“I’m here, in the living room.”
Relief surged through her. He was back. She was pissed he’d put her through the anguish of the past four days, but it was hard to simply turn off the attraction. She’d missed him.
He stood by the window and gave her a smile.
“Griff, how are you?” She put down her keys and stood there, as awkward as a teenager. The dog bounded into the room, excited to have another person to boss around.
“Who’s this?” Griff’s brows knitted in concern.
“A neighbor’s dog, who was being cared for by another neighbor while she’s away. But she had to go to the hospital, the second neighbor, that is. So I’m taking care of him until she’s released.” Enough, already. Stop babbling and let him take the lead.
Griff kneeled down and held out his hand. Bird trotted over and took a sniff, then allowed him to scratch his neck. If the dog could have purred, he would have. Of course Bird loved Griff. Griff charmed everyone.
She sat on the arm of the couch and crossed her arms. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine, we’re fine.” He stood up and put his hands into his pockets.
“Miranda’s doing better?” she ventured.
“We found a place for her, a school that we hope will help. And a therapist.”
“That’s good news.” She straightened her shoulders, hoping to look strong and determined.
His face crumpled. “I miss you.”
Her heart twisted in pain, but a small part of her lit up with triumph. He was miserable. She wished she could read his mind and know what was lurking there, instead of feeling it out, syllable by syllable.
She walked over to him and held him close. He was the first man she’d loved in a grown-up, serious way. He buried his face in her neck and sobbed. After a minute, he stepped back and wiped his tears with the meaty pad of his palm, like a little boy.
He sat on the window ledge and pulled her down beside him and rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry—this is so hard.”
“I know.” Or did she? “What is?”
“There’ve been some changes since the last time we talked. I hadn’t realized Connie had already made plans.”
An icy shiver shot down her spine at the sound of the woman’s name on his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Griff.”
“I spoke too soon before. It turns out that we need to be in the city, as part of Miranda’s treatment.”
“Still, I have no idea what you’re saying.” As a politician, he was good at being obtuse. But he’d never used his evil powers on her before.
He stopped rubbing her arm and looked away. “You’ll have to find another place to live.”
He wasn’t coming back. And he was kicking her out. Shit.
“No way. You said I had some time, right?”
“I’m afraid not. The school and the therapist are here in the city, and Connie wants to move in right away.”
Panic rose up in her throat, a bilious, terrible taste. “She wants to move in here?”
“It’s what’s best for the family.”
He was echoing his wife. His ex-wife. She imagined the woman saying it as he got into his car to drive into the city, leaning in to give him a good-bye kiss.
“You’re saying that I have to move out, now?”
“Not now, not exactly, but in a few days. She’s having some furniture delivered.”
He stopped short and she could see him watching her reaction, hoping she had missed the irony. But Rose hadn’t missed it. And she was halfway to rage already.
“So now you’re decorating the place? After months and months of being too busy, you’re letting her swoop in and take over.” The anger was a giant relief. She’d been wondering why she’d felt little other than numb panic about Griff’s defection. But the enormity of what he’d done, and had been doing behind her back for the past few months, suddenly hit hard. In a strange twist, her fury was evidence of the enormous loss of him in her life.
“I am sorry, Rose.” He shook his head.
“Goddammit, Griff. You’re letting her take over your life again. Is that what you want? Maybe that’s what I should have done, furnished the fucking apartment without any input from you. Then maybe you’d still be here.”
“It’s not about the furniture; it’s about the kids.”
“No, it’s about your life. How are you going to be a good father when you’re back in what you yourself called a ‘toxic relationship’? Think of yourself, of us. We had so many plans.”
He nodded. “We did. I love you so much, but maybe I’m too old to start another relationship.”
Connie’s words again, she was sure of it. Yet he’d admitted he still loved her. She softened her tone. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“What about Maddy’s? Until you get yourself straightened out.”
She couldn’t believe it. “How about you put me up in a hotel until I figure things out? You can’t toss me out on the street, not after you’re the one who insisted I give up my place.”
He’d begged her to live with him. They had been at a rooftop bar somewhere in SoHo, music and bodies and heat, and all she wanted was to have him near her, as close as possible. It was all she could do to not wrap herself around him while they raced in a cab back to her place. She was still attached to that version of Griff, and not ready to accept Griff 2.0. How could someone change so suddenly?
“I didn’t realize at the time how ill Miranda was. I’m doing this for my daughter. At least until she’s well.”
“But you see the situation you put me in, don’t you?” She counted it out on her fingers. “Because of you, I gave up my apartment and took the WordMerge job along with a salary cut. And now I’m learning my father needs a higher level of care.”
“I’m sorry about your dad. I really am. But you can’t put your job move on me. You said you were sick of television, ready to do something different. I encouraged you, but you were the one who made that decision. Not me.”
She wasn’t going to quibble over semantics, but his interpretation of events was pretty damn self-serving. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.
“I’m going to run out of money fast, Griff. What the hell am I going to do?” Her throat closed up, constricting when she wanted to let out a roar.
“Connie insists on holding the purse strings.” He sighed. “But let me see what I can do. I know I owe you that much.”
Oh, Lord. If Connie was already running their joint finances, Griff was well and truly gone. Rose’s tamped-down rage surged again.
“Get the hell out. I don’t want anything from you. You’re a liar, Griff. A fucking liar, a cheater, and a terrible human being.”
The futility of her words washed over her and she ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She waited until she heard the closing of the front door before she let the sobs wash over her.
Two days later, Griff texted Rose to say Connie would be heading over that evening. Rose left work early and packed her clothes into four suitcases, along with her toiletries and shoes, while Bird watched from his perch on the bed. If she had to pick a word for the expression on the dog’s face, it would be bemused. As if he knew all along it wasn’t going to work out with Griff, and perhaps if Rose didn’t expect so much out of life, she wouldn’t be in this situation. All Bird needed was some food and water and three good walks a day. Why did Rose ask so much?
Before Griff came into her life, she’d been independent and strong, and she refused to let him bring her down now. She’d crash at Maddy’s until she could find an affordable place, ask Tyler for a raise to cover the additional expenses, and take care of herself. Too bad the door had closed firmly behind her when she’d left the network, with its high salaries and generous benefits. Otherwise she might have considered going back.