they would land, or how much they would hurt. All he knew was that everything inside him ached terribly, and now that he’d recovered the power of speech, he was using words as missiles lobbed at the nearest target—the woman he loved.
“That hardly seemed to be the time or place either. But since you’re reviewing chapter and verse and naming all the times I saw you, you should know that I actually did plan to tell you on Saturday night when we went out to Alvin Ailey.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked, as if he’d caught her red-handed.
“Seriously? You’re seriously asking me? You left town that night. You sprang it on me after the show that you were leaving town in an hour. That’s why,” she said, parking her hands on her hips.
His eyes flared with anger. “Are we going to go over this again, Shannon?” He was sick and tired of having every mistake he’d ever made boomeranged back at him. “Can you ever fucking give me break?”
She stared at him, jutting out her chin. “Excuse me. This isn’t about cutting you a break. I was just saying that when you’re getting on a plane would have been a really shitty time to tell you. Think about it. Is that honestly when you wish I’d have tapped you on the shoulder and said, ‘Hey, I know you’re off to New York for a really important business meeting, but I’ve been meaning to tell you I had your baby and lost your baby. Have a nice flight.’ Is it?”
She had a point, but he could barely see it just then. He was filled with anger, brimming with self-loathing. He hardly knew what to do with all this horribleness, so he erected more walls. “This whole time you’ve been asking me to be honest with you. And I was. I was honest about everything,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “And you have never been able to honest with me. It’s like pulling teeth to get you to tell me anything.”
“That is bullshit,” she said, her voice breaking with tears and anger. “And you know that. I am more open with you than anyone in my entire life. You just expect it from day one. And I’m so sorry I’m less than perfect at finding the best moment to tell you about the tragic fucking circumstances that have trailed behind me.”
He tossed his hands in the air and huffed. “There you go again. It’s always about you. It’s always about the shit you’ve been through.”
A fresh stream of tears rained down her cheeks. “This is what I meant the other night on the phone. That you’re going to resent me, and you already are.” She swiped her hand across her cheeks, wiping away the tears. They seemed to be falling faster now, relentlessly, streaking down her face. “I guess it’s nice not to have to deal with shit, isn’t it? But maybe if you could think about it, you’d realize it wasn’t so easy to tell you on our first date in college that my mother was in prison. That she sent me letters that ripped me to pieces. That prison made her go insane.
“And I’m very sorry that I didn’t tell you at lunch last week that I had a child, and lost a child. And that I miss him terribly and I imagine what he was like, and if he would have been like you. If he’d have had the best parts of you, like your heart and your humor, and the way you love. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you that right away. And I’m sorry that one of the reasons I wished he was alive is that I would have had a part of you then. I’m sorry I didn’t have the words to tell you all of that so eloquently at lunch, or in the photo booth, or the elevator, or at your club. And I’m sorry I’m doing a shitty job now. Most of all, I’m sorry that you’re finding it in you to belittle the fact that you’ve had a perfect life and mine has been problematic.” Every single word she said cut him to the bone. “But I guess now you know how it feels to lose something. It’s pretty awful, isn’t it?”
He nodded and clamped his lips shut. He swallowed, and the lump in his throat was like a jagged rock. It cut him to pieces, and he had no clue