The Last Invitation (37)

“You were right.” It didn’t kill her to say it, which was the only positive thing she could find about today. Being dragged out of her law firm while everyone watched gave her a new perspective on shame and embarrassment. Admitting he’d called this one right didn’t come close to that bottom.

He didn’t have his briefcase. He hadn’t taken off his suit jacket. It was as if he’d swung by for a brief check-in and planned to blow out again. “Do you have to go back to work tonight?”

“No.” He rubbed his eyes as he often did when he was about to say something he knew she wouldn’t like. “But . . . I can’t do this.”

That comment pushed away the hollow feeling threatening to swallow her. He had her full attention now. She shifted on the couch, sitting up straighter and putting down the wineglass. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve tried to ride this out. Be supportive.”

Them. Their relationship. He didn’t name the “this,” but she knew. “When? This whole thing just happened.”

He shook his head as he exhaled. “I mean before.”

She didn’t realize the exhaustion could press down even harder, but it did. “Really? You mean when you were warning me? For the record, that’s not my idea of support.”

“You know that’s not fair.”

“This is my worst day, Tim.” She didn’t add ever because he’d accused her of overreacting before, of jumping in instead of listening, and she refused to have that accusation leveled at her tonight.

“You were so busy trying to get ahead and competing that you missed the obvious signs of trouble. This isn’t a new thing, Jessa. It’s how you live your life, as if chaos and hope will get you where you want to be.”

That hit a little too close. She forced her body up. Somehow, she stood. She kept the coffee table between them, but she closed the yawning emotional gap.

“I begged you. I knew the Bartholomew family would dismantle your career,” he said.

Because he knew everything. Got it. “I told you that you were right. You win. Can we move forward now?”

His shoulders slumped, and he still didn’t move from that perch on the edge of the chair. “Not everything is a battle.”

“It sure feels like it.”

“I’m sorry, but I need a break.” His voice cut out a little before he started again. “From you. Some time away.”

With every other aspect of her life in disarray, she needed him to be specific, to spell it out. “How much time?”

“I don’t know.”

But he did. She could hear the faint goodbye in every sentence. “You can’t . . . not now. This is . . .” Then the truth hit her. Anger swelled inside her, trying to claw its way out. She’d broken the unspoken rule about not messing up her job, and he wanted out. “Oh my God. This is about your career. You’re worried my reputation is going to bring you down.”

He stood up. “I don’t want to do this with you.”

“You piece of shit.”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

She stalked over to him. Got right in his face. Didn’t give him the choice of ignoring her. “You’re not even man enough to say you’re pushing me away to save your precious job. Things get tough, there goes Tim.” The words poured out of her now. She wanted to sharpen each comment and aim them right at him. Tear him apart as he was doing to her. “You have such a perfect life. It’s all been so easy. Mommy and Daddy paved the way, gave you the money and the splashy education.”

The mention of money and his privileged background seemed to snap his control. “Jessa, that’s enough.”

“One thing gets a little difficult, and you run away like a coward. When it’s not all about looking pretty on your arm at charity events or being able to schmooze your partners, I’m out. I’m a liability.” She forced him to look at her. Followed his gaze and stuck her face in front of him. “How could you?”

“I tried. I really . . . I didn’t want this.”

She thought she saw a tiny sliver, room for her pain to get through to him. She held on to his jacket and tugged him closer to her. “No . . . no. Please. Today is just . . . We can’t let the Bartholomews win.”

“This is about you and your choices. Your priorities.” He peeled her hands off him and shifted until he broke out of the trap between her and the chair. “The condo is in my name.”

Her house. The one thing she had left. “You can’t.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow night, but you need to leave. You can stay with Faith while we figure this out.”

She tried to step back and look at her life, and the picture made her heave. No job. No house. All stability gone, taking her reputation along with it. “This is my house.”

“It’s actually my house. You moved in with me.”

She shoved him. Both hands on his chest, and still he barely moved. “I will burn it down first.”

“Listen to me.” He grabbed her hands and held her still, keeping her from punching him. “If you destroy one thing or take even one glass that’s not yours, I will come after you and ruin whatever you haven’t already destroyed. Have some dignity and self-respect.”