Rita
I sit on the couch, legs crossed under me, a glass of red wine cradled between my hands. Scar’s in the kitchen pouring himself a drink, looking exhausted from a long day at work. He drifts over, glancing from me to the black TV, frowning slightly. Probably wondering why I’m sitting here in silence, doing nothing.
I have enough entertainment in my head right now. I don’t need more noise.
I’m on edge. I try to mask it, but it’s like he can see through me. Peel apart my layers, look beyond what I’m showing to the world. I squirm, trying to keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to talk about this. But I need to talk about this.
It’s killing me, this dream job.
Killing me because it’s so good and so bad at the same time.
He speaks first. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean, what’s the matter?” I smile at him as sweetly as I can, but I must look deranged. “Nothing’s the matter.”
“You’re grinning like you want to peel off my face and wear it.”
“So says the toe-killer.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Nothing. Never mind. I’m fine.” I take a big sip of wine. Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be? “How was your day?” I ask, trying to deflect attention.
“Stressful.” He leans back and sighs, telling me about a client that’s been bugging him a lot lately over minor problems. “Then there’s the apartment hunting. I hired a realtor out in Boston, but she’s not coming back with any viable options. I’m starting to think I need someone else.”
I feel like my body sinks into the couch. “I thought I was coming up with a list.”
He glances at me, a hint of surprise in his expression. “You are. But I thought-”
“Or did you think that I wasn’t coming with you?”
Silence. He stares at me. My body goes numb, and I’m doing all I can to hold myself together.
“Janine called,” he says finally, piercing some of the pressure. “She told you about Appalachian Peaks.”
But it’s not enough. His bland stare, the even way he says it, like it’s nothing. While I’m vibrating inside, a piece of crystal about to explode.
“Why did you tell her to put my resume out there?”
“I didn’t know they’d be interested.” He shakes his head, grimacing. “All right, that’s not true. I knew they would be. I hoped they would be, at least.”
“Why?” I ask, trying not to let myself cry, but a lump forms in my throat. I’m embarrassed, upset, betrayed, a thousand different things.
I thought we were forming something deeper.
A real bond, an actual connection. I can’t call it love-or an actual relationship-not when our arrangement is so complicated. But I thought we had gotten past this point and were finally moving somewhere better.
Sleeping together. Laughing, eating, bathing together. I’ve been thinking of him as more than my roommate, more than a partner in a wild scheme we cooked up.
Now I’m wondering if that was entirely one-sided.
He stands, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I should’ve told you,” he says. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve warned you. Janine called about getting me a new assistant, mentioned the Appalachian Peaks job, and I knew I had to throw your name out there. I mean, it’s a dream job, isn’t it? I couldn’t ignore that chance for you.”
“I still don’t understand why you did it. We had a plan. Don’t you want me to come to Boston with you?”
“I do,” he says before looking at me. “And I don’t.”
That kills me.
I don’t.
I open my mouth, but I have to shut it again, otherwise I’ll start crying. This is so mortifying I could throw myself out the window.
Worst of all, it’s my fault.
I let myself start to feel this way for him. I knew it was a mistake-he even all but told me it was a mistake-and I still couldn’t help it.
We fit together.
There’s no other way to describe it. I’ve never been with someone that gets me like he does-with absolutely no effort.
Our jokes, our stories, everything clicks. I haven’t gotten bored of him a single time since moving here, even when I’ve been pissed at him.
That’s so rare. That never happens to people, and yet here it is, happening to me.
I thought I had something good. Something all my own.
Something that could finally push away the misery of my life.
Now it’s like he’s shining a light, and everything’s rotten. What I thought was solid-is actually filled with holes.
“Explain,” I manage to croak. It’s not dignified, but hell, at least I said something.
He lingers in the kitchen, putting distance between us.
I feel him pulling further and further away.
“I’m not good for you, Rita,” he says, speaking so softly I have to lean closer to hear. “I knew this would be hard when we started, but it’s only gotten harder. I figured we’d fly out to the East Coast a few times, maybe spend a couple weeks there, but can I really ask you to uproot yourself and move full-time with me?”
“I was ready to do it,” I say, feeling absolutely pathetic. “I still am.” Add this to the list of ways life has really slapped me in the face.
“I know you’d do it, and that’s another reason I don’t deserve you.” He puts his drink down, spreads his hand. “Listen to me, Rita. You need something all your own. You could come out to Boston with me, spend a year of your life tricking the Callahans, all for what? Some money? Your debt’s gone. You don’t need me anymore. All you’d do out there is languish, waste your time, but this job is a real future. It’s the kind of opportunity that comes along once and never again. How could I keep you from that? This job is something I can’t provide.”
I want to scream at him, I don’t want a real future, I don’t want some stupid job, I want you. But I’ve already debased myself enough as it is.
Instead, I tilt my head. “This job isn’t over.”
“I’m aware of that.” He rubs the bridge of his nose. “I’ll work on how to fix things with the Callahans. It’ll be complicated, but I’ll manage.”
“Gregory’s not going to make it easy.”
“All the more reason for you to stay here. Stay away from the Callahans. If you come with me, if we’re living out there full-time, there will be too many opportunities for us to screw this up and get you hurt. I can’t live with myself if something bad happened.”
“What then? You just want to leave me behind? I thought we had a deal. I wanted to do this.”
“I know,” he says, turning away from me, jaw flexing like he’s holding his emotions in check. “I still want you to come too. That’s the worst part. But when Janine mentioned Appalachian Peaks was hiring, I couldn’t just ignore that. I knew you’d be perfect for that job. I knew it’d be like a dream come true if they called, and they did. How could I look at myself in the mirror if I’m so selfish that I’d keep you from something like that? When I have nothing better to offer?”
That’s my decision to make.
I should be allowed to choose if what he has is better.
But some of what he’s saying makes sense. He didn’t go out looking for this job opportunity-it fell into his lap. Would it have been right to keep it from me? Maybe I get the job-maybe I don’t.
He gave me the choice.
And I chose to take the interview.
That says something about me. About what I really want.
“I understand,” I say, staring at my drink. “Maybe it won’t matter and they won’t hire me.”
“They will,” he says, sounding exhausted. “They’d be stupid not to, and I don’t think they’re stupid.”
“Thanks,” I say, blinking back tears. I stand up abruptly. “I think I need to head to bed early.”
“Rita-”
“No, it’s okay, I’m okay. Really, I’m fine. I have an interview for a dream job, why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m not moving to Boston with you, so what? This should be better, right? A job all my own?” I laugh, sounding hysterical. “It’ll be great, really, Scar, you made the right decision.” I breeze past him, down the hall. He stands there watching me, but I don’t look back.
I close my bedroom door, lock it, and sink to the floor. I finish the wine in two big gulps.
He was right to get me this opportunity.
He did it for me-to make me happy. To give me something real.
So why does it feel like I’m being banished? Like he’s punishing me instead?
Finally, unable to help it, the tears break loose from my throat.