He glances down at it with a frown. “Why is he calling you?”
“Because before I left, I signed divorce papers,” I reply. “A courier delivered them to him this morning.”
His brow furrows. “I thought you were living apart. Years, it’s been. That’s what Rachel told us.”
“Yeah, it’s been three years since we shared any semblance of a life or a marriage.”
“And yet you stayed married to him. Why?”
“It’s complicated,” I reply. “Mostly it was about his family, about making them happy…and about my fear of abandonment. Plus, it didn’t seem important to have a formal dissolution so long as we were cordial with each other.”
“So, what changed?”
Ilmari’s good at this. He’s careful with his words and he doesn’t look my way, giving me the space to answer or not, and in my time. I’m usually the kind of person that seeks to fill an awkward silence, but with Ilmari I find myself wanting to lean into it.
“I think I changed,” I reply, giving him the simple truth. “Through every stage of our relationship, I was always the one changing. I changed to please him so many times. I changed my habits and my likes, my sense of humor. Hell, I even changed my coffee order. I’m not even convinced I like coffee. I drink it because he does,” I finish with a shrug.
We’re both quiet for another minute.
“And now?”
I let out a breath. “And now I’ve changed again. I’m stronger, I think. Resigned to my fate.”
“And what fate is that?”
“To survive,” I reply.
“What does that mean?”
“Not everyone is meant to thrive, Ilmari. Some of us are born merely to endure. It took falling in love with Troy and falling back out again to realize how adept I am at survival. And I want it, Mars,” I whisper, heart in my throat. “I want to survive on my terms and by my strength. Troy wanted me to think I was weak. He wanted me to be malleable clay he could make and remake in his image.”
Ilmari glances my way. “And are you that clay, Tess?”
“No.”
“Then what are you?”
Taking a deep breath, I hold it in my lungs, letting it fill me. “I am the fire that forges the clay into something stronger.”
Ilmari is quiet as he considers my words. At last, he glances my way and says, “It sounds to me like you need to answer the phone for yourself.”
As if on cue, the phone begins buzzing in my hand. I glance down to see the name on my caller ID: DEVIL SPAWN.
“What will you do?” Ilmari asks, his tone so calm and quiet.
I gaze down at the phone, feeling the buzz of it in my hand. “I should answer it. I should let him have his say, right? That’s all he ever wants is the last word. He can scream at me and rage, and then we can be done with it. He won’t sign otherwise. He’ll never let go if he thinks I’m somehow winning in all this.”
“So, you want to answer the phone,” Ilmari summarizes.
“No,” I say quickly. “I don’t want to answer. I don’t care if we never speak again. He’s a monster, and his words are nothing but poison.”
“I think you may be overlooking one of the important nuances of human communication,” he replies.
I glance his way, the phone still buzzing in my hand. “What?”
Ilmari just shrugs, his gaze on the road. “No answer is still an answer.”
I let that truth sink deep. No answer is still an answer. I don’t want to answer my phone. I don’t have to answer my phone. So, I won’t.
Breathless with nerves, I jam my thumb down on the automatic window switch. The tinted window rolls halfway down, and the cab of the truck is suddenly blasted with icy air as we climb the bridge stretching across the water. With a shriek, I fling the buzzing phone out the open window, watching it sail over the guardrail and out of sight.
I’m on autopilot as I roll the window back up and turn slowly to look out the front. I can still feel the chill of the wind on my face. “There,” I say at last. “He has his answer.”
Reaching across the center console, Ilmari pats my arm. “Good girl.”
I let out my breath, shoulders sagging, as fresh tears sting my eyes. But these aren’t tears of feeling anxious or trapped. These are happy tears. I feel giddy, like I swallowed a freaking rainbow. Troy will likely find a way to make me pay, but in this moment, I swear to God I don’t care. In this moment, I’m free.