Page 47 of Fire

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Ivy

While Nell occupies herself in her room and Micah visits his friend, I step onto the deck to call Julian. The sun is bright and the sound of the ocean should be soothing, but my heart gallops in my chest like a bull trying to murder a cowboy. I lower myself onto one of the chairs, let out a long breath, and initiate the call.

“Ivy.” Julian barks my name and I flinch, checking the time. Oh, no…

I got caught up talking to Micah and missed the golden hour.

Okay, then. Brace yourself. This is gonna get bumpy.

“Hi, Julian. Do you have a minute? I kind of need to talk to you.”

“It’s been time for you to ‘kind of need to talk to me’ for a while now. When are you coming home?” I hear the click, click, click of him flicking through hangers and picture him standing in the closet, hair damp, towel around his waist, displeased with every shirt he sees.

Because the only way he feels secure is when he’s better than everything else. Nothing will ever be good enough for him. Not me. Not Nell. Not the clothes in his closet.

“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” I inhale through my nose, closing my eyes, the words stuck on my tongue. Once I speak them, they’re true. There’s no turning back.

Is this really what I want?

Years’ worth of feelings and memories wash through my mind. Julian isn’t always cruel. He isn’t always demanding. Sometimes he can be so sweet, so supportive, so funny and charming. But those times are rare and getting rarer. The more time we spend together, the more he treats me like I’m a pet who must behave to his exact specifications. We aren’t partners. He’s a dictator. And I’m tired of feeling small.

“Ivy?” Click, click, click go the hangers. Not good enough. Not good enough. Not good enough.

“Yeah. Sorry. I got distracted.”

“Do you need to call me once you’ve gotten your thoughts together?” Click, click, click.

“No. They’re together. And they might not come out in an order you like, but I’m going to ask you to deal with that.”

“Deal with that?” Click, click, click. “Fine. Go ahead. Hit me with the chaos.”

“I’m not coming back to Seattle.”

Silence.

“I took my engagement ring off a few days ago and have been—”

“You did what?”

“And have been waiting until I had my things in order to—”

“Your things in order? What the fuck, Ivy?”

“I’ve been waiting until I had my things in order to tell you that I don’t think we should get married.”

There.

It’s out in the open now.

I’ve said it.

He’s heard it. All that’s left is for him to accept it.

“What things do you think you have in order?” He sounds so condescending. Like he’s talking to a child, not his future wife. “Tell me how you think this is a good idea.”

“I’ve found a place to live. Nell is making friends at school. We’re both happier here.”

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