Arrogant Devil(34)

“Conveniently connected to a vineyard.”

Is that what that was?

“To make matters worse,” she continues, “I sat there tonight, openly flirting with Vince, trying to work up some fire in you, and in the end, I got nothin’. Nada. Squat.”

I shrug. That was a waste of her time. “I’m not the jealous type.”

She laughs acerbically and shakes her head. “Of course you aren’t. To get jealous, you have to actually value something. You have to be scared of someone else having what you want. You’re not scared of losing me.”

“C’mon, that’s not true. I know I’d be a damn fool if I let you go.”

“Be that as it may,” she says, her gaze falling to her lap, “you know you’re doing it anyway. You’re just too comfortable to break things off with me for good.”

“You’re a catch, Christine.”

She pinches her eyes closed. “You say that like you’re a robot.”

Do I sound cold? I don’t mean to. I don’t know how else to be, how else to sound. I don’t know what to say or how to act. I’m walking a tightrope here. I don’t want to lie to her and feed her more bullshit just to keep her, but I also don’t want her to leave this truck thinking less of herself. Objectively, she is a catch. I am a fool if I let her go.

“You’re a great guy, Jack, but it’s time for me to move on.”

“So you’re breaking up with me? Just like that?”

She turns and offers me a wistful smile. There are tears in her eyes, and I reach out to take her hand and squeeze it once before she pulls it away.

“Tell Edith bye for me.”

“You don’t want to tell her yourself?”

She shakes her head and pushes open her door to hop out of the truck. “Nah. She never did like me. Honestly, I’d rather just head home.”

“Why don’t you stay the night? I don’t want you driving in the dark. You can stay in a guest room or have my bed if you prefer it. I can sleep on the couch.”

She declines and we take our time getting out of the truck.

She buries her face in her hands. “God, this is the weirdest breakup ever. We’re supposed to be shouting at one another.”

I frown. “I’ve never shouted at you.”

“I know.” She drops her hands and levels a steady gaze at me. “That’s exactly why we’re breaking up.”



No amount of urging can get Christine to stay the night, but she promises to text me when she gets home to let me know she got there safely. I watch her drive off, turn for the house, and promptly decide to get back in my truck. I don’t want to go in there and face Edith. Besides, there are practical considerations at play: I’m still very hungry.

I drive to the closest Whataburger, order my favorite combo, sit in the parking lot, and eat by myself. The food tastes so good, it makes up for the fact that Christine’s words have made a mess of my psyche.

I’ve never shouted at you.

I know. That’s exactly why we’re breaking up.

I’m clever enough to read between the lines. Christine didn’t want me abusing her, she wanted me to give a shit. It was a running theme in all of our arguments, and ultimately it was the reason she broke up with me earlier tonight. Love, jealousy, fear, anger—those are all emotions she would have gladly dealt with from me, yet for some reason I just couldn’t give them to her. For two years, I was gentle and levelheaded, logical and distant. It’s the way I’ve always preferred it. A wiser man would take the problem to a therapist, but maybe I’m not ready to admit I need help.

Besides, I do have emotions.

I’ve experienced anger. Jesus, I’ve shouted at Meredith so much this week my throat should be sore.

I’ve experienced love. It’s the feeling I get every morning when Alfred props his head up on my pillow and licks my cheek until I wake up.

I’ve even experienced fear and loss, and maybe I’m not so eager to relive that pain any time soon.

So, I process my breakup with Christine over a double cheeseburger and fries, and by the time I drive out of the parking lot, I’ve already come to terms with it, just like that.

Damn, I am heartless.

Maybe Christine really is better off without me.



13



Meredith



I’m not spying, per se, when I hear Jack and Christine get back from their date. I just have the windows open because I’m still living without A/C (so far I’ve lost four pounds in water weight, and I’ve only had several hallucinations!). I hear them pull up on the gravel drive because there are no other noises in the country. None. I mean, there are cicadas and the occasional moo from a cow, an oink from a pig, but all in all, I’m shocked at how quiet it is out here in the evenings. I’m not quite used to it, and that’s why I get so excited when Jack and Christine pull up the gravel drive. It’s not that I think they will ask me to hang out with them. I mean, Jack definitely won’t want to, but Christine seemed really nice and she liked my jeans, and OH MY GOD I AM GETTING SO BORED IN THIS SHACK I’LL DISCUSS AMNESTY WITH THE SPIDERS IF THEY’LL JUST BE MY FRIENDS!

The first few nights here were great, like an LA detox. I was satisfied letting the last few loose threads of my old life fall away in the balmy air, but now I need some companionship. I’d bother Edith, but she’s out with friends. She has more of those than I do even though she’s 104. Meanwhile, I’m here, alone, pretending to do yoga—which, by the way, is extremely difficult to do considering I have no yoga mat. Not only are there a few gaps in the floorboards, there are splinters too. It’s hard enough convincing myself to work out on a Friday night without having to worry about being impaled by a jagged piece of timber.