My entire weekend was devoted to buying things for my apartment and making it feel lived in, just in case Grace came over.
When I woke up Monday morning, I could already feel the anger boiling over in me as I prepared to see Elizabeth at work. I went for a run to blow off some steam, took a shower, and headed to the office. I saw Scott in the hallway as I headed to my cubicle.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” I asked.
“What’s up, man?”
“Can we go into your office?”
“Sure.”
We sat across from each other at his desk. “I can’t be in this office anymore. Can I work from home?”
Scott leaned back in his hair. “Bro, you’ve hit me with a lot of requests in the last couple of years.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t handle this office bullshit.”
“You and Elizabeth made the decision to leave the field and settle down here.” He arched his eyebrows, as if to say, Remember?
“Scott, I’m going to be frank with you. It’s not about working in an office. I think it would be in everyone’s best interest that I not work in the same building as her.”
“Really? I thought you handled the divorce surprisingly well. And it’s been over a year already. Are you really that hung up on her?”
“New information has surfaced. I can’t work with that psychopath anymore.” I smiled, which probably made me look like the psychopath.
“Come on, Matt, let’s be reasonable.”
“I’ll go freelance, Scott. I did it before, and I won a goddamn Pulitzer.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “Don’t fucking threaten me, Matt.”
“I’m not threatening you, and I’m not going to go into detail about what she did. Suffice it to say, she ruined my life and I can’t work with her anymore, okay? And I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to not want to work with my pregnant ex-wife and her new husband. I put in a fucking request months ago and I’m still here. It’s either her or me.”
He signed heavily. “We want you on our team, but you know Elizabeth’s not going anywhere. She’s pregnant; she’d sue our asses off if we tried to get rid of her.”
I threw my hands up. “I don’t care, man. I’ll walk.”
Scott swiveled around in his seat while I stared him down. He ran his hand over his shiny bald head and then crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. “Okay, you can work from home. We never do this, by the way—I need you to know that you’re getting special treatment here. But it’s only until we get you going on something else. You’ll need an assistant to be your proxy at the production meetings if you really can’t stand to drag your ass back into this building. Maybe Kitty?” He grinned.
I stood up and clapped once. “That’s a great fucking plan, Scott. I love you.” I walked over, grabbed his face, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m outta here. Oh, and I’ll find my own assistant,” I called over my shoulder as I left his office.
Moments later, I was cheerfully strutting down the hall with all my belongings in a cardboard box when I ran into Elizabeth. Just remember, Matt: if you kill her, you’ll go to jail.
“What are you doing with all your stuff?” She put her hand on her hip, blocking my path.
“Move.”
“Why are you being so mean to me? I’m pregnant, you jerk.”
“I’m aware, and so is every other person with their vision intact. And where I’m going is none of your business. Outta my way.”
“Did you get fired?”
As desperate as I was not to engage her, I couldn’t control myself. “I know about Grace’s calls and letters and how you hid them from me. Thank you for that.”
She rolled her eyes and looked to the ceiling. “Oh, for God’s sake, I knew this would come up. Look, when you came back to New York in ’97 and she was gone, you were a fucking mess, Matt. I had to pick up your sorry ass and carry you for years. You think you’d have this job if it weren’t for me? You were an incipient alcoholic, fumbling around like a loser. I saved you from destroying yourself. And she wasn’t here for you.”
I laughed. “Incipient alcoholic? Is that the narrative you created for yourself to justify your deception? That’s such bullshit. You and I never would have gotten married if I knew she was trying to get in touch with me.”
“Do you know how pathetic that makes you sound?”
“You always have to get your way, no matter what the cost. You wanted me, so you did what you had to do. You wanted a baby, and I wasn’t around to give one to you, so you went out and found the next willing participant, even at the expense of our marriage. You’re the pathetic one, Elizabeth. Not me.”
She was tongue-tied. “I thought . . . I thought you loved me.” This was a typical fighting tactic for Elizabeth. She could do a 180 from angry and accusatory to self-pitying in one second flat.
“I loved the person I thought you were, but I realize now she never existed. I have to go.” I tried to move past her but she blocked my way again.
“Wait, Matt.”