Come Undone (13 page)

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Authors: Jessica Hawkins

Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #debut, #Romance, #Contemporary Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: Come Undone
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My
eyes were drawn again to the house across the way. From where I stood, it
seemed even more out of place on the street, an eyesore among champions. I
began to imagine what it might look like with a trimmed hedge; how it would
morph with a new stone walkway and a fresh coat of paint.

“What
do you think?” I heard from behind me.

“I
like the house across the street,” I said honestly, still staring out the
window.

Bill
was quiet for a moment. “And if you were on that side of the street, you’d like
this one.” At times his tone could be so acerbic that I wondered how it didn’t
eat right through him.

I
turned to face him. “That’s not fair.”

“No?
You haven’t liked any of the houses Jeanine has shown us. This is the best one
yet. It’s perfect, Liv. Good neighborhood, in our price range, and bigger than
we’d hoped.”

“You’re
right, it is an amazing place. I’m just not sure it’s . . . right. I don’t know
if I see myself here.”

“It’s
not just about you, Liv. I’m part of this too. And we have our
future
to think about.”

“I
understand that Bill,” I said, annoyed by the suggestion. “But buying a house
is a huge decision, and I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

“Perfect
doesn’t exist! There’s always going to be something, Liv. It will feel like
home, you just have to give it time.”

I
shook my head, feeling a bit like a stubborn child.

Just
then, Jeanine appeared next to Bill. “I see you found the second room.” She
smiled dully, and I got the impression that she was performing a familiar act,
one that got old after a while. “Great for an office or maybe a nursery?”

My
eyes flicked between them, and Bill laughed awkwardly. “We’re not quite there
yet,” he told Jeanine.

“Oh,
I’m sorry,” she said unconvincingly. “Most couples that move from the city are
getting ready to start a family.” I knew Bill well enough to see that he was
embarrassed.

“Yes,
of course,” I said with an attempt at graciousness. “It’s a beautiful home.
What’s the story with the house across the street?” I asked.

“Oh,”
she said, coming over to the window. “I know, it’s appalling. The owners live
in California and stopped taking care of it a while back. I think a couple
neighbors have tried to report housing code violations, so perhaps one day
they’ll sell or tear it down. I can find out for you.”

I
placed my hand on the glass. “It’s rather charming.”

“I
suppose,” she agreed. “But it’s a mess. It needs a complete overhaul. This
house though, well . . . It won’t be on the market long.” I turned from the
window to Bill, whose lips were pulled tight across his face.

“Let’s
get more information, then,” I said, and without looking at either of them, left
the room.

~

Back at the
apartment, Bill lingered in the kitchen while I prepared dinner. I had no
desire to reopen the discussion, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me get
away with that. I started in on washing the lettuce, thankful for a task to
distract me.

“So
about this afternoon,” he ventured.

I
grimaced with my back to him. “Here,” I said, turning to hand him a knife and
motioning to two red tomatoes on the cutting board. “Can you chop those?”

He
took the knife and began slicing. “What are you thinking?”

“About
what?” I asked, turning back to the sink.

“Today.”

“Can
you be more specific?”

He
was quiet for a moment, and all I heard was the knife hitting the wood
repeatedly. “That house is as close to perfect as it’s going to get, and we
really can’t hesitate.”

      
“Yup, I got
that. I said I’d think about it.”

“And
Jeanine’s right. We’re at the point where we should start thinking about a
family.”

I
answered him with a heavy sigh. “I’m in the same place I was six months ago
when we discussed this. And especially now, if I get this promotion, honey, I
just don’t feel ready.”

“Olivia,
you might never
feel
ready. It’s the
same with the house. The timing will never be right, you just have to do it,
and the rest will come.”

I
stiffened anxiously. It wasn’t that I just didn’t feel ready. If I was being
honest, I didn’t want it. And I worried that I never would. I remembered before
Bill had proposed, when he and I had talked about our future, I had assured him
that one day I would get there. That there would be a right time for children. Did
that mean I owed it to him?

“I
need more time.”

“I’m
ready now.”

I
whirled from the sink to face him. “Now?” I asked, incredulous. He was quiet
again, but this time he’d stopped chopping, and his knuckles were white from
gripping the knife. “Bill, be reasonable. I’m not ready.”

“I
heard you the first time, but you are. We are. I don’t want you to start birth
control.”

“Don’t
push me Bill, this is too big of a decision.”

“It’s
not a decision, Liv. It’s a feeling. I’m ready, and so are you.”

“Stop
saying that! You don’t know what I am! What if you’re wrong – what
happens if we’re not ready? I don’t want to end up like - ” I caught myself.

“Like
what?” he asked, looking hurt. “Like your parents?” I didn’t say anything, but
turned around so my back was to him again.

“That’s
completely different, babe. They didn’t split up because of you. They changed,
they fell out of love.”

We
were silent, and the kitchen filled with the sound of the running faucet. I
knew I hadn’t caused the divorce. But the year leading up to the split was the beginning
of a painful downward spiral. Bill and I were happy now, but were we solid
enough to bring a child into the world? And was that even what I wanted?

“Maybe
you were right,” he said after some time had passed. “Maybe you’re not ready. We’ve
been married for almost three years, and you still won’t let me in. I don’t
know how else to get you to commit, Olivia. I’ve been patient, but I want this,
and that’s not going to change. Promise me you’ll give this some serious
thought.” Before I could answer, I heard him toss the knife on the table and
leave the kitchen.

~

“It’s
Gretchen.”

I
took the phone from Bill’s outstretched hand so that he could return to sulking
in silence. They were the first words he’d spoken to me since the night before.
Fortunately, the latest James Patterson novel had kept him occupied for most of
the morning.

“So
I think I told you about the chef I’ve been dating?” Gretchen’s voice came
through the phone. “His restaurant’s soft opening is tonight, and he wants me
to invite people. You guys up for it?”
She
couldn’t have picked a better day to ask,
I thought. Bill and I needed a
distraction from each other.

“Let
me call you back.”

“I
thought you wanted a quiet weekend,” Bill said when I told him. He stuck his
finger in his book and shut it.

“I
do,” I said thoughtfully. “I did. But I think it could be fun. And it’s an
invitation from the head chef.”

“Babe,
no. I’m not in the mood.”

I
dialed Lucy as Bill turned back to his book.

“Hey,”
she picked up after the second ring.

“Are
you guys going tonight?” I asked.

“Not
sure yet. Andrew is throwing a tantrum about it. I guess there’s a game on,”
she said.

“Oh,
is there?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at Bill, who ignored me. I put my
finger over the mouthpiece and asked, “A game? Really Bill?” He shrugged, and I
rolled my eyes.

“Perhaps
we should make it a girls night then,” I suggested, knowing that Bill wouldn’t
be much happier about that.

“I
was thinking the same thing. Oh, we can really get dressed up too! I’ll just
check with Andrew.”

“Livs,
come on,” Bill started.

“Off
the hook. You’re welcome,” I snapped as I left the room. I disrobed and waited
for the shower to heat, watching as steam began to curl over the door. I looked
into the mirror at myself, admiring my slim figure. I ran my hands over my
breasts and down my stomach, stopping to touch the small, raised scar on my
side.

I
had gotten what I’d wanted: distance from David. I still hadn’t heard from him.
And it alarmed me to realize that the distance hadn’t helped. If anything, I
thought of him more often. I wondered what he was doing, why he hadn’t called
the office. I thought of him now, as I stood completely vulnerable in my
bathroom. In Bill’s bathroom. I recalled our last conversation, when I had told
him not to phone.
Just business
, I
thought. After the argument with Bill, it was important that I focus on the
life we were building - imperative, in fact. I blinked from the thought,
finding my image distorted in the foggy mirror.

~

I pulled on
my ear as I surveyed my closet, deciding on a one-shoulder, body-skimming gold
sequined dress.

“Livs!”
Bill shouted from the other room. “Lucy’s here!”

I
grabbed my black platforms and went out to meet her. “Well, don’t you clean up
nice!” I exclaimed.

“Not
so bad yourself,” she said with a sweet smile.

“Is
it too much?” I asked.

Bill
looked over then. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”

“I’m
taking a coat.”

He shifted as he looked me up and down. “Is this
restaurant thing a big deal?”

Lucy shrugged. “We just felt like getting
dressed up.”

“Well you both look gorgeous.” He unmuted the
TV. “And please don’t leave me for the head chef,” he joked.

I wondered if his mood had changed because we
had company or if he was over last night’s tiff. I never knew with him, but was
grateful either way. I leaned over the couch, letting my hair fall over his
shoulder. “Don’t wait up,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

~

When we
arrived, we found Gretchen at the bar with her roommates, Ava and Bethany. The
three of them talked vivaciously, as though they didn’t see each other every day.
Lucy and I tried our best to sew ourselves into the conversation about love,
sex and dating. I could appreciate tales from the other side, but my stories
had run out already. At least, any stories these girls would be interested in
hearing. Ava, who was husband hunting, would surely be disappointed with Bill’s
and my no-frills lovemaking. And Bethany, who was proudly unattached, would be
bored by it. It didn’t upset me to think so; I’d happily left singledom behind.
One drink in, the hostess approached and interrupted us mid-laugh.

“Harper?”
she said to the group.

“That’s
me,” said Gretchen, sliding off her stool.

“I
apologize for the wait, Ms. Harper.” She stepped back, allowing us to gather
our things. “Jeff wanted us to prepare a special table for you as his guests.” She
showed us to a round table in the middle.

I
turned back to Gretchen and asked under my breath, “Jeff the chef?”

Lucy
and I burst into a fit of giggles as she rolled her eyes. “Grow up,” she
scolded.

Gretchen
insisted on facing the door to keep tabs on the crowd, and we molded ourselves
around her. Almost immediately, the waiter arrived with what I recognized as an
expensive Bordeaux and poured us each a glass. Someone else appeared with a
plate of appetizers, and our girl talk took up warp speed as we indulged. Gretchen
dished on Jeff, telling us that he had been wooing her for weeks but that she’d
only just agreed to a first date.

“I
could get used to this,” Bethany said. “I can’t wait to see what happens when
you actually sleep with him!”

“Seriously,”
Ava agreed as she finished off another glass.

All
of a sudden, my ears tuned to a bass in the hum of the crowd. My body tensed,
and I hunched down in my chair feeling instantly exposed. Gretchen had stopped
talking and was staring over my sequined shoulder. Would I be able to escape to
the bathroom before he noticed me? I was still stinging from the fact that he’d
lost interest so quickly. Lucy, who was sitting next to Gretchen and was
thoroughly tipsy, broke into a smile and waved her hand.

“Well,
if it isn’t my lucky day.”

The
hairs on the back of my neck rose. I lifted my head and reeled at the sight of David.
He looked devilishly handsome in a charcoal pea coat that hung open to reveal a
V-neck sweater and exposed checked collar. His eyes sought mine and that
familiar electric current passed between us.

Then
I saw her, the girl from the Internet. She was almost as tall as him in
sky-high heels that lengthened already long dark legs. Caramel-colored hair fell
in waves over her shoulders, framing those unmistakable green eyes. She donned
a skin-tight red dress that showed off an athletic figure. Envy flooded over me
so powerfully that I dug my nails into my seat cushion. I was surprised by the
extremity of the unfamiliar emotion. She was the epitome of Latin beauty and
her dark complexion melded flawlessly with his bronzed skin.

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