Wasn’t she?
In the driveway of Marti’s house, Spencer dropped her head forwardand rested it on the steering wheel. She felt like she was going crazy, likeshe was barely holding on to herself, and if one more thing hit her, she wasgoing to spin off into oblivion. Alone. Forever.
Marti was home. Her car was in the driveway, the lights were on inthe house, and Spencer realized that her entire very-planned-out schedule fortalking to her fiancée had just been stepped up. She’d been waiting for theweekend to have this discussion, but in that moment, Spencer was ready.
“Okay,” she said, to the empty interior of her car. “We’re goingto do this now.” With a nod of determination, she pulled on the door handle andgot out of her car. She shouldered her gym bag and her purse, looked up at thehouse, took in a deep, fortifying breath, and headed inside.
Marti was on the couch, her feet on the coffee table and crossedat the ankles. Spencer was surprised she wasn’t on her laptop, since she wasalmost always on her laptop. The television showed somebody ripping a wall outof a bathroom, and Marti seemed engrossed.
“Hey,” Spencer said, setting her duffel on the floor and her purseon the kitchen counter.
“Hey,” Marti said, not turning around. She held a glass of wine inone hand and Spencer immediately decided she was going to need that. She helpedherself to a glass and the open bottle on the counter.
Wine in hand, she went around the couch and sat on it, next toMarti. “Can we talk?” she asked after a large gulp of wine and a moment ofsteeling herself.
Marti turned to look at her and there was something different inher eyes. Something new. Something that gave Spencer pause. They were a littlebloodshot and nearly devoid of mascara. “I think we need to,” she said, hervoice quiet, her face shuttered.
Spencer furrowed her brow. “Okay.” She’d had a whole speech, awhole rehearsed monologue that she’d been rolling around. And suddenly, it wasgone from her head. Just…gone. The expression on Marti’s face—tired,determined, maybe a tiny bit sad—was not what Spencer had been expecting, andshe felt like her world tilted just enough to make her plans slide off theedge.
Marti took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, then sipped herwine. She looked very much like she was gearing up, very much like she didbefore she practiced her opening argument for a trial. Silent. Pensive.Preparing.
Spencer waited with a growing sense of dread.
“I love you, Spencer,” Marti said, still not looking at her. “Ilove you very much.”
“I love you, too,” Spencer said, automatically.
Marti did turn to her then, and Spencer was surprised to see herbrown eyes filled with tears. “No. You don’t.” Spencer opened her mouth toprotest, but Marti held up a hand, stopping any sound. “It’s okay. Spence. It’sokay. I get it.”
Spencer blinked at her.
“We’re not working. We haven’t been for a long time. I know it andI’m sure you know it.” Marti swallowed and her eyes cleared. Spencer knew shewas now in the meat of her speech and all emotion had been removed. It was howshe operated. “I was hoping we wouldn’t go down this path, but”—she shrugged—“Ishouldn’t be surprised, really. There have been many signs along the way,especially recently. You can’t seem to bring yourself to move a single box herefrom your place. You have yet to put your house on the market. Our intimacyis…sorely lacking, and has been for a while now.”
Spencer’s nostrils flared, but before she could protest that theirlack of intimacy certainly wasn’t all on her, Marti went on.
“We’re not working.” Her voice went soft, and sheuncharacteristically let a sliver of emotion seep in. “I don’t think…I don’tthink you know for sure what you want. And I think you need to figure it out.”With a clearing of her throat, Marti took another sip of her wine.
Spencer sat. She blinked some more. She felt weird. This was sonot how she saw this conversation going. She’d been prepared to apologize toMarti, to let her know that she’d been absent, but she was back. That she wasready to commit fully to their partnership. Marti had turned it all on itshead.
So many emotions washed through Spencer. She chewed on the insideof her cheek as she sat there, vision blurred from unshed tears, and tried toname them. Sadness. Shame. Guilt. Embarrassment. Relief.
Wait.
Relief?
I don’tthink you know for sure what you want. And I think you need to figure it out.
Those were probably the truest, wisest words anybody had ever saidto her.
“Marti.” Spencer swallowed the lump in her throat.
Marti turned to her, her expression open for the moment.
“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“I just wanted you to be happy,” Marti said quietly, and if shehad any hopes of them working things out, she didn’t show them. At all. “I’mnot perfect. I know that. But I really do care about you.”
We’ve gonefrom “love” to “care about” in a matter of five minutes, Spencerthought. Which meant Marti was disengaging. Already.
