Crushed

by Jennifer K Thomas

  He starts to respond but drops the subject when Amelia returns, carrying her gift for the party. “Let’s go, kid.”

  Amelia gives me a hug. I release her and am surprised when Grant embraces me. I haven’t had any physical contact with him in months. It feels familiar but not necessarily comfortable. Like wearing a pair of old jeans that are now too small. The hug goes on a couple of seconds too long. I want to pull away, but I’m aware Amelia is watching us.

  “Yes, well, thank you again, Grant. I really appreciate it.” I force my voice into an unnaturally high pitch, trying to sound nonchalant.

  He finally releases me and walks Amelia to his car.

  I return to the party. I can tell from the stiffness in his stance that Luke saw the whole thing. His hands are in his pockets, preventing me from taking one. His expression is hard. He keeps his attention on Aaron.

  “Luke.” I place a hand on his arm. He doesn’t react.

  “I’m going to give you two a minute.” Aaron shoots Luke a look of warning before strolling away.

  Luke sighs. “I understand the Amelia situation—I do. She is pretty amazing, by the way.” His expression softens for a moment.

  It warms my insides, remembering their earlier interaction.

  “But Grant is another issue. I don’t want to witness you being overly affectionate with your ex.” He stares at me unflinchingly.

  “Overly affectionate? That’s an exaggeration.” I place my hands on my hips.

  “I don’t see you hugging Aaron or Mr. Bianchi like that, and I better not see you hug Ryan like that. Speaking of which, I’m quickly losing patience with your ‘friend’ and his inability to keep his eyes off what’s mine.” Luke is tightly focused on me. He’s taken his hands out of his pockets, and I can see they are clenched.

  “Back up. Grant hugged me. I wasn’t expecting it, but it was only a goodbye hug.”

  “So I guess if another woman hugged me goodbye like that, you wouldn’t have a problem with it?”

  “It was a simple hug.”

  “If you say so.” He shrugs.

  “As for Ryan, I’ll have another talk with him.”

  “No, I’ll have a talk with him this time.” His tone is icy.

  “I know you’re frustrated, but remember this is a work function.”

  “Right.” Luke downs the rest of the wine from his glass. “I don’t want to fight with you. Let’s talk about this later.”

  “Fine,” I agree. “I need to run to the restroom. I’ll meet you back here.”

  My trip to the restroom takes longer than anticipated when I run into Mrs. Everett. We spend several minutes chatting before she excuses herself to find Mrs. Bianchi. When I return to the party, I scan the crowd to find Luke. He has his back to me as I join the group of people he’s with.

  “Definitely glad I don’t have to deal with that,” Luke shakes his head, and the group laughs.

  “What’s happening?” I ask, feeling left out.

  “We were watching that family over there. The little boy threw a major tantrum because his dad told him he couldn’t have a glass of the ‘special grape juice’ everyone else is drinking,” Monica says.

  “I asked if anyone thought the parents were regretting their decision not to enjoy a day alone,” Ryan adds.

  “Oh,” is all I manage to say.

  “That kid did put on quite a display.” Aaron attempts to defend Luke’s comment.

  I glare at Luke. His eyes are glassy, and I can tell he’s had too much to drink. He continues to talk to Monica about the “awful” child, oblivious to the fact that his comments are not being well received by me. Ryan, on the other hand, appears positively thrilled that Luke is displaying such an unflattering side of himself. I can’t decide who I’m more disappointed in, Luke or Ryan. Suddenly, I don’t have much of an interest in making small talk with any of these people.

  Linda joins the gathering and I’m grateful to have someone to talk to. I ask about her plans for the rest of the weekend. I’m genuinely interested, but it also distracts from the others. At some point, Luke must realize he’s had enough wine, because he switches to water. I don’t talk to him the rest of the afternoon.

  “I have to pick up Amelia,” I say after my phone finally chimes and gives me an excuse to escape.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Luke quickly offers.

  I say goodbye to Linda, Monica, and Aaron. I purposely don’t say anything to Ryan.

  I’m pressing the unlock button on my key fob when Luke finally breaks the silence.

  “Come here.” He pulls me into his chest. Tears fill my eyes, but I manage to control them. “I acted like an ass earlier. I know this situation is difficult for you too.”

  I don’t say anything, but I continue to let him hold me.

  “It’s hard for me to be around you and not show my feelings for you. It’s difficult for me to watch Ryan and Grant react to you and not be able to say anything.”

  “You can’t be jealous of every guy who looks at me.” I don’t remove my face from his chest.

  “I’m not. I overreacted about Ryan, and I’ll figure out the Grant situation. I know he has to be around, and I’ll learn to deal with it better.”

  I pull away, but he maintains a grip on my arms. His eyes thoroughly search mine.

  “We had an off day. It happens.” It’s unclear who he’s trying to convince. “I messed today up. I’m sorry. Do you want me to come over tonight?”

  “I have Amelia.” I’m sad, not because he can’t come over, but because I don’t want him to. I need some space to think.

  “I know…I just thought…” He sighs and stares at his feet. “I have to travel this week, but I can come back next weekend. We can talk and figure stuff out.”

  “Okay.”

  He kisses me on the forehead.

  “I have to go,” I say as his lips break contact.

  “I know.” The unmistakable sadness in his voice is painful.

  Chapter 18

  The remainder of the weekend is spent in mom mode. I help Amelia finish her book report on Charlotte’s Web and clean the house. It gives me the opportunity to think about Luke. We still have issues. Issues, I worry, we may not be able to overcome. I can’t be the girlfriend he wants right now. I’m not sure he can be the husband I will want later. One thing I learned from my divorce is the importance of each individual getting what they need out of a relationship. I may want another child someday. If I’m not honest about that now, it will cause problems and heartache later.

  I don’t feel any better after my marathon cleaning session, so I go for a run. I have no choice but to bring Amelia with me. She won’t make it far, but a short run may be better than nothing. She is enthusiastic for exactly one block. After that she is too tired to continue. We return home, her with complaints of sore legs and me without any sense of clarity.

  Luke is traveling to Texas this week, which supplies me with a good excuse to put off the conversation I’m not looking forward to having. We text and call throughout the week but keep the conversations light. He mentions he misses me several times. I miss him too. I begin to hope that maybe this weekend he’ll change his mind about having kids. Before I get too eager, I remind myself he’s made it clear he doesn’t want children. I need to stop ignoring what I simply don’t want to hear.

  It’s Thursday before Linda calls me out on my distractedness.

  “What’s going on with you? Did Luke do something?” She closes my office door behind her.

  “Luke’s fine. It’s me.” I sigh and slouch in my chair. “I don’t know if we want the same things.”

  “Like what?”

  “You know, life…kids. We live in different cities and have totally different lifestyles.”

  “I’m sure a change in location is not a deal-breaker for him, e
specially considering how much he travels. Does he not want kids?”

  “No.” She frowns, so I quickly clarify. “He says he pictures himself as a stepdad but doesn’t want any of his own.”

  “Oh. Well, do you want more kids?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  “So you’re this worked up without even talking to him about it?”

  “He’s been very clear about not wanting kids.” I sit up.

  “We all say lots of things we end up changing our minds about. You won’t know until you actually talk to him about it.”

  “I’m afraid,” I admit. I grab a paperclip and twist it into an unrecognizable shape.

  “Of what?”

  “That he will say something I don’t want to hear. Something that will make it clear I have to walk away.” I keep my eyes trained on my abstract art.

  “Because you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want to, but I also don’t want to be in another doomed relationship.” I set the paperclip down.

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think your relationship with Luke is doomed. I’ve often found that things like this work themselves out in unexpected ways.”

  “But sometimes they don’t. Sometimes people end up heartbroken. I worry about going through that again.”

  “Talk to him. Once you tell him what you’re worrying about, he may surprise you. And if he doesn’t, then you can move on, knowing you have all the information.”

  “I plan on talking to him this weekend. He has a meeting Friday night, so I won’t see him until Saturday.”

  “Everything works out how it’s supposed to.”

  “I know, but I’m worried I’m not mentally prepared for what’s supposed to be.”

  She returns to her desk, and I attempt to get some work done. I haven’t been the most productive at work this week, so unless I want to take reports home with me, I need to force myself to focus. I’m in the middle of running a revised set of financial statements for October when my cell rings.

  It’s Grant. The hug at the groundbreaking ceremony was awkward, but overall I believe our relationship is moving toward a successful co-parenting situation.

  “Grant.” Reports spit out of my printer.

  “Hi Jessica. My mom asked if it’s okay for Amelia to spend the night at her house tomorrow—”

  “Of course. It’s your weekend. You don’t have to get my approval for Amelia to spend time with her grandparents,” I snap.

  “Bad day?”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He pauses. I tap a pencil on my desk, waiting for him to continue. “What I wanted to know is…I thought it might be a good opportunity for us to get together. Tomorrow night, while Amelia is with my parents.” He takes a deep breath before finishing. “Will you meet me for dinner?”

  “I was about to make plans.” I cringe. It’s only a half-lie. I was considering calling Vivien and Emily to see if either of them are free.

  “So that means you don’t have plans yet?” he presses.

  “I guess not.”

  “Great. We need to talk. It’s important.”

  My mind instantly jumps to our daughter. “Does it have to do with Amelia?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s wrong?” My heart races at the mere thought of getting bad news about her.

  “Not like that. Nothing’s wrong with Amelia. I just want to discuss some things with you.”

  My heart beats normally again. If the ineptitude of this phone call is any indication of how tomorrow’s dinner is going to go, I’m sure I’ll be home early. “All right, I can meet you tomorrow after work.”

  “Let’s meet at Palumbo’s at six.”

  “Sounds good. Thanks for asking where I want to go.” I mumble the last part.

  “What?” Grant either didn’t hear what I said or is pretending he didn’t.

  “Nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  I call Luke during the drive home from work. I know he won’t be happy about it, but I need to tell him about my dinner with Grant. He answers his phone after only one ring. “You still at the office?”

  “For another hour or so. We have one more interview to conduct, then Aaron and I are going to play racquetball.”

  “Interview?”

  “After the debacle in Texas, Aaron and I are considering bringing in another partner. Another set of eyes to review contracts and handle the workload.” Luke’s meeting with their troubled investment was a mild success. He was able to work out a deal that, while not yielding the financial gain they hoped for, was fair and would keep them out of litigation.

  “That’s exciting.”

  “It is.”

  “I’m afraid what I’m about to say isn’t going to put you in a very good mood.”

  “Okay,” he says warily.

  “I’m meeting Grant for dinner tomorrow night.” I spit the words out quickly, hoping that will somehow soften their impact.

  “Was this family dinner his idea?”

  “Not a family dinner. Just the two of us.” I take a calming breath. “He wants to talk.”

  He doesn’t say anything for what seems like a long time. It has probably only been several seconds, but his silence is more unbearable than anything he could say to me right now.

  “Luke?”

  “I’m not sure what you expect me to say.” I picture him running his hand through his hair.

  “We have a child together. He does have to be a part of my life to some degree.”

  “I don’t see you two meeting for dinner as necessary.”

  “It’s not like I’m excited about it. He said he needs to discuss some important business. It’s probably about the house.” I listen to him breathe for a few seconds. We both know a discussion about the house wouldn’t require meeting in person.

  “Honestly, you’re putting me in a bad position. I’m either the jealous asshole boyfriend who is making this situation harder, or I’m the idiot who says I’m fine with you having dinner with your ex.”

  “I can’t win either way. I feel bad no matter what I do.” I can’t think of anything to say to make either of us feel better about it, so I change the subject. “Are you still coming over this weekend?”

  “I have that meeting in Irvine tomorrow night. I was planning on coming to your house Saturday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Can you do me one favor?”

  “Maybe?” I attempt to sound playful, hoping he is about to make one of the comments that make me blush.

  “Don’t wear anything blue.”

  “Why?”

  “You look amazing in blue. Don’t waste it on him.”

  “No blue,” I agree. “I’ll stick to black.”

  “That doesn’t really help. You look great in black too.”

  “Would you like to pick out my outfit then?” I offer one last-ditch attempt to bring out his naughty side.

  “You’re capable of choosing.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow night, after I get home.” I don’t know what else I can say to ease his discomfort.

  I arrive for dinner ten minutes early and am surprised to see Grant has beaten me here. When we were together, he always seemed to get stuck with a patient or something else more important. There were many nights I sat and waited in restaurants for him. I figured tonight would be a reminder of those times.

  He sees me, smiles, and stands. He looks like he can’t decide whether he should give me a hug or not. Thankfully, he doesn’t. We slide into the booth. I pretend to check my phone for missed calls or texts. I look around the crowded restaurant—everywhere except at the man I should know better than anyone. He feels like a stranger.<
br />
  I can’t watch the room all night, so I brave a view of the table. Grant has already ordered a bottle of Chianti. Not my favorite, but I would drink a glass of almost anything right now to take the edge off.

  We busy ourselves reading the menu even though we always get the same thing here. The waiter appears. We both order the jalapeno cream chicken.

  “This place looks the same as it did when we first started coming here.” Grant takes a sip of wine.

  “Yep. Some places stand the test of time,” I agree.

  “Some relationships do too.” He peers over the top of his glass at me.

  My eyes grow wide, and I can practically taste the bile rising in my throat. “Grant, get it over with so I can pretend to be happy for you and go home.”

  “What? Oh no, I’m not talking about Stephanie and me.” He drinks more wine. “I was talking about us.”

  “I don’t think that’s an appropriate sentiment for a divorced couple.” I press my lips tightly together.

  “Not divorced yet,” he reminds me.

  “Where are you going with this?” I place my folded hands on the table. I’m already tired of whatever game we’re playing.

  “Hear me out.” He always starts this way when he’s about to say something I won’t like or agree with. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you the last several weeks.”

  “I’m not sure Stephanie would love to hear that.” I’m instantly embarrassed it sounds like I care.

  “We ended things a couple weeks ago.” He waves, as if to dismiss their relationship as inconsequential.

  I wonder if he waves like that when he talks about our marriage. “Oh.” I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.

  “I didn’t come to talk about her. I would like to talk about us.” He clears his throat. “We never talked much about our breakup.”

  “Once you admitted to the affair, there wasn’t a lot left to say.” I fidget with the clasp on my bracelet.

  “I thought we would at least talk. I was shocked when you left and didn’t even ask why I did it.”

  “I have no interest in hearing what another woman gave you that I couldn’t.” I glare at him, and he flinches.