The Dollhouse - Fiona Davis Page 0,33

name on his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Griff.”

“I spoke too soon before. It turns out that we need to be in the city, as part of Miranda’s treatment.”

“Still, I have no idea what you’re saying.” As a politician, he was good at being obtuse. But he’d never used his evil powers on her before.

He stopped rubbing her arm and looked away. “You’ll have to find another place to live.”

He wasn’t coming back. And he was kicking her out. Shit.

“No way. You said I had some time, right?”

“I’m afraid not. The school and the therapist are here in the city, and Connie wants to move in right away.”

Panic rose up in her throat, a bilious, terrible taste. “She wants to move in here?”

“It’s what’s best for the family.”

He was echoing his wife. His ex-wife. She imagined the woman saying it as he got into his car to drive into the city, leaning in to give him a good-bye kiss.

“You’re saying that I have to move out, now?”

“Not now, not exactly, but in a few days. She’s having some furniture delivered.”

He stopped short and she could see him watching her reaction, hoping she had missed the irony. But Rose hadn’t missed it. And she was halfway to rage already.

“So now you’re decorating the place? After months and months of being too busy, you’re letting her swoop in and take over.” The anger was a giant relief. She’d been wondering why she’d felt little other than numb panic about Griff’s defection. But the enormity of what he’d done, and had been doing behind her back for the past few months, suddenly hit hard. In a strange twist, her fury was evidence of the enormous loss of him in her life.

“I am sorry, Rose.” He shook his head.

“Goddammit, Griff. You’re letting her take over your life again. Is that what you want? Maybe that’s what I should have done, furnished the fucking apartment without any input from you. Then maybe you’d still be here.”

“It’s not about the furniture; it’s about the kids.”

“No, it’s about your life. How are you going to be a good father when you’re back in what you yourself called a ‘toxic relationship’? Think of yourself, of us. We had so many plans.”

He nodded. “We did. I love you so much, but maybe I’m too old to start another relationship.”

Connie’s words again, she was sure of it. Yet he’d admitted he still loved her. She softened her tone. “Where am I supposed to go?”

“What about Maddy’s? Until you get yourself straightened out.”

She couldn’t believe it. “How about you put me up in a hotel until I figure things out? You can’t toss me out on the street, not after you’re the one who insisted I give up my place.”

He’d begged her to live with him. They had been at a rooftop bar somewhere in SoHo, music and bodies and heat, and all she wanted was to have him near her, as close as possible. It was all she could do to not wrap herself around him while they raced in a cab back to her place. She was still attached to that version of Griff, and not ready to accept Griff 2.0. How could someone change so suddenly?

“I didn’t realize at the time how ill Miranda was. I’m doing this for my daughter. At least until she’s well.”

“But you see the situation you put me in, don’t you?” She counted it out on her fingers. “Because of you, I gave up my apartment and took the WordMerge job along with a salary cut. And now I’m learning my father needs a higher level of care.”

“I’m sorry about your dad. I really am. But you can’t put your job move on me. You said you were sick of television, ready to do something different. I encouraged you, but you were the one who made that decision. Not me.”

She wasn’t going to quibble over semantics, but his interpretation of events was pretty damn self-serving. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.

“I’m going to run out of money fast, Griff. What the hell am I going to do?” Her throat closed up, constricting when she wanted to let out a roar.

“Connie insists on holding the purse strings.” He sighed. “But let me see what I can do. I know I owe you that much.”

Oh, Lord. If Connie was already running their joint finances, Griff was well and truly gone. Rose’s tamped-down rage surged again.

“Get the hell out. I don’t