What He's Been Missing (27 page)

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Authors: Grace Octavia

BOOK: What He's Been Missing
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“Sometimes I don't think I made the right decision, Rachel,” Ian said quietly.
“About what?”
“That night at the pier in New Orleans. What you said to me,” Ian said. “Sometimes I don't think I made the right decision—marrying Scarlet. Maybe my mother was right. Maybe I was supposed to be with—”
“Don't! Don't you dare do that!” I cut Ian off. It was just too much. I felt like everyone was playing with my mind. With my heart. “Don't put that on me! You save that shit and you wrap it up and you throw it someplace far away because you don't ever need to bring it up again. You married Scarlet and that's it.”
“But I—”
“And you know what? I'm not even surprised that you're so petty about this. Claiming you want to be with me now that you see me with someone else? That's so classic, Ian! All about you. Can't get from inside that head of yours for five minutes to see that it's my time. You have to take the spotlight. Self-absorbed bastard.” I shook away from him. “Enjoy your cake.”
 
I didn't say anything in the car ride home. I was too afraid I'd explode and every tear I hadn't ever cried would come rushing out of me and wash Xavier clear out of Georgia and straight into the Atlantic Ocean. There was no need to tell him what I'd heard from the balcony. We both knew what the call was at the table. But the way things are, the way we all have to behave so pleasantly without accusing one another of anything that might make the other person accuse you of being suspicious or jealous, trying to ratchet up some fake anger to send a red herring up into the sky—I just couldn't do it. Not anymore. If I opened my mouth, it would be with the truth. And we both knew the truth, so what was the sense in saying anything? Saying something would mean I wanted an explanation. Maybe an apology. I was sick of explanations. I was sick of apologies. I was so very sick of believing I'd ever meet anyone who didn't offer me a combination of the two the moment I opened up my whole heart. I just wanted to go to bed.
I threw one pillow at Xavier and slammed my bedroom door.
He knocked before I could get to the bed.
“I'm going to bed,” I said.
“Just let me explain.”
I went and sat on the edge of the bed. I hadn't turned on the light, so the room was still dark.
He tried again: “I just want to say I'm sorry.”
“You think I'm gullible.”
“Rach, I'm—”
“You think my life is so empty that I'll just be your fool. Come along for a ride. Short. Fast. Give you what you want. All while I think I'm getting what I want. When, you know, we both know you'll be gone before that ever happens.”
“She's my ex-girlfriend. We—”
“I don't want to know! I don't give a fuck who she is. Who you were.”
“I have to, Rachel. I have to tell, because—”
“Because what?” I stopped him. “Because you don't want me to hate you? You don't want me to think of you like every other woman does? To know who you are? To sleep with you again? Is that why?”
“No. I have to tell you the truth, because I don't want to lie to you anymore.” His voice was cracking. He stopped and I heard a plop against the door that sounded like him leaning up against it. “Because I can't lose you.”
“Maybe you never had me to lose.”
We were quiet for a minute and then I saw a little black rectangle slide through the small space beneath the door.
“Look at the floor near the door,” Xavier said. “It's my cellphone. My code is 1905. Her name is Anabell.”
“What do I need that for? You think this is high school? You think I'm about to call some woman about you? Please!”
“If you look at my text messages, you'll see that we stopped seeing each other a month before Ian's wedding. She had a real bad time with it. Went to therapy. I even went with her. Thought it would help, but it only got worse. Then I didn't know how to say good-bye. Now I'm just afraid I'll hurt her too much if I tell her the truth.”
“What truth?”
“That I'm in love with someone else.”
“Well, that love should've made you tell me what was up a long time before your cell phone went off at the wrong time.”
“Rachel, you have to believe me,” Xavier said. “I thought I'd be able to get back to Chicago, sit her down somewhere, and tell her the truth. I just couldn't do it over the phone. And I didn't want to bring you any drama if I didn't have to. I didn't want our start to be dirty with one of my endings. I wanted us to just be happy.”
“Too late,” I said, getting up from my corner on the bed.
“I'm really trying to change. Please don't hold this against me.”
I got into the bed. I could smell him everywhere.
I looked at the cell phone on the floor.
“Just read the texts,” Xavier said. “Call her if you want. I don't care anymore.”
 
Donnica was standing on Peachtree in front of the office when I pulled up. She was wearing teal suede platform stilettos, an orange miniskirt, and a matching fur jacket. A tumbleweed puff of a dog was trapped in her embrace. Cars in swiftly moving traffic tried to cross lanes to get to her curb to stare.
“I'm sorry I came by your office without no invitation—I know that's ghetto, but I had to!” She was sitting across from me in my office, crying and staining the dog's tan coat with indigo teardrops from her fake eyelashes.
“You're fine, darling,” I said. “I can see you're upset.”
“I ain't know what to do. Who else to talk to about this.” She clenched the little dog tighter and he jumped, but she caught him before he could escape. “I'm just so motherfucking pissed off.” Her sadness was punctuated by angry inflections in her voice each time she said a polysyllabic word. The dog jumped again.
“Hey, I'll hold the dog,” I said, standing to reach for the dog. “You talk!” I said louder so Krista could hear me outside, “Krista, get Ms. Grant some water!” I looked back at Donnica.
She was blowing her nose on a Hermès pocket square.
“Talk,” I said.
“I ain't about to marry Zacariah no more!” she said. “It's over!” She tugged the huge diamond ring off her finger and threw it at the door just in time to nearly hit Krista in the head. Luckily, it hit the wall and bounced to the floor. I looked at it and wondered why Donnica would wait until she was in my office to dispose of a two-million-dollar ring. Drama.
“OK . . .” Krista picked up the ring awkwardly and slid both the ring and the water onto the desk in front of Donnica. She tiptoed back out and shut the door halfway while looking at Donnica crossly the whole time.
“Why are you calling the wedding off?” I asked. “You two seemed quite happy last time I saw you.”
“I know!” She started crying harder and one of her lashes came loose from the corner of her eye. “But it won't work! It doesn't matter how happy I am with Zacariah. He ain't fit for marriage. Come on! You know it. He been married twice. He cheated on his baby mama. He gonna cheat on me. And I ain't having that! No! I ain't having that!” She jumped out of the chair like Alarm Clock had just walked into the room.
“But you knew all that when you started dating him,” I said, remembering that Donnica was the woman he'd cheated with.
Donnica kept talking like I hadn't said a word. The dog looked up at me and moaned.
“He ain't never been faithful to nobody,” she said. “Why he gonna be faithful to me? It's just like my grandmamma said. ‘Some men just ain't made to be married. They cold as ice. Brick.” She walked to the window and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“No smoking in the office, please,” I said.
She looked out the window like I hadn't said anything and threw the pack to the door just like she had the ring. She had some arm. The object did hit Krista this time. She appeared in the doorway in time for a tap on her forehead.
“OK . . .” she said, bending over to pick up the cigarettes. She rolled her eyes at me as Donnica sobbed into the glass. “Ian on line one,” she said.
I waved my hand for her to take a message and looked back at Donnica. She was wiping her nose again and looking miserable. I never really considered that Donnica really loved Alarm Clock.
Through the corner of my eye, I could see Krista still staring at me. “He wants to know about lunch. Where do you want me to tell him to meet you?”
I kept my eyes on Donnica.
“Rachel!” Krista called. “Where do you want me to tell Ian to meet you?”
“Nowhere,” I said soberly. “I need to call off lunch today. Tell him I'm meeting with a client.”
“Really? You're canceling lunch?”
I kept stroking the little dog, watching Donnica cry.
“Maybe you should tell him,” Krista added. “He sounds upset—”
“Just tell him what I said.”
Krista turned on her heels to reluctantly excuse herself.
“He probably isn't the best fit for a husband,” I said. “He has his old ways. He's not perfect. Not what you imagined he would be. But he's what you've been missing. What you've been waiting for.”
Donnica turned to me with her face streaked into a Halloween costume. “He is! You're right!” she said.
“And, and, you can't let his past stop that love. Not if you really want to be with him, and you know he loves you,” I said and Donnica nodded. “And who knows, who really knows? Love changes people. Love changes things. You can't give up on love. Love hasn't given up on you!”
“You right!” Donnica was wiping her black tears, smearing the makeup into a new mask.
I didn't realize it, but I'd stood up while I was speaking. And I was holding the dog up to my chest.
“If there's anything I know about love, it's that it's worth taking a risk for. Even if you fail, you have to say you tried. If X says he wants to try, you have to give it a try!”
“Yes! Try!” Donnica shouted. “Wait.” She gathered herself. “Who's X?”
“What?” I snapped out of my thoughts.
“X? You said X,” she pointed out.
“Oh, that was nothing. Just pretend I said Alarm Clock—Zachariah—whatever.”
Donnica sat back down and cleaned her markings with the Hermès cloth before I returned the dog. She picked up the ring and put it back on her finger.
“I don't know what I was thinking,” she said. “I'm so glad I came—”
I saw shoes in the doorway. Before I could turn they'd rushed to stand behind Donnica.
“Ian?” I said. I turned to the doorway again and there was Krista with her hands up.
“I told him,” Krista said. “I tried to stop him!” She backed away from the door.
“You're cancelling lunch with me?” Ian charged.
“Yes, I told Krista to tell you over the phone.”
“She did.”
“So then why'd you come here?”
Donnica's eyes were bouncing between us. It was the quietest I'd ever seen her.
“You know why I came here. We need to talk.”
“Well, we can't,” I said. “I have a client!” I pointed at Donnica.
“I was just leaving,” Donnica said. “I already texted Zach to tell him his Powerpuff girl is—”
“Your client is leaving!” Ian said.
“No, she's not!”
“Yes, I am!” Donnica got up and straightened her little orange skirt like she hadn't just had a breakdown. “I got to get home to Zach! We got us some making up to do.” Donnica wiggled to the door. “Ms. Winslow, I'll see you next week.” She looked at Ian sharply. “Don't be messing with my wedding planner.” She readjusted the dog on her hip and walked out.
“There's nothing for us to talk about,” I said, slamming my laptop closed and getting up from the desk.
“Yes, there is.” Ian closed the door. “We need to talk about last night. About what you heard. About what we heard.”
“I'm fine. I don't need to talk,” I said. I picked up a file from my desk and tried to busy myself by arranging the papers. I couldn't look at Ian. I was embarrassed by what had happened at his house with Xavier. And totally confused by Ian's behavior before I left. “Look, everything is fine with X. We're going to work it out.”
“Work it out? No, Rach—”
“No, what?”
“He's not good enough for you. He never was.”

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