揑抦 gonna have a ton of work to catch棓 I begin, and then I see how much he wants me to just say, 搚es? how much he wants me to just be in this thing with both feet. I bite the inside of my cheek. 揥here would we go??
His face settles into the kind of relieved smile you get at the end of a race you抳e spent ages training for. 揊iji. An overwater villa. Clothing optional.?
I had something like that on my Pinterest travel page once upon a time. I think of all the things I once pinned: the trips I wanted to take, the books I wanted to read, the home I wanted to build. It抯 a revelation, discovering I still want those things badly, that they抮e not something I抳e entirely left behind. Maybe future Gemma isn抰 an impossibility. Maybe, in a small way, she抯 already here.
揥e can抰 have sex the entire time,?I warn, as if I would ever complain if that was the case.
He leans across the table and presses his lips to my forehead. 揧ou can bring as many books as you want.?
Three nights before the depositions begin, I stay at the office while Ben has dinner with Fields. He was tense when he left, but wouldn抰 tell me why.
I抦 yawning, waiting for him. When my eyes can抰 stop falling closed, I text.
Me: I抣l meet you at the apartment.
Ben: I抦 exhausted. Have to be in early tomorrow, so I think I抣l just head home.
Exhaustion has never stopped him from staying at my place before. I want to suggest I can come to him. To say, 搒ince I know for a fact your house is done? but I don抰。 I don抰 say a word. Is this progress, the way I抦 trying not to jump to conclusions? Or am I silencing a warning voice I should be listening to, just like I did before?
The next morning, his face is strained when I walk into his office. He looks like he抯 barely slept.
揌ow was last night??I ask.
He rubs the back of his neck. 揑t was fine. Just a little difference of opinion.?
I raise a brow, meaning, 搕ell me what happened.?
He raises one back, meaning, 搚ou know I can抰 do that.?
I come around to his side of the desk. The door is open so I can抰 touch him, but I抦 drawn toward him like a magnet anyway. 揑 was thinking,?I venture tentatively, 搕hat if we抮e going away together for a real vacation, then we probably need to go to HR.?
I expect him to be pleased梙e was the first one to mention it, after all梑ut a shadow comes over his face, a wariness flickering in his eyes.
揝ure,?he says, sounding anything but. 揕et抯 just wait until the Lawson case is done.?
It would take us ten minutes at most to go to HR and get the paperwork signed. Two days ago, he was talking about a week away in Fiji, and now it抯 like he doesn抰 even want to be in the same room with me.
I抎 like to be the version of me that no longer jumps to conclusions, who doesn抰 assume the worst, but I抦 struggling right now. It feels like whatever was discussed with Fields has changed everything.
I take a deep breath. 揑s something wrong??I hate how weak, how vulnerable, it makes me feel, needing to ask.
His teeth sink into his lower lip before he shakes his head. 揓ust tired. Between this case and the class-action, I抦 beat.?
We work late and return to my apartment. He falls asleep while I抦 brushing my teeth, but when I wake in the middle of the night, he抯 pulling me close, and there抯 a tension in his grip that suggests he抯 been up for a while.
揂re you okay??I whisper, rolling to face him.
揝orry,?he says. 揑 didn抰 mean to wake you.?
I pull him on top of me. I know if I ask, he抣l tell me he抯 fine, though he抯 clearly not, and all I can do for him now is this.
He moves inside me, slowly and silently, coming with a single sharp gasp, his mouth buried in my neck, and for a moment it feels like we抮e okay again.
He collapses beside me梙is head on my pillow, his palm curving over my hip.
揂re you sure you don抰 want to talk??I whisper. 揑 can tell something抯 bothering you.?
He moves to his own pillow and rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
揥hat happened at Stadler??he finally asks.
I stiffen. I抎 expected him to ask about Stadler again, but not like this. And not like he already knows. 揥ho told you about that??
揊ields said something last night. That you stalked someone there.?
My stomach drops. It hurts so much to hear him bring this up to me, to know that same fucking story is still circulating. I sit up with the sheet held to my chest. 揂nd you believed him??
He rolls toward me. 揙f course not. That抯 why I抦 asking you what happened.?
揑f that was true,?I reply, throwing the covers off and swinging my legs to the floor, 搚ou wouldn抰 even have to ask.?
He grabs my hand. 揇on抰 fucking run off, and don抰 act like you抮e mad just so you don抰 have to tell me the truth. I know you didn抰 stalk anyone. I just need the real story.?