let me in. Instead, you resent any advice or support I try to give you.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes reflecting sadness. “You’re right. And what I said was completely uncalled for.” He sat down on the bed, sighing heavily. “I’m leaving on Sunday.”

  “For what?”

  “To take the counselor job at the facility where Thomas lives in Australia. Besides a salary, I get a discount on his care. Thirty percent the first year I work and up to fifty percent the longer I stay. And I’ll still have the Calvin Klein contract and possibly some local modelling jobs out of Sydney.”

  I tried to keep my voice calmer than I was feeling with the shocking news. “When did you decide all this?”

  “After the club first suggested I step up my services last year and, coincidentally, Thomas’s rehab center offered me a job, it became my contingency plan. I called the center yesterday, and they made me an offer.”

  “So all along you knew you were moving to Australia if the contract in LA didn’t work out?”

  He nodded, looking guilty.

  “Was this breakup sex tonight?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “You didn’t mean not to tell me about your plan to move to the other side of the world if you didn’t get the Claus contract. Or mention it as a possibility while I was down in Miami telling you I loved you. Or before you were deep inside of me tonight? What were you going to do: leave a note, text me that you weren’t coming back?”

  “I was planning to tell you tonight. And I don’t want moving to Australia to be my only option. But for the moment, it is.”

  My frustration with him hit a breaking point. “It’s not, though. Can’t you see that? I respect you for working hard. Although I’m not sure I fully understand why you need to be the only one responsible for paying for Thomas’s care, I even respect that you would bear the burden. But what I don’t understand is you cutting off all other options simply because of your pride. You have a ton of friends and colleagues who’d move mountains to help you get auditions or interviews if you simply tell them you’re looking for work. You’re not asking for a handout, only a chance.”

  “I don’t want that.”

  “But why? Give me a reason here, Will.”

  For a moment I thought he’d open up to me, but instead the walls came down.

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest. Selfishly, I’d not only hoped it would work out, and I wouldn’t have to tell you at all, but I wanted to spend any time I had left with you. I’ll still plan on coming back for the charity show in January. You should know—” He paused as if the words were difficult to get out. “That I’ve never felt this way about a woman before you. I only hope you understand I hate this as much as you do, if not more because it’s my fault.”

  A tear broke free in spite of my best effort. Although part of me wanted to be angry with him for not telling me until now, sadness was overriding all my other emotions. I couldn’t stand the thought of him walking out of my life permanently.

  “What if you give it a couple weeks to explore more options before you make this decision?” It seemed like everything was happening in fast forward; maybe a few extra days would give him some other alternatives.

  He was already shaking his head while getting dressed. I clamped down on the urge to argue with him as I wasn’t about to act desperate to keep him. It wouldn’t make a difference, and my self-respect wouldn’t allow it.

  “I can’t,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Two simple words had never sounded more devastating. Emotion clogged my throat and I knew I was moments away from breaking down, but I refused to let him see it. “So this is it, then?”

  He finished putting on his shoes and grabbed his bag. “I’m sorry. Walking away from you is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  He leaned over, kissing my cheek before leaving.

  I swallowed the words until I heard the front door click shut: “Then don’t.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  It wasn’t until I stood under the warm water beating down from the shower an hour after Will had left that I let the tears really flow. What was it about a shower and crying that seemed to go together?

  After drying myself off and slipping on pajamas, I sat on my bed and stared at the wall. I refused to start down the beckoning rabbit hole of self-doubt and insecurity.

  This was not about me.

  This was not about me.

  That sentence, although simple, bore repeating until I absolutely believed it. Will choosing to move away wasn’t because I’d been too boring, too wrapped up in my career, or because I should’ve done things differently. This wasn’t about me any more than my divorce had been about me.

  I was imperfect, at best. But on the other side of a failed marriage and with hindsight as my ally, I was done shouldering the insecurity that I hadn’t been good enough to hold onto a man. I knew this was true despite watching Will walk out in a cruel rehash of an old scene.

  Two years ago, I’d been devastated and completely caught off guard. This time, although it hurt like hell, I knew I’d ultimately weather the storm. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually. I’d learned I was stronger than I’d ever given myself credit for. So for right now I might feel like my heart was aching, I might be disappointed about those things I couldn’t control, but at the end of it, I could at least say I didn’t have any regrets about the relationship itself.

  I didn’t even regret making myself vulnerabl
e and putting it all out there in Miami. As much as I was frustrated that Will hadn’t confided his contingency plan to me all along, I knew it was because he’d been waiting for a miracle before he made his final decision. I only wished I could offer that miracle and not have him resent me for it.

  Unfortunately, sleep was elusive after I crawled into bed after midnight. I kept coming back to one question I wished he would’ve answered: why was he so hell bent on refusing help?

  My cell phone cut through my thoughts about a half hour later as I was still tossing and turning. Rolling over, I grabbed it and hit talk when I saw Will’s name illuminated on the screen.

  “Hello.”

  “Did I wake you?”

  Although it was tough to tell on the phone, I swore I could hear an unfamiliar slur to Will’s words. I’d never known him to drink much, let alone get intoxicated. “No. I was still up. Where are you?”

  “At my place.”

  At least he was safe even if it was a mattress on the floor. “Everything all right?”

  “No, it’s not. I told myself I wouldn’t call you. That I’d walk away and leave you to live your life with a guy who can give you those things from your list.”

  Sighing, I cursed that stupid list. I then slipped back into my old habit of assumption. “Meaning you don’t want the same type of commitment I do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The part about wanting to settle down and—”

  He interrupted. “It’s not that. More like making more money or being established in my career—”

  Now it was my turn to interject. “For the record I never said I wanted someone who made more money. I said I wanted someone financially independent. Meaning they’re secure enough in themselves not to compete or resent my success. And as for the career thing, I want to be with someone passionate about what they do regardless of money. So maybe I didn’t articulate my list then the way I would now, but Will you are everything I could ever want.”

  “But you still deserve more than I could ever give you.”

  “Not possible.” But then his words turned on a lightbulb of awareness. “Is that why you won’t let people help you? You don’t think you deserve it?” I could tell I’d hit a chord with the way he cursed under his breath.

  I was met with silence, so I pressed on, feeling I was on to something. More than anything, I needed to understand. “Is it the guilt over your father taking you with him to LA and leaving your mother and Thomas?”

  He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this.”

  Feeling my frustration bubble up, I sat up in bed and was blunt. “No. You won’t do this. And there’s a difference in those two statements. You can’t implies there aren’t any other options. You won’t means you refuse to take them.”

  “Cath, you don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. And although I’ve asked you to explain it to me, you won’t. Are you sensing the theme here, Will?”

  He was so quiet on the other end that for a moment I thought he’d hung up. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell me why you don’t think you deserve to accept anyone’s help. Please.”

  It took a minute before he began talking, his voice quiet and tortured. “When my Dad left, my mum had nothing. Not even a job because caring for Thomas was a full time one in and of itself. So she had no way of supporting herself. She had to go on the US equivalent of food stamps and sell the house, moving them both into an apartment. I’m not sure if they would’ve made it if it wasn’t for my stepfather coming along when he did. He moved them in and took care of things financially, but that was after two years of suffering on their own.”

  He paused, and I had to keep myself from judging his mother for having shared this information with her son. She knew he’d had absolutely no choice at age ten, either to help her or to control his father’s actions.

  “My dad in the meantime started a successful business, took us on vacations, and bought me a car when I turned sixteen. It wasn’t until I traveled back to Australia for a few weeks over the summer when I was a teenager that I realized what my mother was sacrificing for Thomas and his care. That’s when I grasped what my father had done.”

  “Because your mother told you all this?”

  “Yes. She wanted me to understand why she was still angry with him.”

  “That’s why you decided to return to Australia and go to college in Sydney?”

  “Yeah. I told my dad I didn’t want his money and funded it through loans and working part time. How could I possibly accept anything more from him, knowing he’d abandoned his duties to the other part of his family?”

  So not only did Will feel guilty, he was also out to prove something.

  “Did you ever ask him why he didn’t offer assistance?”

  “Does it matter? He disappeared out of their lives completely, taking me with him. And despite him offering to pay something now, it doesn’t make up for it.”

  “I’d say it does matter very much. In fact, if you flip your argument around, I’d go so far to say that he owes your brother. With or without Thomas’s disabilities, your father didn’t meet his responsibility towards him. I’m sure there’s a great deal of pride in telling him to shove his money up his ass, but I think you’re letting him off the hook at your own expense.”

  “My mother is adamant against accepting his help.”

  I remembered walking in on their argument too well. “I know this is going to sound harsh, but as the person who isn’t paying, why does she have the decision-making power? This is affecting your life, Will. You warrant having some say in it. Plus, no offense to your mom, but there are always two sides. Talk to your dad and ask him what happened.”

  He was quiet. I’d probably said more than I should have, but if I were in for a penny, I might as well be in for a pound.

  “I see you shouldering a burden out of guilt and misplaced obligation to make up for a decision that was made by others when you were ten years old. In you not asking for help or accepting that people want to support you because you don’t think you deserve it, you’re doing a disservice to yourself and to those individuals around you. Doing things for people you care about feels good. It especially feels good for people to do something for someone who is constantly sacrificing for others. It’s like you’re punishing yourself. I know I’m probably overstepping in saying all of this to you, but please understand I’m doing it because I love you, if that counts for anything.”

  “It counts for everything. And I love you too, Cath. So fucking much.”

  I closed my eyes, absorbing his words and trying to quell the threatening sob over the unfairness of it all. We felt so strongly about each other, and yet it still wasn’t working.

  “I’m sorry I called you so late.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’m not. It’s the first time you’ve opened up to me.”

  “You aren’t wrong, you know. I do have a ton of guilt and trouble accepting help because of it. I don’t know; it’s like I don’t feel worthy, as I’m sure any shrink would say.”

  For the very first time I had a spark of optimism. If Will realized his problem, there might be some hope he could address it. “You deserve good things in your life, Will. Whether it includes me or not, I hope someday you’ll believe that.”

  After a couple minutes of silence, his breathing was the only thing proving he was still on the line. Frankly, I had no idea how much he’d remember tomorrow if he was, in fact, too drunk for my words to sink in. But it did mean a lot that he’d finally revealed his deep-rooted reason for his actions.

  “I should go,” he said finally.

  “All right. I’ll let you go then.”

  “Bye Cath.”

  The call disconnected about the same time my heart broke.

  ***

  I barely slept after Will’s call. I wished that he’d consider a different course of action or at least think about what I’d sa
id. But given that he’d been drinking, I had no way of knowing if he’d even remember the conversation today.

  By the time afternoon rolled around, I decided at least to shower and put on some clothes. But I had the intention of doing absolutely nothing with the rest of that Saturday until I realized I hadn’t eaten since the day before. The beauty of living in Manhattan was you could order pretty much anything to be delivered. In my case, this included an entire cheesecake, which later that evening sat half eaten on my countertop.

  There was a part of me that hoped Will would come by on his final night, but then again, I wasn’t sure I had it in me to watch him leave again.

  The sound of my intercom buzzing from the front desk surprised me. But not as much as the name of the person who’d come to see me.

  “Ms. Davenport, I have a Mr. Josh Singer here to see you.”

  “Uh. Okay, send him up please.”

  Considering Josh had never done more than meet me in my lobby, even when we used to attend functions together years ago, I was completely shocked he’d be here now—and would ask to come up.

  I was in sweats, without makeup, my hair back in a low pony tail, and with a half-eaten cheesecake sitting unapologetically on my countertop. It was ironic how time and perspective had changed me. Today I didn’t give a crap that the man I’d once had a crush on was seeing me this way.

  Josh’s arched brow when I opened the door, making it obvious he was taken aback to see me looking this way as well. He didn’t beat around the bush. “You okay?”

  “Is that your way of asking why I look like shit?”

  He chuckled while following me inside. “I’m not touching that question.”

  “Smart man. What brings you by?”

  He studied me as I turned to face him. “Will came over for dinner tonight. Matter of fact, he’s still with Haylee and Abby right now.”

  “That’s nice.” I wasn’t so much concerned about keeping our relationship a secret as I was curious about what Josh was fishing for.

  “Haylee is pretty upset he’s moving to Australia.”