Good at Being Alive(92)

He returns to the house looking no happier than he did when he left. “I’ve got to get back to London,” he says. “I’m so sorry. There are just some things there that can’t wait.”

I nod, striving to be the girl I’ve been all along, the one who doesn’t care what he’s hiding, who isn’t expecting him to stick around. There’s this ache in my chest that suggests I’m not that girl any longer. “Okay. When do you leave?”

He glances back at his phone. “I’m trying to get a flight out today. I’m sorry…can you give me a few minutes to see if I can make it work?”

He’s already back on his laptop, clearly relieved to be rid of me before I’ve even left the room. The feeling is familiar—it’s how Jessie looked every single time I was heading back to school. It’s probably how my mother looked too, pushing me on the swings while plotting a new life without me.

I remain out on the pool deck in my pajamas, watching the sun rise over the horizon, so sick to my stomach that nothing on my phone can distract me. What the hell has gone wrong and how did I not have a clue it was coming?

When I return, Theo is dressed and shoving clothes into his bag.

He glances at me, his jaw tight. “I was able to get on a nonstop, but I’ve got to hurry. I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, my voice entirely flat. “Work comes first.”

He swallows, hesitating. I wait for him to admit it’s not work he’s returning for, and he doesn’t. Maybe a healthier person would take this moment to ask him where things stand. To tell him where I stand. To say, I think I’m falling in love with you. I need to know if this is what you want.

Instead, I hold every one of those thoughts inside me and walk him out to the waiting cab. Lars and Katrina come down the street to join us—Theo must have texted Lars to let him know, though I’m not sure how Katrina heard…unless they were together. “We’ll see you in Maplewood,” Lars says, with a hand on Theo’s forearm.

Theo thanks him and then glances at me. “I’ll talk to you soon,” he says.

I nod, and he hoists his bag higher on his shoulder. He’s about to turn for the car but at the last minute steps forward, pulling me against him. “I’ll call when I get in,” he says quietly. It would be entirely sufficient if there wasn’t uncertainty in his voice too—as if he’s not sure he means it.

“Okay,” I whisper, taking in one last hit of him—minty breath, that soap he always uses. He releases me and then he’s off, in a car that disappears over the hill before I even have time to wave goodbye.

What are you not telling me, Theo? Because this seemed like an ending.

Maybe it was.

Three hours later I head out to the Valley of the Nuns for our final day of shooting. It’s gloriously green—surrounded on all sides by sky-high volcanic cliffs. A beautiful place that I’m absolutely miserable in.

Everyone keeps saying how much it sucks that Theo is missing this…and I agree, but not for the reasons they think. It sucks because he chose to leave. It sucks because there’s so much he hasn’t told me…and if he’s still being this evasive with me now, it’s hard to imagine I’m not fooling myself into believing there’s more between us than there is.

I slide down waterfalls, I rappel, I jump off a cliff. My body aches from yesterday’s run but the pain is almost inconsequential next to my anxiety about Theo. I’ve been telling myself since this started with him simply to enjoy it while it lasted. But I’ve been leaning on him, even before we were together, in ways I never realized until this moment and I want to take every one of them back.

I rappel down one last waterfall and Lars positions me on the river’s edge afterward to pepper me with questions, on camera.

“How was it today?” he asks.

“It was great,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“Complete sentences, Bex,” he reminds me—they want, as much as possible, to keep their voices out of this.

“Today was great,” I say woodenly. “I loved the rappelling.”

“You don’t seem happy,” he says. “Is that because of Theo?”

Internally I groan. He’s trying to get me to say something that indicates an issue in our marriage. It frustrates me more than normal because this time…there is an issue.

“It was disappointing that Theo had to leave for work early,” I say, my voice flat. “I think he’d have enjoyed this.”

“Bex,” Lars groans, “you sound like a CEO talking about a merger that went poorly. This is your husband. You flew thirteen hours for this trip only to have him take off early and miss the best day. Where’s the emotion? Where’s the sadness or the rage?”

“Is that how you’re planning to edit this?” I ask, my voice rough. I narrow my eyes at LJ, my signal to stop rolling, but he ignores me. “Are you planning to make it look like I got left again?”

“Is that how you perceive this?” he asks. “Do you feel like Theo left you?”

“He didn’t leave me. He was always meant to be Bronwyn’s anyway.”

God. I can’t believe I said that. “Stop filming,” I demand, wiping my eyes as I turn toward the van.