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“I can’t be the only one maintaining this relationship. Like… fuck this.”
She stood in one motion and slid her bag off the back of the chair. “If we
were married for real, I would have divorced you already.”
With that, she strode out the door just this side of running. I caught up
to her on the sidewalk.
“Ella!”
“Go back to work!” she called over her shoulder.
I got in front of her, blocking the way. “Don’t make someone call the
cops on me.”
“Then get out of the way.”
“Talk to me.”
“Why?”
Because I can help you.
I can make you happy.
I can give you what you want.
“Look,” I said, “we’ll start the buyout. Tomorrow, when markets open,
we’ll start.”
Her shoulders relaxed, but her expression tightened to hold back what
she wouldn’t say. She didn’t believe me. She thought I was lying to shut her
up.
“Swear it,” she said finally.
That was all she’d wanted. The deal. No more. I should have been
relieved. Instead, I felt like a man who’d grasped for some precious
unknown object, only to find it was never there.
“I swear.” I held up a pinkie.
“Fine.” She hooked her pinkie in mine and pulled, but I didn’t let go.
“Are you sure that’s all you have on your mind?”
“Let’s go back before Mandy freaks out, okay?”
We pulled our pinkies apart.
After lunch, I went back to Crowne. Ella went to her studio, or home. I
knew now she didn’t want to be at either.
When I got back to the house, Ella was in her room behind a door we
kept closed.