“A chance to test out your father’s reaction.”
She laughed. “Are you that afraid of him?”
“I like to think of it as wary, not afraid.” Sure, Bart held no real power in the company, but the board of directors didn’t know that. Six years of mind-bending, soul-stealing work. I’d proven myself valuable, but Bart was fickle, unpredictable, and moody. If he went to the board, my career could be in jeopardy, and I would really prefer not to go job-hunting anytime soon.
But that wasn’t why I was concerned. Clare’s father already seemed to think that whatever his daughter did was exactly the wrong thing. He would take the news of a divorce better if I told him. It’s a sad thing when a father trusts an employee more than his own child. Especially since his child had never actually done anything wrong. Other than not being who she really was for his sake.
Sunday dinner with the Chalmers was the same as every other time I couldn’t get out of it. The only difference was Clare’s hand on my thigh throughout. There was nothing seductive about her grip, though. Her fingers dug into my leg from fear and nervousness. If only it was another woman’s hand for another reason, in any another place but this one.
When Clare’s stepsister, her stepmother, and Bart’s plates were taken away, Clare squeezed so hard I’d have bruises tomorrow. It was ridiculous for her to feel like this, and the sooner I got it over with, the better for her psyche, and the less blood I’d lose through the puncture wounds she’d make any second now.
“There’s something I need to tell you—all of you.” Once I had everyone’s attention, I cleared my throat. “Clare and I—”
“I’m gay,” she said.
All eyes beelined to her, including mine.
“I’m gay. I’ve always been gay”—her gaze darted from gape-mouthed family member to gape-mouthed family member—“and I always will be gay”—then finally moved to her father—“and I’m sorry I lied to you for so long.”
No one said anything. But, to be fair, many of them seemed preoccupied with the napkins in their laps or the amazingly quick way their wine glasses had emptied. Clare looked at me and blew out a breath. Telling her she’d just made a colossal mistake would hardly be helpful, so with my eyes and a squeeze of the hand still denting my thigh, I tried to convey how proud of her I was. Because it was true. And I knew part of the reason she’d done it was because of me.
With a nervous smile, she said, “I know you must be shocked. But honestly, that was a lot easier to say than I thought it would be.”
“I don’t ever want to see you in this house again.” Her father’s tone was flat, dead.
Clare’s smile melted. “And that was exactly as hurtful as I thought it would be.”
“Cla—”
She cut me off with a look, placed her napkin on her plate and stood, staring at her father. “I’ve been your daughter for twenty-seven years. Gina has been your daughter for five, and in that time, you’ve paid for, and supported her through eight stints in rehab.”
“Don’t bring me into it,” her stepsister snapped.
“I have nothing against you, Gina. I’m just asking for the same consideration.”
“Maybe you’d get it if you weren’t a dyke.”
“Very mature.”
And the laundry list cometh. My groan went unheard as a flurry of raised voices of varying pitches commenced. Every atrocity committed by a family member in the past thirty years was thrown out without a single one of them being heard. The only good it did was make me a little more grateful for my own family. Which, in itself, was disturbing.
“Stop it. Please, everyone, stop.” I stood and put my arm on Clare’s shoulder. “Calm down. No one is trying to hurt anyone else. If we all calm down and talk...”
Everyone suddenly shut up. The direction they were looking brought me to the reason.
When Bart threw his napkin into the ring, or onto the table in this case, people paid attention. His eyes were stone-cold, aiming straight at me. Me. Not any of the people shouting insults and slander. Me. “Did you know?”
“Yes,” I said at the same moment Clare said, “No.”
“Yes, Bart. I knew.”
“You can clean out your office tomorrow.”
As I nodded, Clare grabbed my hand, leaning around me. “I had no intention of telling anyone who isn’t at this table right now. But if you fire Hayden, I’ll take a full-page ad out in the Chronicle. The headline will say, ‘I’m here, and I’m queer.’ Explain that to your hate-filled friends, Dad.”
“It’s okay,” I whispered, taking her hand. “Really.” Then I looked at my ex-in-laws and said, “You’re all intelligent people, so I’m a little confused how you’ve completely failed to grasp what a wonderful woman Clare is. All I hope for now is that you realize it before it’s too late to have her in your life. Thank you for dinner.” Then I pulled my wife away from the table.
Just before we walked outside, Clare turned back and yelled, “Oh, and by the way, we’re getting divorced.” When she looked at me, there were tears pooling in her eyes. “I sure told them, huh?”
“Yes, you did. Brilliantly.” I put my arm around her shoulders and led her away from her nightmare.
When we got into the car, she said, “I’m so sorry.”
I was reminded why I liked her so much—in the middle of possibly the worst night of her life, the one she’d been dreading for a decade, she was more worried about me than herself.
“You needed to tell them. The way they reacted is on them.” I glanced at her and smirked. “Your timing probably could have been better, though. Next time, wait until they’re drunk.”
“You always give such good advice,” she said smiling. “Someday, I might just start following it. So, what are you going to do now?”
“Me? Uh…I’m not sure.” If Bart went to the board and lied his ass off, I might have to look for another job. He’d never tell them the real reason he wanted me gone. “But don’t put that ad in the newspaper. It will hurt you a lot more than it will hurt him.”
She nodded, wiping her cheeks. “I’ve always known how he’d react if I ever told him. But I’m glad I did it, and I’m glad you were with me.” She was silent for the rest of the ride home, and I didn’t press her to talk.
I pulled into the parking garage underneath our building and handed my keys to the valet. Clare held my arm tightly as we walked to the elevator.
“You should keep the apartment,” she said, pressing the up arrow. “I’ll find another.”
“Why don’t you wait until you’ve had some time to think things through before making any real estate decisions.”
“No, it’s better I move out.” She looked at me, her expression serious yet peaceful. “I can’t afford the mortgage payment.”
“Do you even know how much it is?”
“No, but I’m guessing it isn’t free and, seeing as how I’m penniless now, that means I can’t afford it.” Because of Bart’s fact-proof delusion that his brilliant daughter couldn’t possibly understand math or properly consult with an accountant, Clare’s trust fund would remain under his control until his death. A day that, until listening to his outburst thirty minutes ago and seeing the effect it had on his daughter, I hadn’t actually been looking forward to. Who knew what he’d do with the funds now that he’d disowned Clare, all under the pretense of her best interests.
“Whether we’re married or not,” I said, “you’ll never have to worry about money. Understand?”
She dropped my arm and looked at me, her eyes filling with more tears. “Hayden, stop it! Stop being so goddamn nice. I ruined the last few years of your life because I was too weak to be honest. I don’t deserve your kindness, or your help, or your generosity. I don’t deserve any of it.”
“You’d rather I was more like your father, then?” My voice was stronger than I wanted it to be.
“You’ll never, ever come close to being the man my father is. Thank God. You’re too good, too accepting
, too noble. But you need to stop using me as another wall.”
“What does that mean?”
“Me. Our marriage. We were both hiding behind it, but at least I had Shannon. Excuse me for being blunt, but holy fuck, Hayden, what do you have? What do you want? Do you even know?” The volume of her voice increased with every word. I almost called her on it, told her that I wasn’t the one she should be yelling at because I’d done nothing wrong. But I had. And everything she was saying was absolutely right. Absolutely irrefutable. Our marriage was just one more wall I’d built around myself. So I didn’t have to actually feel anything, and I’d never have anything real to lose.
“I know you were staying with me for a lot of good reasons,” she said. “And I love that about you. I really do. But now I understand what you meant by the wrong reasons. For all the risks you take at work, all the effort you put into it, you’ve never put anything even remotely like that into your private life. Why not?”
“I…” Didn’t know.
“I get that you’re afraid of getting hurt. And sometimes it does hurt. But it also feels amazing. It’s worth any amount of pain to have those moments that take your breath away. That make you lose yourself and all your baggage and just be…happy.”
“I am…” Even I couldn’t stomach that lie. I wasn’t happy. I’d never been happy.
The elevator door opened, and an elderly woman got on. She pressed the button for the lobby.
“We’re going up, ma’am,” I said. “You might want to wait for the next elevator.”
“I hate waiting.” She smiled at me. “This way, I’m moving, even if it’s in the wrong direction.”
When we reached our floor, I held the door and then followed Clare into the apartment. I looked around the place, unsure what to do with it. It was too much for me, but if Clare didn’t want it… “We could sell it.”
“Where would you live?” she asked.
“Somewhere else. Where would you live?”
She smiled bitterly and tossed her bag onto a chair. “Somewhere else. I don’t know how to not have money, but I hear some people do it. God, I never realized how ungrateful I am.”
“I’ll give you alimony.” I had plenty of money, even without a job. When my father died, I’d inherited more than I could ever spend. Like my brother, I’d given most of it away, but I’d also invested some of it. Added to the holdings I’d accumulated over the years from other sources, and it would be a very long time before my grandchildren ran out. If I ever had grandchildren.
Of course, I didn’t know what I’d do with myself if I didn’t work. What could possibly eat up ninety-plus hours of my week? Then I thought of the one thing that could fill up that time and more, and keep me happy throughout. If only she felt the same.
30
Hayden
“What time is it?” Sira’s voice was groggy.
I looked at my watch. “It’s 1:00 am. I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.” I should’ve called earlier, before Clare had broken out the drinks for our ‘coming out, getting divorced, being disowned, and getting fired’ celebration. But then, earlier, I hadn’t had a half a bottle of champagne and a few glasses of bourbon in me, and would probably have thought it was a bad idea to call Sira at all.
“Is everything okay?”
Yes. No. Kind of. “It will be, eventually.” That was a good bet. Pat yourself on the back for that one.
“Hang on.”
I heard ruffling, probably of her bedding. I didn’t want to think about it too much—her in bed, what she was wearing, how she looked when she first woke up. “Go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”
“Shut up. I’m awake and won’t be able to go to sleep until I know why the hell you called me this late. And it better not be that portfolio thing because I haven’t finished it yet, and I will let you know when I do.”
“I was fired.”
“Seriously?” All remnants of sleep left her voice. “Oh, no! What happened?”
“I can’t tell you everything because it’s not my place to share certain information with you. I would if I could because I don’t want to keep things from you, but I can’t.” Great, I had just enough alcohol in me to not make sense. “What I can tell you is that Clare’s father is a complete and total asshole. He found out that I’d kept something from him, so he fired me over dessert at their house. Not literally over dessert, mind you.”
She didn’t answer right away, making me wonder if I’d over-explained myself into total confusion or an insult. But Clare wasn’t ready to come out. When, or if, she ever was, I’d never keep another secret again.
“Wow,” she said. “I can’t believe you just called your boss an asshole.”
“I think it all the time. I’ve just never said it before.”
“So what does that mean for you?”
“That I’m beginning to trust someone with things I’ve never shared before.”
“Actually, I meant about your career,” she said shyly. “But thanks, though. That means a lot.”
“And is something I probably shouldn’t have said.” I felt the heat the booze brought to my face get hotter from embarrassment.
“I’m okay with it.”
Good. That meant I could try saying what I needed to. “The reason I called you is because, unfortunately and fortunately, I don’t need an assistant anymore. Obviously, I intend to find other employment, but until then…you no longer work for me.”
“Huh. Which means…?”
“Which means that due to forces beyond either of our control, anything that happens between the two of us from this point on will have no bearing on your job.”
“Huh.”
“You already said that.” I waited impatiently, not knowing what I expected her response to be, but hoping it would be more than ‘huh.’
“So your boss fired you, and you’re letting me go.”
Never. I’d never let her go, not until I’d done everything in my power to convince her to at least try.
“But Clare still has her position, right?” she asked.
“Her position?”
“As your wife?”
Oh shit. “Damn, I meant to start with that. The reason Clare and I were at her father’s house was to officially announce our separation. We’re talking to a lawyer tomorrow. The paperwork might take a little while, but it will be simple and amicable. Although, we may have a rough Ro-Sham-Bo competition for the China.”
“Huh.”
I swallowed. Yeah, I’d really expected more than a ‘huh’ for that part. “In light of all this, I’d like to know if any of your guidelines are still standing, and if so, how I can rip them down.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Yes. But that’s not—”
“How drunk are you?”
I sighed and closed my eyes. This wasn’t going like I’d imagined it would. “Not enough to say things I don’t mean.”
“How much did you drink?”
“Four glasses of champagne and two small glasses of bourbon. But I’m a big man. Four champagne flutes filled mostly with bubbles and two short glasses filled mostly with ice consumed over a few hours isn’t enough to make me say anything I don’t mean.”
“Maybe, but after being fired, making an announcement about the end of your marriage, and a few glasses of booze, you’re probably not in a good state of mind to judge that.”
I shook my head. It wasn’t the alcohol that made me feel this way or know it was true. “Do you actually think these feelings are new? A result of some bad news and liquor?” I was tired of being in control of everything I said or did. Tired of holding it together for reasons I didn’t understand. Clare had admitted a truth after a lifetime of holding it inside, knowing there was a big chance she’d lose. If there were a chance I’d win—a life I’d never expected with a woman I’d never expected—I had to go for it.
“I’ve never been happier,” I said. “Because all I can see is a better future. Provided you
’re in it.”
“I’d like to wait and see if you feel the same when you’ve sobered up.”
“Nothing will be different.”
“You’ve been drinking, Hayden. So hang up right now and call a cab. You can sober up on the way here.”
“I—” Stopped. Did she just say—? “What did you just say?”
“I agree with you—you’re a big man. Can you sober up in the twenty-minute cab ride to my house?”
I took a breath, a completely sober one. “Definitely.”
“If you can’t, then you can sleep it off on the couch. ’Cause I don’t want a drunk in my bed.”
“I’m going to hang up on you right now.” I jumped out of my chair. “I have to call a cab…and find my shoes.”
“You won’t need your shoes, Hayden.” She laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”
I ended the call before she could change her mind, then grabbed my wallet and headed for the door.
Clare stopped me, looking concerned. “Where are you going?”
My shoulders slumped when I saw my wife—ex-wife, for all intents and purposes. I couldn’t leave her tonight, not after everything she’d gone through.
“Nowhere.” I reached into my pocket for my phone.
“Really? Because it seemed like you were in a hurry to get somewhere.”
“It’s not important.” Lie. Nothing had ever been more important to me, which was why I knew Sira would understand why I couldn’t be there right now. “I was supposed to meet someone.”
“Did you get a new job already?” she asked, smiling. When I didn’t answer right away, she took a long look at me, ending at my feet. “No one forgets to put on shoes when they’re going to an interview, Hayden. At least not you. Who were you going to meet?”
“She’s someone I work—worked—with. But I’ll reschedule.”
“Oh, no. You’re worried about me, aren’t you?” She rolled her eyes. “Well, stop it. You’ve rescheduled your love life for three years, Hay. I’ll be fine. You should go.”
“Are you sure?” I pressed my lips together so they wouldn’t give away how desperately I wanted to go.