The Marriage Lie(73)

And she seems a little out of breath. “Somebody told me you were back, but—”

“Good morning, Ava. How was your weekend?”

She shifts her weight to her other leg and wrings a manicured finger, casting an anxious glance at whoever is standing in the hallway. “What?”

I step around her to the other side of my desk, dropping my bag on the floor before I fall into my chair. Will’s picture, the one of him from last year’s Music Midtown, smiles at me from next to my computer screen. I open my bottom drawer and chuck it in, frame and all.

“I asked you how your weekend was.”

“Oh. Fine, I guess.” She chews on her bottom lip, plump and perfectly glossed, her gaze flitting around the room. “Mr. Rawlings told us you wouldn’t be back for a while.”

I’ve always liked Ted, but imagining his face at the town hall meeting when he said those words, his furrowed brow and compassionate tone as he implied I was at home falling apart, I can barely contain my cringe. I don’t want anyone’s sympathy. I don’t deserve it.

“I wanted to call,” she says, “but I didn’t have your number...” Ava moves closer to the desk, a conscious step into my field of vision. “And I thought about stopping by, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about me just showing up unannounced at your house.”

My gaze shoots to hers. “Why?”

Her pretty forehead crumples in a frown. “Why didn’t I know how you’d feel?”

“Why would you show up at my house unannounced? Why would you even consider it?” The questions come out like angry accusations, and I know I’m being rude and unreasonable, but I can’t stop myself. There are too many conversations going on here—with Ava, with her nervously animated hands and my accusing glares, with the phone that’s dead in my bag—and my senses are overloaded. It’s like I’m watching television and blasting the radio and talking all at the same time. I need for at least one of the noises to shut the hell up.

“Because I...” She comes strong out of the gate, then fumbles, her words trailing away into nothing. She backs away from the desk, drops her backpack onto the floor and sits, her back ramrod straight, on the corner chair. Outside my office door, the hallway is quiet, the rest of the kids in class. “I wanted to know how you were doing. I was worried.”

It’s not just her words that suck the steam from my anger but also her tone, hesitant and unsure. I should apologize. I should open my mouth and tell her I’m sorry for using her as an emotional punching bag, but I can’t seem to make myself. I’m too uncomfortable with where this conversation is headed, so instead I flip it back onto her.

“I appreciate your concern. Thank you. So how are things going with Charlotte Wilbanks? Any new arguments I should know about?”

Ava’s pretty blue eyes bug, the facial equivalent of are you kidding me? She doesn’t speak for a good ten seconds. “Fighting with Charlotte is just so pointless.”

“Good for you. That’s a very mature stance to take. What about you and Adam Nightingale? Are you two still an item?”

“Charlotte can have him. All Adam wants to do is play the guitar or have sex, and honestly?” She makes a face. “He’s not very good at either.” She leans back in her chair, studying me over my desk with a tenderness I didn’t know she was capable of. “My mom left.”

At first I think I didn’t hear her right. “What do you mean she left? Left where?”

“Our house. My dad. She went to live in Sandy Springs with some mechanic named Bruce.” She says it like she’d report the weather, flat and matter-of-fact. “Apparently, they’re in love or something.”

I lean back in my chair, blowing out a breath. “Okay. Wow. That’s... That must be a huge adjustment for you.”

“I’ll say. You should see my room at Bruce’s house. It’s tiny.” She gives me a half grin to let me know she’s not entirely serious.

“I meant your parents splitting up.”

Ava pulls a hunk of hair over her shoulder and winds the ends around a finger. “I don’t know. It’s not like my dad was the greatest husband or anything. He’s hardly ever at home, and when he is, he’s always on the phone or behind his computer. I’m not entirely positive he’s noticed she’s gone. And Mom does seem a lot happier now. She smiles literally all the time.”

“Divorce is tough on everyone involved, but you know this is something between your parents, right? It has nothing to do with you.”

She nods like she doesn’t quite believe me. “You want to know the craziest thing? Mom didn’t take anything but the clothes on her back. Not her jewelry, not her car, not even her Birkin bag. Last Christmas she couldn’t live without a pink diamond Rolex and now the only thing she wants is fifty-fifty custody.”

“It sounds like she’s found something much more valuable.” I think about Will, about how empty my life is without him in it, about how he’s back and blowing up my phone with text messages I don’t dare to read, and a pang hits me in the center of the chest.

Ava lifts a bony shoulder. “I guess Bruce is okay.”

“I meant you. She might be leaving your father, but it sounds like she’s still very much committed to you.”