A knock at the door breaks my concentration. My head is starting to pound. I don’t care who that is, I don’t want to see anyone. I go to the kitchen to get an aspirin. When I come back, I find Gatsby sitting in my living room.

“I’m going to give you some time to talk,” Maggie Mae says, grabbing her purse.

“No, don’t go,” I say.

“I gotta go to work anyway. It’s going to be fine,” she says and closes the door.

I can’t believe that she has left me alone with him! I gather the strength to kick him out.

“I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you here,” I say, turning to face him.

“I’m just here to see whether or not you’re okay. I was really worried,” he whispers. His vulnerability is disarming, but I remain strong. He did this to me. I hate him. And I want him out.

“Well, now that you’ve seen that I’m okay, please leave, Mr. Wild.”

I add Mr. Wild to create distance, but he takes a step forward and destroys whatever distance that I create.

“Please, Annabelle, don’t be like that.”

“Like what, huh? Like what, Gatsby? You asshole.”

“Annabelle, I want to explain something.”

“I don’t want to hear it. Nothing. I don’t want to listen to a word you have to say. You’re dead to me.”

“No, I can’t be,” he whispers. I look away and wait. But he doesn’t leave. When I turn back to him, I see that his eyes are moist. He wipes a small tear with the back of his hand.

“No, no, no. I don’t care, Gatsby. Just like you didn’t care that day. Just like you fired me for nothing. I didn’t do anything wrong, and you just kicked me out. I was just trying to help.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I know. I was such a dick. I was lost, Annabelle. I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted you to stop talking. And as soon as you left, even before that, I realized what an asshole I’ve been.”

I roll my eyes. Whatever.

“Atticus came over after that. He apologized and begged my forgiveness. My father was there, and he immediately took his side. He forgave him, and they both started pressuring me to hide all that from the shareholders. But I kept hearing your words in my head. I knew that they were going to try to convince me to take the fall if any of this was ever found out. I just knew they would. Atticus would just cry and stomp his feet and get his way. So after father left, I talked to him. I told him what I thought. I told him that I would lend him the money, whatever he owed, but there was no way we were going to go ahead and defraud the shareholders. Most aren’t wealthy at all. Most are middle-class people who invested some of their retirement into this company because they believe in it. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, do that to them.”

I nod. I am happy to hear that something good was coming out of this. I am happy that he has finally started to do the right thing.

“So what happened?” I ask. His eyes light up. He’s taking my question as a good sign that I’m ready to forgive him, but I’m nowhere close to that.

Not yet.

“I asked him to admit what he has done. To get a lawyer and say that he was terribly sorry about the whole thing.”

“There’s no way he did that.” I laugh. I don’t mean it. I’m not a cynic, but being around Gatsby recently has turned me into one.

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “But then he surprised me. He said he would. And he did.”

“What? Really?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“Our father wasn’t into it at all, but Atticus was. He apologized. He made a speech. He got a lawyer, and it looks like he might get off with just probation. Especially because there was no investigation. We have very good lawyers.”

“I can’t believe that he agreed to it.” I shake my head.

“I lent him the money that he owed, and he’s going into treatment for gambling and alcoholism soon. Father isn’t happy about any of this, but then again, he’s not in charge.”

I nod.

“So what I want to say to you, Annabelle, is I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I was a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have done any of that. You were the best thing that happened to me, and I just threw it all away. I want you to come back to work. I want you…”

He let his voice trail off. We both know what he means. But all of this is too much for me. I’m happy for him, but as for the job and the relationship, I can’t quite comprehend any of it right now.

“I think I need to lay down,” I say. I have been standing for some time, and my legs are starting to feel weak.

Gatsby helps me to my bed. He undoes the covers and tucks me in.

“Would you mind if I stay here with you? I can just sit in this chair. I just want to stay,” he says.

I nod. The medication they gave me at the hospital is finally taking effect. I want to keep my eyes open and ask him a million questions about everything that has happened, but I can’t. I don’t have the energy. I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute.

I wake up a few hours later. Gatsby is fast asleep on the most uncomfortable chair in the entire known universe – my desk chair. This isn’t the soft leather recliner on which I sit on at work. No, this chair is made of wood and has only a thin layer of padding on the seat.

“Hey, you’re awake.” He gets up when I sit up in bed.

“Yes, so are you.” I smile.

“Oh, I just drifted off for a second,” he says. By the way his body is contorted, I can see that he was asleep for some time.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sore,” he whimpers.

“That’ll teach you about sleeping at my desk,” I say with a laugh.

“How can you get anything done here? This chair is awful.”

“Eh, maybe. But that chair was only ten dollars at Rite Aid.”

“That’s it. As soon as I get back home, I’m ordering you a proper chair. It should be illegal to sit on something like that.”

We both start to laugh.

“Come, sit here and I’ll rub your back,” I say without a second thought. He jumps into bed next to me, and I rub his lower back. He pulls up his shirt, exposing his strong, powerful, tanned back. I rub it for a few minutes and then stop.

“Better?”

“Not quite.”

“Well, that’s all you’re getting.”

He gets up and frowns at me. “Are you sure?”

I nod. All the things left unsaid between us are building. The atmosphere of the room is getting thick with the tension.

“Gatsby…” I start. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I have to say something.

“Annabelle, I just want to say again. I’m sorry. Terribly sorry. I was an asshole, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who loves you, cares for you, and doesn’t have all this shit around him all the time. And yet, I still want to ask you…”

“Ask me what?”

“Ask you to give me another chance. Even though you deserve so much more. So much better.”

“I do deserve better. You were such a dick. You had no right to fire me. I was just trying to help you.”

“I know that now. I know.” He hangs his head. “Just please, please, give me another chance. I want to be with you. I need you.”

“I don’t want to be with you just because you need me, Gatsby. I can come back to work, but…”

“No buts, please.” He puts his finger to my lips. A surge of electricity rushes through my body. His touch does crazy things to me. I want to push him away, but I don’t.

“What I’m trying to say is that…I love you.”

The words hang in the air in between us. I’m not sure if I heard him right. Gatsby looks me straight in the eyes and repeats himself.

“I love you, Annabelle,” he says. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you. I love you. I just could never say it before.”

These are the last words I expected to hear from him.

“I love you, too,” I whisper. I’ve wanted to say that to him for so long. I just didn’t have the courage or the strength. I wasn’t sure if he would say it back to me.

“You do?” He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me close to him.

Our lips touch, and sparks of electricity course through my body.

“I love you,” he whispers, pulling my head toward his.

“I love you, too,” I whisper and bury my hands in his hair.

“I love you,” we say together and fall back onto the bed.

---

THE END