I cleared my throat and stood up tall as Dex slammed the back shut.
“I’ll call you when I get to Seattle,” I told them. My mom wasn’t looking at me, so I unfortunately had to say it to Maximus.
He nodded solemnly and gave my mother a squeeze, like he was playing the part in a play. It left a film of bad taste in my mouth but I could only ignore it and turn around. I took the slow steps toward the front door, conflicted by the need to get the hell out of there while I could and the need to stay behind and tell my mother that everything was going to be OK.
If it wasn’t for the energy I felt from Dex on the other side of the car, the reality, the reason for leaving, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. But I pushed through and went by on that instinctive need to protect myself.
I got in the car, shut the door, and we roared off down that fog-shrouded road I grew up on.
CHAPTER FOUR
The drive to Seattle was as pensive as the grey, low clouds that flew past the windows as we made our way up the I-5. In a few areas there were patches of snow that piqued my interest, but most of the time I just sat as close to the door as possible, as if it was my only escape route.
I watched the scenery with forced attention, a distraction from reality, until reality bit me in the form of Ada. Her texts came through in a frantic succession and though I knew she understood deep down, I could imagine how hurt she was that I left without saying goodbye. Then the phone calls from my parents came and I quickly turned off my phone before they had a chance to really get to me. I needed to know I was making the right choice and in that car, packed to the brim with my belongings, with my life, I still didn’t know.
We were just outside of Olympia when Dex asked, “Can we talk about it?”
I had this cold feeling, like someone deposited a chunk of ice in my gut. I didn’t want to clarify what he meant, but my mouth was faster than my heart.
“Talk about what?”
A heady silence filled the car, heavy like a sandbag. I picked at my nails and waited. I knew this wasn’t going to be some random question. Wasn’t there a theory about the size of a pause after someone asks you a question or a favor? The greater the pause, the greater the favor. Maybe that was all Jerry Seinfeld.
He sighed softly and steadied his grip on the wheel.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Well if there’s more than one thing, I’d rather we didn’t talk about it,” I mumbled, watching the pavement roll past. Lord knows I had a million things I wanted to ask him: How come you look better after everything I’d gone through? Why did I have to suffer after you left me, and you’re looking and acting like a modern day Adonis? When am I going to stop being mad at you?
He tugged the front of his cap down, so that his eyes were covered in shadow.
The pause amplified. If anticipation was a breathing, living thing, it would have popped out the windows and made a run for it.
He kept his gaze locked on the cars in front of us and said in a low voice, “Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?”
I had a feeling that was the question. Ever since my mom brought it up earlier, pointed like a spear, I knew Dex had been stuck on it.
But I still wasn’t ready for it.
I took in a deep breath. “I didn’t know until it was too late.”
“Perry…”
“It’s true,” I said angrily.
He bit his lip, keeping his eyes hidden. “Would you have told me anyway?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“That’s not fair-“
“That’s not fair?!” I exploded. He winced and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Don’t you dare tell me what’s not fair! Do you think I wanted to be f**king pregnant! If I had found out earlier, I would have gotten rid of it. I would have gotten rid of anything that had something to do with you!”
Dex lifted his head up, like I had just slapped him in the face. His eyes prickled with clarity. He was stunned.
I felt bad but it didn’t stop me from continuing, my feelings rumbling out like an overdue avalanche. “You ended things. You f**ked up and you ruined me and I owe you nothing! You have no right to know what was going on in my life. You have no business in it. You have nothing!”
“I had a right,” he protested, words gravely and barely above a whisper.
“You had no -“
“That was my baby too!” he yelled, his body shaking with the force. He yelled it with such acute pain and intensity that I jumped in my seat. I shut my mouth, feeling stupid and embarrassed and very small.
A few moments passed as his words sank into the atmosphere, making the air even heavier than before. I squirmed, wondering if I had made a huge mistake by going with him. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who was mad about things, but I still felt I was the only one who had a reason.
I could feel his head turn toward me, watching me.
“You’re not the only one with a reason to be mad, Perry,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm.
I shivered and eyed him incredulously. “What?”
“Nevermind,” he said with a shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
It did matter and it would matter for a long time. But that wasn’t the issue now.
“Did you just hear me thinking that?” I asked. I watched him carefully, searching for a lie.
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I was just thinking that. Did you read my thoughts?”
“I knew what you were thinking, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
He looked a little confused but didn’t add anything else to it. He relaxed a bit in his shoulders and I decided not to press it. Things were already weird and strained without going down this road. If he couldn’t read my thoughts, then I didn’t want to bring it to his attention.
I wanted to keep everything to myself.
~~~
Seattle welcomed me with lashings of bone-chilling rain and heavy grey arms. It did little to comfort me and the moment I saw his Parisian-style apartment building just beside the monorail, I felt even colder.
In a surreal state, we parked the car in the underground garage and I pretended the last time I was there, I wasn’t picking up my shattered heart and jumping on my bike for a snowy escape. We went up the elevator with my suitcase and the first of the boxes, and when we got to his front door, I pretended I hadn’t slammed it in his face, telling him I quit the show. And when we walked into the apartment, I looked away from the kitchen island, pretending that it wasn’t there where we had made love.