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Trophy Wife by Noelle Adams (11)

Chapter 11

The next day Allison was so upset that she called in sick to work and drove to Charlotte to spend some time with Vicki.

She hated to be weak like that, but she couldn’t stand the thought of serving tables at Dora’s, seeing Rob at breakfast, catching all the curious looks aimed at her, pretending like everything was all right.

She didn’t regret what she’d done, but it still felt terrible. She wished she could just skip over the next few weeks and be done with the grieving period for her almost relationship.

Instead, she drove more than an hour to the city and went to Vicki’s apartment. Russ was at work, and Vicki didn’t have any commitments today, so they went shopping and then to lunch.

Allison was surprised but relieved that she didn’t get an immediate interrogation from her friend, who must have been able to tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t until the server had brought their salads at lunch that Vicki finally broached the topic.

“So obviously you’ve made a mess of things with Rob,” she said. “Tell me about it.”

That was all it took for Allison to pour out everything that had happened, everything she was afraid of, everything that was tearing her apart as she looked to the future. Vicki didn’t interrupt, and at the end of Allison’s story she was frowning down at the table, as if she were thinking hard.

“You understand, don’t you?” Allison asked, wiping a few tears away. She hadn’t fallen apart, but she couldn’t talk about all of this without getting emotional.

“Yes, I understand.” Vicki finally looked up, her beautifully made-up face still frowning thoughtfully. “But I wonder if you had some other options.”

This wasn’t what Allison had expected, and her spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m just thinking out loud. I can see that you and Rob had some issues that were getting to be problems, but I wonder if it was the kind of thing that could have been worked out together.”

Allison felt strange, brutally exposed. And guilty because Rob himself had said something similar. She just shook her head.

“All couples have issues that cause problems. If both of them have been married before—like you and Rob—then there are probably even more issues. But usually they can be worked out if both people really want to. You know that.”

“Yes. Yes, I know that. But this was different. It wasn’t about what I did or Rob did. It’s about who we are—our identities. Those kinds of things don’t change, even if you want them to.”

“You don’t think Rob could have learned to open up more to you about the mistakes he’s made and start letting you help him more.”

“Y-yeah. Maybe he could. But that’s not the main issue.”

“Then what is?”

“I can’t let myself be another trophy wife.”

“It sounds to me like Rob is a really different man than Arthur.”

“Of course he is. He’s a hundred times better than Arthur.”

“But he’ll still make you a trophy wife?”

“He won’t. I will. I’m not sure I can be anything else.”

Vicki made an impatient sound. “That’s ridiculous. You’ve already become something else, and you were more than that even when you were married to Arthur. Why the hell do you think I want to be friends with you?”

Allison smiled faintly at her friend’s indignant tone. “Thanks for that. I’m not saying I’m shallow or superficial. I’m just saying that my first inclination is to always only depend on a strong man.”

Vicki hesitated for a few moments before she said softly, “I depend on Russ. Love is about dependence.”

“I know that. But Russ depends on you too. Doesn’t he?” For some reason, asking the question almost made her cry.

Vicki’s face tightened too as she nodded.

“Arthur never depended on me. It was always a completely one-sided relationship. I thought at first that Rob might…” She lifted her napkin to dab at her eyes. “But he won’t let himself. I can see the beginnings of another one-sided relationship. And I can’t just go along with it.”

When Vicki didn’t say anything—like the words had sunk in and rung true—Allison felt even worse. She made an attempt to sound more normal, however, as she added, “It’s probably just as well. I’m not really a small-town person, after all.”

“I thought you were starting to fit in better. So you really don’t like living in Fielding? I mean, you still want to get out of that town as soon as you possibly can?”

Allison stared at Vicki, surprised because she’d never actually asked herself that question. “Uh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s not as bad as I used to think. But I don’t want to be a waitress at Dora’s for the rest of my life, and there’s nothing else for me there. All my dreams are in Charlotte.”

“Your jewelry shop.” Vicki had been meeting her eyes, but now she looked down at her half-empty plate.

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m going to say something, but don’t get mad.”

Allison blinked. “I’m not going to get mad.”

Vicki looked back up. “Most people don’t have all their dreams come true. They don’t usually get the man of their dreams and the job of their dreams and the lifestyle of their dreams and the living situation of their dreams. Most people don’t get all of those things. Most people cobble together the things they’re able to get that most make them happy—and they learn to be happy with that.”

“I know that. I’m really not stupid, you know. I’m not expecting to have everything. I just want to be able to…to make it on my own and really be me.”

“Three months ago you weren’t even sure who you were. Do you know who you are now?”

And that was another question that surprised her, since she hadn’t been asking it of herself. But after thinking for a moment, she knew the answer. “I think so. I used to think it had to be the jewelry shop, since that was the only concrete thing I could imagine that would make me happy. But I don’t even need that anymore.”

“So what do you need, then?”

“I need to be able to feel like I’m more than just pretty and vulnerable and dependent. I need an equal relationship with a man who trusts me and depends on me as much as I depend on him. I wanted—I really wanted that to be Rob, but I’m not going to settle for less. And I want…I want to be able to make beautiful things and have other people appreciate them. If it’s not the jewelry shop, then I want to be able to do it in a different way.”

To her surprise, Vicki smiled at her. “Well, all of that sounds pretty doable, you know. I think you’re pretty much there.”

“Except the relationship.”

Vicki sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Yeah. Except the relationship. I keep thinking maybe there’s still hope for that, though.”

Allison felt another wave of emotion that burned in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, a little choked up. “But I don’t think there is.”

For just a moment Vicki looked a little emotional herself. Then she smiled rather poignantly. “And you’re sure that Rob doesn’t love and trust you for who you really are? I mean the real you who wants to stand on her own and not always be dependent.”

The words hurt so much that Allison had to look away and take a ragged breath. “I’m sure. He won’t even…try to…”

“Try to what?”

“Be real with me, lean on me. Be something more than…” She shook her head, determined not to blame Rob because she knew for certain that it wasn’t his fault. “He doesn’t. I’m sure.”

“Okay. Then that’s the way it is. He’s not the only good thing in the world, so you’re going to get through this. For now, we’ll get dessert, and then I’m going to buy you a pair of shoes.”

Rob tried to do his normal routine on Monday, but it was absolute torture. Everywhere he went he thought about Allison. Everyone he saw asked him about her.

On Tuesday morning he couldn’t do it to himself again, so he just stayed home. He tried to work on an old desk he was restoring in his workshop, but he couldn’t focus on it at all. Then he tried to watch TV, but it just got on his nerves. He couldn’t sleep. He wasn’t hungry. He couldn’t just sit in a chair all day and stare across the street at Allison’s house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

So what he ended up doing was cleaning his house.

He really cleaned it, in a way he hadn’t done in years—maybe ever. He ended up with dozens of bags of garbage and endless boxes of stuff to give away to Goodwill. He cleaned every surface, and he scrubbed every floor, and he kept it up for two days.

On Wednesday afternoon he was almost through. He was working on the kitchen, which he’d saved for last. He’d emptied the refrigerator and was cleaning out all the shelves and inside walls when there was a knock on his door.

He heart leaped in excitement, immediately hoping it was Allison. Maybe she’d changed her mind. Maybe she’d decided he wasn’t as bad as she’d been thinking.

It wasn’t Allison. It was his mother.

“Mom,” he said in surprise, opening the storm door to let her in. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see you. What did you think?”

He looked over her shoulder at the driveway. “Where’s Dad?”

“He couldn’t get away. Isn’t this a miserable day? It’s so hot and humid it feels like the air should be dripping, but it just won’t rain.”

It was a miserable day—one that promised rain but never actually followed through. But he ignored her comment because the idea of her coming alone made his eyes go wide. “You drove all this way by yourself?”

For most people driving a half hour would hardly mean anything, but his mother hadn’t driven that far in years. The farthest she went anymore was the grocery store two miles from her house.

“Well, I had four different people call me, asking what was wrong with you because you weren’t going to work and weren’t answering your phone. Your friend Keith called me and kept saying it was all his fault, so he couldn’t come by to see you, but that I needed to do something as soon as I could. So I figured it was a crisis and I could brave the long drive.”

Rob felt a wave of deep affection and embarrassment both. “Nothing is wrong.”

“I have eyes in my head, young man, and I know you’re telling me a lie.”

He sighed, almost a groan. He hadn’t shaved or slept or showered, so he knew he must be looking pretty rough. Even someone less astute than his mother would have been able to tell he wasn’t in good shape. He’d never thought he was one of those men who would fall apart like this because of a broken heart. “Allison dumped me.”

His mother’s eyes softened, and she reached out to pat his shoulder. “I assumed that was what happened. Why don’t you make me a cup of tea while I sit down and recover from that drive?”

A couple of days ago he would have sworn that he didn’t have any tea in the house. But he’d found a half-smashed box in the back of a cabinet as he’d been sorting through them. He dug it out again and put water in his coffeepot to get hot, since he didn’t own a kettle.

His mom settled at the kitchen table and watched him as he brought the mug and sugar over to her. He sat down next to her, itching to get back to cleaning the refrigerator, since that was the only thing distracting him from how it felt without Allison in his life.

“I see you’ve finally cleaned this house, so tell me what kind of mess you made of your love life,” she said, more gently than her usual tone.

He cleared his throat.

“You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“That’s not always the way it works, you know.”

“Maybe so. But it’s a good first step anyway. Why did she end it?”

Rob leaned his head onto his hand and sighed hoarsely. “I don’t even know. It seemed to be all kinds of things. She thinks I don’t want an equal relationship with her.” He thought through the words Allison had used. “She thinks I’m going to turn her into another trophy wife.”

“And are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Of course I did! She didn’t believe me.”

“You don’t want her just because she’s so pretty and stylish and sophisticated?”

He jerked his head up, so surprised was he by the question. “You know that’s not all it is.”

“And you don’t want her just to prove that a guy like you can get a girl like her?”

This came too close to his thoughts early on in their relationship, so he was washed with a hot wave of guilt. “Maybe at first. But not after a while.” He closed his eyes, picturing her torn face as she told him those terrible things on Sunday night. “She thinks she’s just going to be a trophy to me, but she’s wrong.”

“What does she mean by a trophy?”

“Like with her ex-husband. Someone who wants to just have her, no matter what she needs. Someone who tries to make her into something she doesn’t want to be. Someone who will make her dependent. But that’s not what I want to do. I know there’s so much more to her than how pretty she is. I know there’s so much in her to love.”

“What exactly?”

He was so tired and torn up that he didn’t hesitate to talk so personally, the way he normally would have. “Damn, I don’t know. She’s brave and independent and she works so hard. She could have easily gone along, taking the easy route, but she just won’t do it. She’s really generous and there’s a sweetness to her that nothing can touch. I know it seems like she’s had a pretty easy life, but she really hasn’t—and she isn’t bitter about it at all. She’s always honest and up front. She’s not afraid to admit her mistakes and say she’s sorry for them. She’s…” He slumped in his seat, the long ramble making him feel even worse, since it just proved how much he’d lost.

“So if you feel that way about her—and I can see that you really do—why doesn’t she know it?”

“I don’t know. I tried to tell her. She won’t listen to me.”

His mother didn’t say anything. The silence lasted so long that Rob finally looked up to see what she was doing.

She was just looking at him in that way she’d had since he was a child. Just patiently waiting until he admitted what he should have admitted before.

And he knew the answer then, just as he had when he was ten years old and accidentally broken a window with his baseball.

“You think it’s my fault,” he muttered at last.

His mother shook her head. “I’m sure it’s both of you. But you can’t change her decisions or her actions. You can only change yours. And it sounds to me like that sweet, brave heart across the street is always going to think she’s just a trophy to you until you prove to her that she’s not. Until you prove to her that you trust her and need her and are willing to risk pain and humiliation if it means you can make her happy. You know what to do.”

Rob swallowed hard, painfully. “She won’t believe me. She’ll think it’s just a gesture.”

“She’ll only think that if it really is just a gesture. You have to do it for real.”

He knew her words were right in a certain way, and he genuinely appreciated her attempt to help. But he couldn’t at the moment imagine how he could ever do what she was implying. It just didn’t feel part of who he was.

He might want to, but the habits of a lifetime couldn’t be changed overnight.

And sometimes they couldn’t be changed at all.

Allison got home from work at about four o’clock and was worried because Rob’s truck was still in his driveway. As far as she could tell, it hadn’t moved in two days.

She was getting anxious. Normally he would have gone to breakfast, gone to work, gone to hang out and help friends with their projects in the evenings. But his truck never moved.

She really hoped he was all right.

She was sorely tempted to walk over and check in with him, just to find out why he wasn’t leaving his house and whether he was really sick or something. But that didn’t seem right. She was the one who had ended things between them, and it was too early to try to be just friends.

So she went to work on a complicated choker necklace, trying desperately not to think or worry about him.

Since Monday she’d been replaying her conversation with Vicki in her mind and wondering if her friend was right. Maybe she’d blown the whole thing out of proportion because she was still so insecure about relationships since Arthur. Maybe she and Rob could have worked things out. Maybe she’d actually made the biggest mistake of her life by giving up on someone so incredible.

Her thoughts were so tumultuous she didn’t feel like eating any dinner. She was still working on the intricate piece of jewelry when she heard a sound from outside that surprised her enough to make her look up.

She glanced out one of the dining room windows. It was raining, she realized. It had felt like rain all day, and finally it was coming down. Really hard, from the sound of it.

She stood up to look outside. It was dark out, but her back spotlight was on, so she could see the sheets of rain coming down, occasionally blown sideways by the wind.

Staring outside, she watched it for a long time. She felt a strange satisfaction about it—like the intense, violent weather finally matched what was in her heart.

She was still standing at the window when her phone rang. Probably Vicki. She’d checked in on Allison every evening this week.

But when she glanced at the screen, Allison’s breath caught in her throat. It was Rob. She stared down at her vibrating phone, as if eventually the name would change into one more predictable.

It didn’t, so Allison picked up the call.

“Rob?” she said, unable to stop from sounding as trembly as she felt.

“Hi. Allison.” There was a strange pause between the two words.

Something felt wrong, even in the way he’d said them. “What’s the matter?” she asked, starting to shake for a different reason.

“Are you doing something…right now?”

Now she was even more nervous. He sounded so stilted. Not like himself at all. “No. No, I’m not. Rob, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Can you…can you help me?”

“Of course I’ll help you.” She took a shuddering breath, her head spinning with fear. Something must be seriously wrong. “What do you need?”

“Can you come over?” His voice was so hoarse and rough and thick. Barely recognizable. “I need…I really need your help.”

She didn’t even have to think about it. It didn’t matter what had happened between them. “I’ll be right there. I’m coming over right now.”

It was pouring down rain outside, but she was in such a hurry that she didn’t stop for a jacket or an umbrella or even a bra. She just slid on her flip-flops with her tank top and yoga pants and ran out of her house.

It was raining so hard she couldn’t even see across the street. There was a blur of light over there, so Rob must have turned on his landscape lighting, which included a spotlight near the street. She splashed down her driveway, her clothes already soaked all the way through.

She was halfway across the street, sliding in her wet flip-flops, when she pulled to an abrupt stop.

Rob had come out to meet her, making his way down his driveway just like her. Now he was standing there, just on the edge of the road, visible in the light although blurred by the pounding rain.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes. He must not have shaved in a couple of days. He had what looked like sweatpants on—now soaked all the way through like her clothes.

They stood there in the rain and stared at each other for a few seconds that felt like a lot longer.

And she suddenly saw Rob—the real Rob—who had finally asked for her help. Wet and half naked and barefoot and as miserable as she’d ever seen him. He might be strong and competent and loved by everyone and unshakably solid.

But he wasn’t really that different from her. Right now. Always. Flawed and weak and sometimes scared and unable to get by entirely on his own. Dependent.

Human. Just like her.

She could see it so clearly as he stood in the rain, genuinely needing her to help him. The revelation rocked her.

Her clothes were so wet that she might as well have been naked too, and anything pretty or polished about her appearance was washed away by the cold streams of water rushing down her skin.

She was no longer Arthur’s perfect trophy wife. And she wasn’t the friendly, hardworking waitress at Dora’s. She wasn’t some pretty, stylish newcomer that Rob had managed to win, much to the town’s bemusement. She wasn’t young and gorgeous and vulnerable and completely dependent—waiting to be carried off in a strong man’s arms.

She was just her. Allison. Wet and cold and scared and confused. And wanting desperately to be here to help him when he needed it.

And Rob was seeing her—actually seeing her. Who she really was beneath all of her surfaces. And he was reaching out his hand. “God, Allison,” he said hoarsely, his voice mingling with the sound of the rain. “I really need your help.”

She closed the space between them so she could take his hand in hers. “I’m here. What’s the matter?” She really had no idea what the emergency was, but she knew it must be bad.

“It’s Cali. She’s…Just come see.”

She walked up his driveway with him, clinging to his hand, and she knew she’d been right about something.

And wrong about everything else.

Rob saw who she was. He knew who she was. And he wanted her—needed her—anyway.