a commitment. That was a shared undertaking. It hurt. It . . . it hurt almost worse than knowing Bobby was sleeping with Zayna.
“I looked at Dad, and he shrugged. He shrugged. Zayna looked all embarrassed and took the puppy into the bedroom, and Dad leaned across and took my hands”—her voice was a snarl now—“and he said, ‘If I hadn’t done this, Gabby, I’d be dead.’ ”
I gasped, the pain as sharp as Moonshot’s teeth clamping on my arm.
“Dead?!” Gabby shrieked. Gingersnap fled from the room. “Living with us was killing him? What the fuck does that mean?” The profanity washed over me, inconsequential at this moment. “‘If I hadn’t done this, I’d be dead,’ ” she repeated. “I got up and walked out. I just left.”
I hugged her tighter. I whispered into her hair, “I’m so sorry.”
I held her while she sobbed, back heaving. I wanted to muster some fury, but I felt flattened.
Soon she was able to speak again. “But, Mom, he didn’t do anything. He didn’t follow me, he didn’t try to explain. He just let me walk out and he stayed in there with Zayna.” She spat Zayna’s name as if it tasted bad. “I had to wait, like, five minutes for the damn elevator, and he never even opened the apartment door to look down the hall! And he went to his birthday party! I sat in the parking lot and followed him to Tanti Baci. I mean, does he even care about me?”
After a few staccato breaths, she said, “I . . . I’m sorry I lied. I just . . . I didn’t want you to know . . . you know, about Zayna.”
“But, sweetie, I saw him with her at the restaurant. She quit at the clinic. I already knew.”
“I know, but . . .” She burst into tears again.
“What, baby?” I had to hold her a good long while. My injured arm grew numb, my fingers cold, but I would have stayed this way all night.
She sniffed, her anger making her words hard. “It was one thing to think he was having some stupid, disgusting affair. But he left us. He left us to live with her in some tiny little apartment. He left Max and Biscuit and Gingersnap to buy a new puppy. From a pet store,” she added, saying it the way someone might say pedophile. “He chose that over us.”
“Not us,” I whispered. “Not you. This is just between me and him.”
“He’s not here, is he?” she yelled.
I absorbed that. I ran my fingers through her hair and she let me. I idly braided and unbraided her hair. “I’m so sorry you’re stuck in this mess your parents made.”
She jerked away from me. “God, Mom! How did you make this mess? He left. He left us for a girl practically my age. Listen to yourself!” Disdain glittered, feverlike, in her eyes.
Gerald wandered into the room, exploring the perimeter in his jerky, marionette-like gait.
“You don’t really want to break up with Tyler, do you?” I asked, as gently as I could.
“That’s none of your business, Mom,” she said, but it was halfhearted.
“Your happiness is always my business.”
I tried to stroke her hair again, but she pulled away.
She got off the bed and shuffled some papers from one stack to another. I watched her, amazed when Gerald jumped up on the bed and butted his head under my hand for me to pet him. I cautiously scratched his ears.
“I’m never going to be where you are,” she said, her back to me. “No man is ever going to wreck me. I won’t let him.”
She may as well have swung the lamp at my head—I was about as prepared for that action as I was for those cutting words. She thought I was wrecked?
I stuttered, trying to form a coherent response. Before I could find any traction, though, she swiveled to face me. “You know I blew my debate yesterday.”
I blinked. “You think I’m wrecked?”
“I sucked,” she said, ignoring me. “I blew it.”
Was she going to pretend she hadn’t just said that?
“I blew it,” she said. “We were using gay marriage again for our affirmative rounds, should’ve been a shoo-in. I went totally off topic, ranting about how marriage is a worthless, archaic institution that obviously doesn’t work, and how instead of granting gays the right to marry we ought to institute a complete marriage ban not allowing anyone to do anything so damaging.”
For years I’d gritted my teeth as