Intent(30)

“That was said under duress,” I pretend to pout. “It doesn’t count.”

“You just want me to do it again.” He grins.

“No! You win,” I laugh. “For now.”

“So you’ll come by tomorrow?”

“Of course I’ll be there,” I assure him. “I’d do anything for Frankie.”



* * *



We spent a couple of hours looking at the stars, picking out constellations, and playfully arguing over whether the brighter lights were satellites or planets. It was just so easy to spend time with him with no specific agenda. Even the silence was comfortable. There was no need to fill in the space with white noise. No desperate search for something interesting to talk about.

I watched him walk away, back toward his house. As much as I hated to see him go, he was right when he said I wasn't ready for him to spend the night. As soon as I lock the door behind me, I hear my cell phone ringing from the other room. I race through the living room and straight into the kitchen to find my phone. Anyone calling this late must have an emergency.

When I finally find it, I don't recognize the number on the caller ID, but it's a New York area code. My first thought is one of my cases is blowing up and whoever was assigned to it needs my input.

"Hello?" I ask breathlessly.

"Layne," the familiar voice pleads. "Don't hang up."

“What do you want?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to hear from you ever again.”

“You did,” Bobby replies sadly. “And I’m sorry, I can’t just leave you alone. We need to talk, Laynie.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

“Layne, please, we have to talk about this. We’ve been together too long to just throw everything away now.”

“You threw it all away the first time you slept with Cyndi. Don’t even try to put that blame on me, like you’re the f*cking victim.”

Bobby sighs heavily and I can picture him as clearly as if he’s standing beside me. His eyes are shimmering with tears, he’s trying desperately to hold on to any semblance of self-control, and he’s searching for his next words.

“Just hear me out, okay?”

He always says that when he’s trying to think on his feet. In spite of the fact that I loved him for seven years, I hate that I know him so well.

“Say what you have to say and then leave me alone,” I partially concede.

“I’m completely responsible for what I did. Betraying you. Hurting you. Lying to you. Making you feel anything but cherished and loved. If there were a way I could go back and change it all, I would in a second. I’d give up anything I have to be able to do that.

“But I can’t. All I can do is get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness. Beg you to give us one more chance. Beg you to not let what we have wither and die because I made the worst mistake I could make. Beg you to let me earn your love every single day for the rest of your life.”

I can’t lie and say there wasn’t a time when I wanted to hear these very words. Or that they don’t affect me now and make me wish for what I always thought we had. Then the pain of finding them together that day comes rushing back. Cyndi’s revelation that she’s carrying Bobby’s baby sealed our relationship coffin. While I’m talking to him, there is a question I want answered, for closure, to move on without another thought of Bobby and Cyndi.

“You owe me an answer to a question that’s been haunting me. And I deserve the truth, no matter what it is. If you hesitate even one second before answering me, I’ll know you’re lying and this will be our last conversation—ever.”

“Ask me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“What was it that pushed you into bed with Cyndi?”

“I was so overwhelmed, Layne. So many things were going wrong at work, and I thought the restaurant would close for good. You didn’t put pressure on me, but I did feel pressured to get married and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it. Then the whole baby thing came up.

“The thought of being a father and being responsible for another human being freaked me out, but I knew it was something you really wanted, so I agreed to it. But then when it still hadn’t happened after two years of trying, I started to think it wasn’t meant to happen. I snapped under all the pressure and thought I wanted to go back to a more carefree time.”

He finally stops to take a breath but mine is still frozen in my throat. He really thinks that explanation explains it all away. He believes he’s done this great and noble thing by admitting all his faults. But what he’s done is confirm that he’s been lying to me for a long time. He dares to say he felt pressured to get married and have a baby, but not by me. What a cowardly cop-out. He still can’t tell the truth.

And I’ve been lying to myself for far too long by thinking a baby would bring us closer, that it would make him want to marry me.

“Let me get this straight. You were pressured into marrying me, having a baby with me, even just being with me. Two years of making love to me without producing a baby proved to you we weren’t meant to be. The thought of being a father freaked you out, but it sure as hell didn’t affect your performance when you were f*cking Cyndi after you impregnated her. I call complete and utter bullshit on every word you just said. Don’t call me again.”