We swallowed and banged the glasses down, except Maddy who was still trying to figure out whether to sip or down it. The desire to laugh at her was bubbling through me, but I caught myself just in time.
The restraint?or my lack of it this year?was part of the reason I was quitting. My patience had dwindled away. Not unlike tonight’s little outburst at Charles, the number of times I’d slammed doors up and down the Capitol Building lately were too many to count. I was just tired of the quid pro quo. Tired of the constant bargaining. Tired. Just damn tired.
I refused to think of any of it at the moment. Instead, I intended to celebrate getting out of Dodge before I had to swallow back one more remark. I vowed my next job would be one I could be honest about. I wouldn’t have to sugarcoat every word.
Mac excused himself to go to the restroom, Georgie went to find some food menus, and Maddy’s spot was taken over by Russell who wore his expertly tailored, pinstripe gray suit as if he were born wearing it. It clung to his wide shoulders and fit across the chest he worked hours on to make sure it was as gorgeous as his language skills.
“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving,” Russell said, placing his whiskey down. He’d gotten the taste of it from me, and he’d held onto it long after his taste for me had become a thing of the past. Or my taste for him? A mutual lack of appetite?
“It was time,” I said with a slight, unexpected slur.
He looked down at his glass for a few seconds before glancing back up. In the gray eyes shining behind his black-rimmed glasses, I saw regret. The same regret which entered his eyes every time we talked about anything but bills and lobbying.
“I’m sorry,” he said for at least the thousandth time.
I waved at him. “Don’t. Don’t start this again.”
I didn’t want to think about why he was sorry. I didn’t want to think about any of it ever again, and yet, I couldn’t stop. It drove me mad at times. It drove me mad when I woke in the middle of the night full of panic and sweats. It drove me mad when I stepped in an elevator. And it definitely drove me mad when anyone brought it up. On The Hill, it was brought up all the time. A cautionary tale. A proud #MeToo moment. A word-to-the-wise kind of tale.
“I’d say it in all five languages I know if I thought it would help,” he said, remorse etched across the words.
The waiter dropped off the next pitcher of cosmos, and I downed one before I responded. “I’m tired of you saying it.”
He looked up, surprised.
“It’s in the past, Russell; just leave it there.”
“I would leave it alone if I thought it really was in the past for you. Instead, I’m almost certain it’s one of the reasons you’re leaving.”
Leave it to him and his three bachelors, two masters, and Ph.D. to figure it out. As if it were rocket science and not a normal human reaction.
“I’ve talked about getting out for a long time,” I said, which was the truth.
“You talked about it like everyone talks about retirement. Some far away thing you might be working toward, but you weren’t quite ready to make happen.”
Below the alcohol that had loosened every part of me, my body started to tighten back up. Seeing Russell often did it to me. Letting him speak while avoiding the huge sinkhole behind us always did it to me.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, the warning obvious.
“Isn’t that the problem?”
That pissed me off. My restraint I’d once been known for was failing me for the second time that evening. I shoved my empty glass in his direction. “You donotget to say that. Ever. Do you understand me?”
Surprise slithered across his face. Russell never saw me like this. Unhinged. Unbalanced. Ruffled. No one did. It wasn’t me.
“Just say it,” he demanded. “It’s my fault.”
“Stop!”
“No. Not until I’ve said the things you haven’t let me say for a year.”
“Closure. You’re looking for closure? Now?” I laughed, and it wasn’t a nice laugh. It was harsh. Cold. Bitter.
He tugged his ear. A nervous tell I’d picked up on years ago. A tell which allowed me to beat him every time we played poker together at my family’s gatherings.
“Dani, I made a choice that night. I chose to go see my ex instead of showing up at the hotel. I left you alone. If I hadn’t?”
I was out of the chair and heading in the direction of the bathrooms before I had to hear another word. The real reason my appetite had disappeared was clear. He was back with his ex. Mac met me coming the other way, and his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Russell at the table I’d just vacated.
