The Battered Heiress Blues - By Laurie Van Dermark Page 0,38
forward, but remained guarded, arms folded across his chest.
“I should have never walked out that door. I should have chosen you over your father. Love is more valuable than a job…”
He cut me off. “You’re being unreasonable. Your demands required patience and you weren’t willing to wait. Where’s my apology?” He tried to restrain his anger, but he was mad as hell. “You make an ultimatum, become dissatisfied with the speed in which it is being carried out, and decide to punish me with that idiot Jackson. -Sleeping with someone else kind of made using the door a necessity, love.”
“You were gone long before the door, Tru. –Long before Jackson. He was a convenient excuse to walk away and have us both- me and your precious job.”
We were in each other’s face now.
“What does that mean?”
“You knew my love belonged to you- you alone. Jackson’s entrance just insured that you could work for my father and still have me in the corner pining away. You’re selfish. I see that now.”
“And you’re so perfect…the girl dropping her dress for the next best thing?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?”
“I didn’t drop my dress for Jackson that night. We were drunk. He was so plastered that he couldn’t perform a sex act on a blow up doll. He walked me home and passed out on the sofa, waiting for the car I called to take him downtown. Who is lacking the faith now, love?”
“You never told me.” He had a look of confusion on this face. The incident he’d used to solidify his cowardice had evaporated.
“You never asked. It wasn’t important enough to you. I wasn’t important enough to you. Just go home. Go back to New York where you’re loved and adored.”
“So you don’t love me now? You’re giving me back the ring. That’s your answer.”
“I don’t love being alone. I don’t love coming in second place. I don’t love attention followed by desertion. I deserve better than that. I deserve better than you.”
He was quiet now and thoughtful. My words, though honest, had injured him. He put his hand on my arm and stared deep inside me.
“You’re not alone. I’m here.”
“You’re here and I’ve never felt more alone. My life has been complicated and not all together devoid of drama, but it’s been a truthful journey. Our relationship is smoke and mirrors. I can’t count on you. I used to think that I was the one that needed to be rescued, but I see that’s just not the case anymore. I’m strong. My sadness doesn’t alter my strength. I have flaws, but they make me a fine mess. Someone once told me that. We used to laugh at those flaws.”
“We still can. Don’t make a rash decision. Not this time. Take the week. Take some time to think things through, for Christ’s sake. You’re being irrational, like always.”
“Tru, you’re the love of my life, but I can live without you, even if I don’t want to. Walk. Bask in the glow of your professional success. Gain power. Make your fortune. I may still be alone twenty years from now, but I’ll have lived an authentic life. I wouldn’t have spent precious years chasing an illusion. Just go away. We’re through. You’ve never been more unattractive to me then right now. Fear doesn’t become you.”
My dismissal of him made Henry visibly angry. I started to walk away, but he grabbed me and pulled me back harshly, taking my breath from me. The desperate aggressiveness in his actions and tone really annoyed me. I brought my arms up through the center and turned them outward, breaking his hold on me. He pointed his finger in my face and began yelling at me.
“You could use a healthy dose of fear. Flying by the seat of your pants without considering the consequences has caused you to lose a great deal, don’t you think?”
“You’re an ass.”
He answered under his breath, though still audible. “You’re the pain in my ass.”
I understood what he was implying and it made me sad that he would drag Connor into our argument. If he wanted to play the blame game, he was about to get a heaping dose.
“Well, I’ve been waiting for that- for someone to affirm that I killed my own baby. I just never thought it would come from you. Don’t you think that I blame myself every day for Connor’s death? Don’t you think I wonder, every day, every second of every minute, what would