Page 92 of Not You Again
“No.” I lift my chin to look him in the eyes. “You say you’re here and staying and that it all feels real, but I know you’re ready to take that position in Italy.”
“I’m not leaving you. Come with me.”
Lie. I shake my head. “You know I can’t do that. My business—my life—is here in Atlanta. Don’t you see? Your mom and I don’t need to be taken care of. We take care of ourselves just fine. We want you to be here. With us.”
“Don’t pretend you know what my mom needs from me,” he growls.
“Fine.” I sigh, my shoulders slouching. He’s trying to loom over me when I wish he’d just hold me. When did we stop being on the same team? “I want you to be here with me.”
“I’m right here.” He says it with enough vitriol that something in me curls up to protect itself.
I swallow, fighting back. Jamie and Leslie had the tough conversations and came out okay. I can be brave here too. “I knew that walking away from filming today was a risk. But you and your mom are more important than the show. And you still told me not to come. You’re keeping me at an arm’s length even now.”
He scoffs. “Don’t act like this is somehow altruistic of you.”
“Goddammit, Kit.” I press my hand to my forehead. “I’m trying to show you I love you.”
“You’re not even in this for love!”
I reel back with a wince. Wounded. I suck in a breath of air, but all I can feel is the fear that he’s walking away, threatening to suffocate me.
“You’re not even in this at all,” I fire back. More heads turn our direction. “You’re not married to me, you’re married to your damn job. You’re going to leave, no matter what I do. No matter what I tell you I need.”
“Did you suddenly change your mind about decision day?” he asks, pinning me with his glare.
I hold it, searching for his heart in there, anywhere. I don’t know how else I can explain that I’m stuck. If we still choose to divorce, I can get the money I need. It might already be moot since I walked away from filming today, because I already decided that Kit mattered more to me than the damn money. But even if we choose to stay married, he’s going to leave. I’ve told him I need him here, and he’s not even entertaining that as an option. It’s a full-soul ache that I can’t escape.
“I don’t know.” I wipe a tear off my cheek and take another step back. “Tell your mom I had to go.” I turn on my heel and walk toward the exit before the signs become too blurry for me to find my way again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHTKIT
“How’s your mom doing?” Cassidy asks me as I sit on the uncomfortable couch in our tiny apartment living room. She’s at least kind enough to ask it before my mic is on and the camera is rolling.
“She’ll be okay.” I sip on my coffee. Mom got out of surgery around nine this morning. I stuck around until they moved her back to her room on the floor. The only reason I’m not still at the hospital is because I had to film a talking head about what I’m thinking of as we go into our mandatory separation period before decision day.
Forty-eight hours to clear my head. I don’t know if I should be grateful or full of regret. After my fight with Andie yesterday and a shit night of sleep in a hospital chair, I’m lucky I can sit upright and put my shirt on the right way.
Petra and Dr. Leon join me after their makeup artist is done making them look bright and fresh and awake. Cameras are set up to capture different angles, their cords tangled on the floor at my feet.
The cameras all whir to life, and I’m definitely not ready for this. Petra opens her mouth to speak when the apartment door swings open, crashing against the wall. All heads turn to witness Andie in sweatpants and a T-shirt three sizes too big. She looks like I feel—bags under her eyes, hair askew, like she’s not sure how the hell she got here.
“Kit, listen, I’m sorry I—” She stops abruptly as her eyes bounce around the scene. Who’s here. What we’re doing.
The apartment door squeals closed in the silence. She clears her throat and stands up a little straighter. “Sorry to interrupt. I need to speak with Kit. It’ll just take a minute.”
I look into my coffee cup, a frown pulling on my lips.
“Andie”—Cassidy rests her hands on Andie’s shoulders—“you can’t be here right now.”
“But Kit and I need to—”
Cassidy shakes her head. “Decision day is in forty-eight hours. This is the part of the show where you can’t contact each other until the big day. Kit will stay here and you’ll stay in your loft, yeah?”
She looks at the floor, silent.
“It gives you both time to reflect on your marriage. Alone.”
“I don’t want—” Andie’s voice breaks. A tear falls from the corner of her eye. She hastily wipes it away. “Cassidy, please, I need to talk to him.”