Every night I’d spent here, I’d been thankful that Rick had opted for a smaller bed. Tonight, I wished he’d indulged in a gigantic one. Maybe one with enough room for the two of us and this unrelenting silence that had wedged itself between us. If we were going to sleep this far apart, we might as well not feel each other’s body heat. But what was a miserable night without feeling the presence of someone I wished I could be holding but was too afraid to touch?
We’d barely said two words the rest of the night. The wine had only depressed me, and it must’ve had the same effect on him, since he was pretty sedate after dinner. Golden Girls couldn’t get a laugh out of either of us. Finally, we’d given in and gone to bed, and nothing in the world cut as deep as being this close to him and this far from him at the same time.
Fuck. This was stupid. We hadn’t fought. One of us hadn’t wronged the other. But the air throbbed with the kind of tension that followed a screaming match. A metaphorical toothache that had shown up, taken residence and refused to be ignored.
I didn’t toss or turn all night because I didn’t want him to know how restless I was. He didn’t move either, but he sure as fuck wasn’t asleep. Knowing him this well was a double-edged sword—I knew his breathing patterns. I knew when he was asleep, when he was staring at the ceiling, when frustration had him hanging by a thread. Sometimes he drifted off, and sometimes I did too, but when I’d come around again, he’d be awake, and only a few minutes had passed according to the bedside clock. This was going to be one long night.
Maybe the shock just needed to wear off. I’d dropped the bomb on him tonight. It needed to sink in for him. I needed to make sense of it myself.
But deep down, I was sure this elephant had set up shop in every room we’d ever be in together, and it wasn’t leaving until we found a way around the ultimatum.
I racked my brain all night but came up empty. Every potential solution promised to make things worse than they already were. I had nothing.
At six, Rick’s alarm brought curses from both of us. He was already awake, and so was I. Neither of us spoke. We showered separately. Brushed our teeth in silence. Dressed in silence. Walked downstairs in silence.
And then we stood in silence in his kitchen, drinking coffee and staring at the floor. Well, I stared at the floor. I didn’t know where he was looking, and couldn’t bring myself to find out. Instead, I focused on getting some caffeine into my system and not nodding off where I stood.
He spoke first. “So what happens now?”
“Which part?” I lifted my gaze. “My job or…”
We locked eyes. Or us?
He shifted his weight. “Let’s start there.”
“I’m not really sure, to be honest. Part of me wants to walk in there, tell them to shove it up their asses and leave. But then what?” I set my coffee cup down and pushed it away. “It’d be liberating for a minute, but I’d be screwing myself. I wouldn’t even qualify for unemployment at that point.”
“Have you considered a lawyer?”
“Absolutely. But what will that even accomplish? A lawsuit could take months or even years. I still have to eat and pay for my kids to go to school. Not to mention attorney fees.”
“Let me pay for—”
“No.” I put up a hand. “Out of the question.”
“Jon, you shouldn’t have to go in and work in that environment.” He put his own coffee cup down. “These people are literally telling you to fuck me or lose your job.”
I winced. “I know.”
“I don’t want to face them either. They’re—”
“If you pull your contracts, everyone there is fucked.”
Rick pursed his lips. “But what about you? I can’t give money to people who treat you that way.”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I just…don’t fucking know.”
He watched me silently for a moment. “Let’s be honest about this, though. Now that we both know, it’s hard to ignore.”
“Yeah.” I kneaded the back of my neck. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it at all.”
Another silent moment went by, and all the while, his gaze was fixed on my fingers. Any other time, I’d have fully expected him to offer to rub my neck and shoulders for me, but he didn’t. I didn’t have to ask why.
All at once, he released a long breath, and his shoulders dropped. “Let’s…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know if I can do this, to be honest.”
I wanted nothing more than to beg him to reconsider, but all I could do was push out a breath and slump against the counter. “I don’t know if I can either.”
Silence fell. It dropped itself between us, pushed us further and further apart with each passing second.
“So what do we do? About…this?” I asked after a while, and regretted it as soon as I did.
“Don’t ask questions,” my father had warned me when I was a kid, “unless you know you want the answers.”
Rick met my gaze. Immediately, my heart sank. Like so many times before, the answer was there in his eyes, clear as day, and I knew the words before he spoke them: “Maybe we should take some time. Figure out where to go from here.”
“So…a break.”
“I guess?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t really see any other way.” His eyebrows knitted together.