Claire massaged her temples with her fingers, wishing she could just go back to that night two months ago when she saw Gavin getting the lap dance. She wished they’d had an honest conversation then and that she’d never gotten caught up in all this.
Claire looked out into the parking lot and saw Gavin’s truck pull in. She looked over at Kimmy and put her arms around her.
“Thank you for everything. You’ve been a real friend.” With Kimmy’s eyes heavy on her, Claire stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked away.
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CLAIRE CONFESSED EVERYTHING in the truck to Gavin—how she’d seen him getting a lap dance, how she’d confronted Kimmy, and how the two girls found a way to help each other. Gavin sat in silence, his jaw clenching harder at her every word. She told him how she happened to be at the strip club at the wrong time and how the whole thing was a big misunderstanding.
He continued to drive in silence. Claire nervously asked, “Aren’t you gonna say something—anything?”
Gavin finally turned his head toward her and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “You want me to say something?” he asked, livid. “Here’s what I have to say: I am so disappointed in you, Claire. We have a reputation to uphold in this town and you almost ruined everything for us.”
A reputation to uphold? Just like that, Claire broke, her months of frustrations coming to the surface. “You’re being so hypocritical, Gavin! You know what you did, but now you’re holding me to a different standard than you hold yourself?” She scoffed. “What you did was way worse than what I did. You betrayed me and our marriage. I, on the other hand, was trying to help us—I wanted you to feel attracted to me again.” Her heart thumped quickly in her chest. “But you know what? I don’t care what you think anymore.”
For the first time, she understood completely what Kimmy was talking about when she said it wasn’t really about what the guys thought—it was about her, it was about how she felt about herself. And right then, as she called out Gavin on what he really was, she felt empowered, just like Kimmy said she would.
They stared at each other in heated silence. Finally, Gavin spoke, an eerie calmness in his voice. “I’m willing to work on it if you are.”
She knew what he was saying. But could they do it? Forgive each other and move forward? It wouldn’t be the same naive relationship. She thought about their perfect daughter, their perfect house, and the congregation she loved so much. She didn’t want to disrupt all that she had worked so hard to build, did she? But deep down, she knew the answer, the one she’d been trying so adamantly to deny. “I’m tired of working on things for you. I’m ready to work on things for myself.”
“What are you saying?” His tone was urgent.
With a heavy heart, she said, “I think we need some time apart.” The words echoed throughout the quiet truck.
“Do you want . . . a divorce?” Gavin asked, his voice breaking.
“I don’t know,” Claire said. “But I do know we can’t go on like this. If we have any chance to make it, we both have to look hard at ourselves and figure out if this is what we still want.”
Gavin stared at her with barely contained rage. She knew how it would look to his parishioners when word got out that they’d separated, and he wasn’t used to her standing up to him. But he must have seen the resolve in her eyes, because after he dropped her off to get her car at The Saddle, he screeched out of the parking lot.
Later that night, after Gavin had packed a bag and left for his parents’ house, Claire pulled out her phone and tweeted her last message from Gavin’s account: @Pastor_Gavin: “The sun will rise tomorrow, and you will, too.”
44
madison
MADISON CURLED UP with her Chucks on the seat and leaned her head on the window. The stench of a fellow passenger’s onion sandwich made her want to vomit, or maybe it was Cash . . . or the fact that her dad was dying . . . or the gin and tonic from the night before. She didn’t know for sure. But her stomach roiled as she sat watching the rain pour down outside. A bird flew by, dropping its business on her window.
“Shit just follows me everywhere . . .” she said under her breath, shaking her head.
Her phone buzzed on the seat next to her. In the split second before she picked it up, she secretly hoped she’d see Cash’s name. Maybe he realized what an ass he was being, she thought. An apology would be nice. She took a deep breath and braced herself. But it was just a weather alert.
She scolded herself for being foolish and holding out hope where there was none. Then she shut her eyes, wishing her mind would quiet itself enough to sleep. She hadn’t gotten any the night before. Her mind had spun restlessly, churning up old memories of her dad, like how when she was little, she’d walk behind him as he mowed the yard, fascinated by the little path of freshly cut grass he left in his wake. Or the time when she was six, and they made a dollhouse out of a refrigerator box. He let her use his camo duct tape for the wallpaper, and they made curtains out of one of his old black T-shirts.
“This is the most interesting dollhouse I’ve ever seen,” he had told her, scratching his chin and admiring their work.
He was such a good man. He gave to charity even though he didn’t have a lot, he went to work, even when he was feeling bad, and he never missed an opportunity to make Madison feel special, even when she felt like she didn’t deserve it.
She wondered what he was doing now, if he was thinking of her and remembering the same things she was. She didn’t know what to expect when she got to the hospice center. Would he be on his last breath? Hell, would she even make it in time to say good-bye? God, please let him see me and know I made it. She didn’t want his last memory of her to be her leaving.
As the bus rolled down I-59, Madison tried to understand why someone like him would be taken out of this world when such mean and selfish people got to stay. It just didn’t make sense.
She leaned her head back on the plush seat. Death isn’t fair. But she knew it was inevitable. She couldn’t help but wonder what her life would look like when she neared the end. Would she be old? Would she be married? Would she be looking back on a life spent with someone like Cash, who caused her so much anger, or someone like her dad, who made her feel loved?
George. Her mind flashed to him. She wondered if she hadn’t left him, would he have been by her side right now, holding her hand, supporting her through all of this? She closed her eyes, her heart heavy with all she’d already lost and everything she still had left to lose.
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