Sophie

I had to call him. Just once. I couldn’t do it with Jim and Patty in the room, so I went to my bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it, sinking down onto the floor. Now that I was alone, the tears started falling freely down my face. I was so embarrassed, so humiliated, I couldn’t breathe.

“Dex,” I sobbed when he answered.

“Shit,” he said. “Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t believe it,” I managed through my tears. “I can’t believe this happened.”

I’d gone out with Dana and the girls last night, feeling on top of the world. We’d had fun. I’d gotten loopy drunk and danced and laughed until we all poured ourselves into cabs. This morning Dana had woken me up with the grim news of what she’d just seen on the net, and my life had fallen apart so fast I’d barely been able to watch it happen.

“Sophie, listen to me,” he said. Even through my panic, it was so good to hear his voice that I cried harder. I missed him so much. “Just listen, okay? This is nothing. It’s a cell phone picture of the two of us walking. There’s nothing for us to be embarrassed about. Nothing at all.”

“You don’t understand,” I said.

“I do understand,” he insisted. “Better than you do. These sites, they post five, sometimes ten stories a day. They’ll report anything just to keep the content going. Stuff sinks so fast that no one ever remembers it.”

“No, what I mean is, you don’t understand,” I said again, feeling irrational anger rising in my throat. “I got fired.”

“What?”

“They called me when they heard,” I said bitterly. Wells and Anderson had had some lackey from HR phone me, since none of the partners wanted to face me, even over the phone. “They told me that they couldn’t have someone like me working for their firm. Someone who brought a tabloid reputation.” The fact that I hadn’t brought Dex in as a client had probably sealed my fate. I don’t have to do it, I’d told him, so sure of myself. The hell you don’t, Dex had replied, and he’d been right.

“Those fuckers,” Dex said. He was really angry. “You should sue their asses, Sophie. Wrongful dismissal. They can’t do that. They don’t have cause.”

“Yes, they do,” I argued. “It’s shitty of them, but they do. I’m on the Internet as your secret lover. I’ve only been there a few months. They don’t owe me anything.”

“Do you want me to talk to them?” he asked.

“No!” I shouted. Why did he always have to fix everything?

“Fine,” he said. “But talk to them when this blows over, Sophie. I’ll bet they’ll give you your job back.”

I put my head in my hands. Everyone would see this. Friends from college. My old profs. Anyone else I applied to for a job. I felt like my stomach had sunk through the floor.

I didn’t tell him about the firm’s calls to Sebastian Santos. I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to work there anymore.

“You’re still crying,” he said, worried. Even through my anger, his voice made my pulse throb. I wanted him so badly I could almost taste him. Part of me wanted to do anything, absolutely anything, just so he would touch me again. I’d say anything, promise anything, give up anything. That was the problem.

Where was he? In a hotel room? In an airport somewhere? That was Dex’s life.

And now he would be playing again, and it would always be his life.

“I can’t do this,” I said.

“Sure you can,” he said. “We can. You got me reinstated, you know that? You can do anything.”

“Not this.” I stared through my hands at the floor. “Not anymore.”

“Listen,” he said. “I’ve been thinking. It’s better if we just get married.”

I blinked and raised my head. “You did not just say that.”

“I’m right,” he persisted. “You know it. No more hiding, no more sneaking around. We’ll just get married. Fuck it.”

I couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth. He had the gall to propose to me—over the phone? And he’d used the words Fuck it? “You are out of your mind.”

“We should do it,” he said again. “You have to admit it makes sense.”

“People don’t get married just because it makes sense!” What was the matter with him? I was shaking with anger, mixed with lust and heartbreak. “You haven’t been listening. I can’t do this. You and me. I can’t do it. I’ve tried, and I don’t know how. Not without losing myself. Getting married is the worst thing I could do right now. The fact that you’re even suggesting it means you’re so full of yourself you don’t know me at all.”

“Sophie,” he said.

“Dex. I am not marrying you.”

There was a beat of silence. I felt our entire relationship drain down into it, vanish into the darkness. I felt it sap out of me, leaving me nothing but a shell.

Then he said softly, “I’m coming to California.”

“Don’t,” I told him. “I won’t be here. I’m moving out this afternoon.”

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.” I hadn’t had the idea until the words popped out of my mouth, but as soon as I said them I knew they were right. I couldn’t be myself, start my own life, in this house that Dex had bought, living with our parents. “I have savings. I’ll find somewhere. But I’m leaving, Dex. Don’t follow me.”

“What do you want?” he said. His voice was low, serious, as if I’d just kicked him. “Be honest with yourself, Sophie. What do you want?”

You, you, you. Every minute of every day, you. “I want a life,” I said. “But it has to be my life. Not yours. I don’t want to get married because of a random impulse of yours.”

“Is that what you fucking think?” The anger in his voice was low, dangerous, a tone I’d never heard from him before. I’d hurt him. But I couldn’t think about that right now.

“Dex,” I said, the words slicing my throat. “We’re done.”

“Sophie. I’m asking you. Don’t do this.”

“I have to,” I said. “It’s the only way.” I swallowed, making the word come out. “Goodbye.”

When I hung up, I was surprisingly dry-eyed. I’d finished crying. I felt hollowed out and exhausted, but I was okay. I was still me.

It was time.

I got up, pulled my suitcase from the closet, and started packing.